UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


GREECE, 


ANCIENT    AND    MODERN. 

LECTURES 


DELIVERED    BEFORE    THE    LOWELL    INSTITUTE. 


By  C.  C.  FELTON,  LL.D., 


LATE   PRESIDENT   0»   HARVARD   CNIVIB8ITT. 


TWO   VOLUMES  IN   ONE. 


>bun^!nf^J 

1 

tf* 

w 

iffSiiF^S 

BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK: 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY. 

Cf)c  HibenSttte  J3re&f,  Camfirrtfffe. 
1893. 


AA-0 


Enter:  i  According  to  Act  of  ";ongresg,  in  the  year  IBM,  by 
THE    LOWELL    INSTITUTE, 

IB  the  C!erk'«  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


NINTH   EDITION. 


/ 


2  5 


74 


PREFACE. 


The  Leures  now  given  to  the  public  were  delivered 
in  the  yearsl852,  1853,  1859,  and  1854,  the  Course  desig- 
nated as  thA  third  having  been  the  latest  in  the  order  of 
delivery.  It  has  been  thought  best  thus  to  transpose  the 
third  and  fourv,  rather  than  to  insert  the  course  on  Modern 
Greece  betweeitwo  courses  on  Ancient  Greece. 

These  Lecture  though  written  very  rapidly,  —  almost  al- 
ways in  the  inteirals  between  their  delivery,  —  embody  the 
results  of  lifelong  study,  and  of  a  conscientiously  careful 
and  accurate  scholarship.  The  labor  of  revision  and  editor- 
ship has  devolved  toon  a  friend,  who  has  performed  it  — 
however  inadequate^ — with  loving  diligence,  and  with  the 
earnest  desire  to  rader  these  volumes  a  not  unworthy 
memorial  of  their  evfr-lamented  author.  References  have 
been,  so  far  as  was  possible,  verified,  authorities  consulted, 
and  translations  compared  with  their  originals;  and  the  ut- 
most attention  has  been\  paid  to  the  passage  of  the  sheets 
through  the  press.  It  is  believed  that  the  work  fills  in  our 
literature  a  place  not  beftre  occupied,  and  that  it  will  ren- 
der essential  service  to  that  cause  of  liberal  culture  to  which 
the  author's  whole  life  was  consecrated. 


CONTENTS 

OF    THE    FIRST    VOLUME 


FIRST    COURSE. 
THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY 

i-IOTCBK  JPa«i 

I.    The  Origin  of  Language    .......  3 

II.    Classification  of  Languages 18 

III.  The  Indo-European  Languages. — The  Origin  of  Writing  32 

IV.  Alphabetic  Writing.  —  Primeval  Literature  of  the  East  50 
V.    The  Earliest  Greek  Poetry.  —  The  Homeric  Poem9  71 

VI.    Homer  and  the  Iliad       .......  89 

VII.    The  Odyssey.  —  The  Batrachomyomachia          .  106 

VIII.    The  Homeric  Hymns. — Hesiod.  —  Greek  Musio  .         .  126 

IX.    Ionian  Lyric  Poetry 145 

X.    ^olian  and  Dorian  Lyric  Poetry         .         .         .  166 
XI.    Pindar.  —  The  Greek  Drama.  —  tEschylus       .  188 
XII.    Euripides.  —  Sophocles.  —  Aristophanes  )    .         .  214 
XHI.    The  Later  Greek  Drama.  —  Decline  of  Letters.  —  The 
Alexandrian  Period.      The  Byzantine  Period.  —  Mod- 
ern Greek  Poetrt iv 


SECOND    COURSE. 

THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

I.    Hellas  and  the  Hellenes  .         .  271 

H.    Outline  View  of  Hellenic  Culture  .  289 

III.  The  Decline  of  Hellas.  —  Rural  Life  in  Greece  .'  310 

IV.  Roads.  —  Houses. — Furniture.  —  Marriage.  —  Xenophon's     • 

CEconomiccs  .  S3 1 


* 


VI  CONTENTS. 

V.    Household  Expenses.  —  Occupations.  —  Food.  —  Feasts.  — 

Markets  ....  356 

VI.    Dress.  —  Armor.  —  Artistical  Drapery.  —  Manufactures, 

Trade,  and  Commerce 379 

VTI.    Dorian  Manners  and  Customs.  —  Clubs.  —  Provision  fob 

the  Poor.  —  The  Medical  Profession  ....     398 

VTH.    Education 417 

IX.    General  Culture.  —  Worship.  —  Divination.  —  Oracles  .     434 
X.    Temples.  —  State  of  Religious  Belief.  —  Philosophers.  — 
Funeral  Rites  and  Monuments.  —  Belief  concerning  a 
Future  Life.  —  Wills     .......     452 

XI.    Government      .  ^478 

A-LL     Literature.  —  The  Theatre       ....  ,     48.1 


CONTENTS 

OF    THE    SECOND    VOLUME. 


THIRD    COURSE. 

CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

LCCTUBK  PjBJ 

I.     General  View  of  Greece.  —  Greek  Polity  .         .         3 

II.     Constitutions  op  the  Heroic  Age.  —  Slavery  18 

III.  Plato  and  Aristotle  on  Slavery.  —  Slavery  and  Chris 

TIANITY  34 

IV.  The  early  Tyrannies.  —  The  Spartan  Constitution  52 
V.     Athenian  Kings.  —  Solon  and  his  Laws  .         .         .  71 

VI.     The  Constitution  of  Cleisthenes                                    .91 
VII.     The  Persian  Wars.  —  Origin  of  Attic  Eloquence.  —  Per- 
icles)          Ill 

VIII.     Genius  and  Services  of  Pericles.  —  Athens  in  the  Times 

of  Pericles  ) 133 

IX.     The    Peloponnesian   War.' — The   Demos.  —  Antiphon. — 

Andocides 146 

X.   (  The  Spartan  Ascendency.  —  Epoch  of  Theban  Glory  J— 

LYSIAS.  —  ISOCRATES.  —  IS.EUS.  —  LYSIAS  AND    Is^US    COM- 
PARED .  .  .  .  .  .171 

XI.     Trial  of  Socrates.  —  Plato's  Republic.  —  Age  of  Philip 

and  Alexander.1 — Lycurgus.  —  -(Eschines.  —  Hyperides     196 
;  ■  f 

XII.     Demosthenes    -f  .  .         .  .219 


FOURTH    COURSE. 
MODERN  GREECE. 

I.     Introduction.  —  The  Greek  Revolution.  —  Character  of 

the  Modern  Greeks.  —  Character  of  the  Turks  249 

II      The  Macedonian  Ascendency.  —  Greece  under  the  Ro- 
mans    272 


V  CONTENTS. 

III.  From  Constantine  to  the  Byzantine  Period  .  29fl 

IV.  Greece  Christianized.  —  St.  Chrysostom. —  The  Eastern 

Church      .  ....  816 

V.     The  Byzantine   Empire. — The  Latin  Emperors.  —  The 

Dukes  of  Athens .  340 

VI.     Turkish  Conquest  of  Constantinople.  —  Literature  of 

the  Byzantine  Period    .......  360 

VII.     Byzantine  Scholarship.  —  Greece  under  the  Turks    .  384 

VIII.     The  Greek  Revolution 408 

TX.     History  of  the  War  of  Independence  .         .  431 

X.     Greece    after    the    Revolution.  —  Ascension    of    King 

Otho 455 

XI.     First  Years  of  Otho's  Reign.  —  Constitution  of  1844. 

—  Greece  since  1843 476 

XII.     Language    and    Pronunciation.  —  Education.  —  Litera- 
ture.—  Poetry.  —  Adventures  of  Travel  .501 

General  Index         .  -         -  M' 


FIRST    COURSE. 


THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY 


LECTURE    I. 


THE   ORIGIN   OF  LANGUAGE. 


In  the  present  course  of  lectures,  I  propose  to  discuss  three 
main  topics.  These  are :  1.  The  Position  of  the  Greek  Lan- 
guage in  the  History  of  Human  Speech ;  2.  The  Position  of 
Greek  Poetry  in  the  History  of  Poetic  Culture ;  and  3.  The 
History  and  Value  of  Greek  Poetiy,  in  itself  considered.  In 
handling  these  subjects,  I  shall  adopt  the  method  of  compari- 
son, because  true  knowledge,  upon  any  subject  whatsoever,  is 
gained  chiefly  in  this  manner.  In  our  classical  studies,  we  are 
too  much  inclined  to  follow  the  beaten  way,  and  to  forget  that 
the  great  languages  of  Greece  and  Rome,  the  great  masters 
who  wielded  those  marvellous  instruments  of  thought  and 
intellectual  power,  the  great  literatures  which  have  ridden 
out  the  storms  of  many  ages,  and  have  come,  though  with 
torn  sails  and  shattered  hull,  down  to  our  times,  stood  in  close 
relations  to  those  that  went  before,  as  they  stand  in  close  rela- 
tions to  those  that  have  followed  after  them. 

Moreover,  if  we  would  gain  a  comprehensive  view  of  the 
diversities  and  powers  of  language,  we  must  not  limit  the  com 
parison  to  the  single  group  of  languages,  however  extensive, 
tc  which  the  English  and  the  Greek  belong,  for  these  are  all 
constructed  on  a  single  type  ;  but  we  must  extend  our  research 
to  those  vast  families  of  languages  that  occupy  the  greater  part 
of  the  continents  of  Asia,  Africa,  and  America :  and  we  shall 
see  that  the  ideas  we  form  by  studying  a  single  model,  under 
how  many  varieties  soever,  require  to  be  greatly  mcdified  and 
enlarged  by  the  other  terms  of  the  comparison.      The  Ian- 


1  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

guage  of  savages  and  that  of  children  throw  the  most  impor- 
tant light  upon  the  whole  philosophy  of  speech,  and  I  shall 
venture,  very  briefly,  to  touch  upon  these  illustrations  so  far 
as  my  limited  studies  enable  me  to  do.  Perhaps  the  best 
established  despotism  in  the  world  is  the  government  of  the 
verb  by  the  nominative  case ;  but  there  are  languages  in 
which  the  verb  governs  the  nominative  case. 

Many  topics  belonging  to  each  of  the  above-named  heads 
must  be  wholly  passed  over ;  many  must  be  just  alluded  to : 
many  I  shall  dismiss  with  a  slight  discussion.  But  I  hope  1 
shall  be  able  to  deal,  however  inadequately,  with  those  which 
are  the  most  important. 

If  we  look  over  the  present  world,  we  are  amazed  at  the 
infinite  variety  of  the  human  character,  while  we  feel  the 
everlasting  ties  which  bind  its  myriads  of  forms  into  one  com- 
mon nature.  The  physiologist  traces  and  classifies  the  races  of 
men  ;  the  geographer  places  them  within  their  appointed  habi- 
tations ;  the  historian  follows  out  their  fortunes  in  their  succes- 
sive migrations  and  dispersions :  and  as  we  look  back  into  the 
past,  these  distinctions  of  race  are  as  strongly  marked  in  the 
earliest  times  of  which  we  have  record,  as  they  are  at  the 
present  moment ;  nor  has  any  new  race  been  formed,  nor  any 
tendency  to  the  formation  of  a  new  race  been  demonstrated, 
since  the  beginning  of  the  written  or  monumental  history  of 
man.  We  see  them  issuing,  like  so  many  processions  in  long 
array,  from  the  portals  of  the  past,  taking  up  their  lines  of 
march  along  the  great  highways  of  nature,  and  moving  in 
various  directions  over  the  surface  of  the  earth.  At  times 
they  come  into  mutual  conflict,  or  cross  one  another's  path; 
now  there  is  a  partial  blending  of  the  streams  of  life ;  and  then 
a  wide  divergence  or  strong  repulsion.  Nations  occupy  the 
«tage  of  history,  and,  having  spoken  their  speech  and  played 
their  part,  retire ;  others  are  midway  in  the  great  drama  of 
their  national  existence.  Some  are  touching  their  catastrophe, 
and  others  are  rehearsing  for  exhibition,  and  preparing  to  make 
their  first  appearance  on  the  theatre  of  the  world. 


THE   ORIGIN   OF  LANGUAGE.  5 

Is  there  any  unity  of  plan  in  these  complicated  and  ever- 
shifting  scenes  ?  Yes :  that  unity  is  in  the  nature  of  man. 
In  all  time,  in  all  space,  he  is  the  same  being  in  all  that  makes 
him  a  human  being.  He  has  the  same  religious  tendency,  the 
same  reasoning  power,  the  same  gift  of  speech.  Whether  all 
the  historical  forms  of  religion  can  be  accounted  for  by  one 
primeval  revelation,  or  not ;  whether  all  the  physical  varieties 
of  mankind  can  be  referred  to  one  initial  race,  or  not ;  whether 
all  the  migrations  that  have  overrun  the  earth  can  be  traced 
back  to  one  starting-point,  or  not ;  whether  all  the  varieties  of 
speech  that  make  the  earth  an  illimitable  Babel  have  come 
from  a  single  language  communicated  to  man  at  the  moment 
of  his  creation,  or  not,  —  amidst  all  this  warfare  of  unsettled 
disputes,  unanswered  questions,  contradictory  opinions,  man 
remains  essentially  the  same,  —  a  religious  being,  a  reasoning 
being,  a  speaking  being,  and  these  are  the  three  attributes  that 
constitute  the  sublime  unity  of  his  nature. 

Speech,  then,  though  not,  as  some  of  the  ancients  asserted, 
the  sole  distinguishing  attribute  of  man,  is  among  the  chief  of 
them.  Universal  as  it  is,  not  one  of  the  marvels  that  encom- 
pass our  life  is  so  miraculous.  Little  as  we  think  of  it,  we 
cannot  think  without  it  in  one  or  another  of  its  forms.  To 
employ  language,  to  speak,  is  to  set  in  motion  the  divinest 
organism  of  our  being.  With  what  inexpressible  skill  is  the 
machinery  of  speech  framed  together,  and  adapted  part  to  part! 
The  articulating  organs ;  the  life-supporting  air ;  the  mind  that 
sends  its  orders  from  the  brain,  where  it  sits  enthroned,  along 
the  nerves  which  set  these  organs  in  motion ;  the  impulse  borne 
on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  sweeping  through  the  intervening 
space,  knocking  at  the  porches  of  the  ear,  passing  along  the 
nerves  of  sensation,  and  leaving  in  the  presence  of  another 
mind  a  bodiless  thought,  which  the  flying  messenger  was  sent 
to  bear,  —  how  familiar,  yet  how  miraculous,  is  all  this !  Rhe- 
nius,  a  missionary  in  the  East,  at  the  close  of  the  Preface  to 
his  Tamil  Grammar,  exclaims :  "To  God,  the  eternal  and  al- 
mighty Jehovah,  and  Author  of  speech,  be  glory  for  ever  and 
ever." 


b  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND  POETRY. 

Language  is  at  once  the  evidence  and  the  memorial  of  the 
universal  brotherhood  of  man.  It  binds  with  its  everlasting 
chain  every  nation  and  race  and  kindred.  By  articulated 
speech,  thought  answers  to  thought,  as  face  answers  to  face  in 
a  glass,  and  we  know  what  passes  in  the  mind  of  our  brother. 
By  written  speech  we  record  our  experiences  for  the  instruc- 
tion of  those  who  shall  come  after  us,  and  make  those  books, 
which,  in  the  language  of  Milton,  contain  "  the  life-blood  of 
master-spirits  laid  up  for  a  life  after  life."  Written  words  are 
the  instruments  of  communion  between  all  races  and  all  lands, 
the  carrier-birds  of  human  thought  from  country  to  country, 
from  age  to  age,  across  the  dividing  and  reuniting  seas,  across 
the  abysms  of  centuries  and  millenniums.  Language  embodies 
the  literature  of  nations,  and  so  becomes  the  most  vivid  expres- 
sion of  character.  The  action,  suffering,  and  passion  of  the 
human  race  are  best  read  in  its  successive  literatures.  The 
actual  world,  as  it  has  been  mirrored  in  the  mind  of  man, 
and  the  ideal  world  of  art,  built  upon  the  foundation  of  reality, 
but  rising  high  above  it,  stand  before  us,  in  the  histories,  phi- 
losophies, and  poetic  creations,  recorded  in  the  many-voiced 
languages  of  men. 

In  the  earliest  dawn  of  history,  many  distinct  forms  of  civili- 
zation rise  upon  the  view,  —  luminous  points  in  the  obscurity 
of  the  past.  What  hidden  relations  exist  between  them  ? 
This  question  leads  us  upon  a  track  of  inquiry,  which  an 
instinct  or  law  of  our  nature  forces  us  to  pursue,  in  search 
after  the  beginnings  of  things.  But  our  inquiries,  however 
earnest,  are  often  baffled  by  the  fact,  that  they  who  lived  and 
wrought  in  the  beginning  kept  no  records,  —  they  died  and 
made  no  sign.  Trace  the  course  of  man  as  far  back  as  we 
may,  we  reach  only  a  state  of  things  requiring  long  previous 
ages  to  bring  it  about.  Trace  language  back  as  far  as  we 
may,  at  the  remotest  point  which  our  inquiries  can  reach  we 
find  a  perfectness  in  the  structure  and  a  completeness  in  the 
development  of  speech,  that  imply  ages  of  practice  and  thought 
ful  culture.     We  seem  no  nearer  a  single  primitive  language. 


THE   ORIGIN   OF   LANGUAGE.  7 

than  we  now  are  with  two  thousand  spoken  languages  that  fill 
the  earth  with  their  dissonances.  If  we  strive  to  pierce  to  the 
beginnings  of  literature,  we  are  forced  to  acknowledge  that  we 
find,  not  rude  and  barbarous  essays,  but  the  masterpieces  of  art, 
the  highest  finish  of  composition,  the  most  exquisite  command 
of  all  the  resources  of  practised  genius.  There  is,  then,  no 
evading  the  conclusion,  that  letters  and  art,  narrative  and 
song,  flourished  before  the  dawn  of  our  historical  day  among 
primeval  nations,  the  long-descended  ancestors  of  those  whom 
we  were  wont  to  place  at  the  very  commencement  of  human 
affairs.  Revelation  indeed  informs  us,  and  science  demonstrates 
the  fact,  that  human  existence,  in  the  history  of  the  globe,  had 
a  comparatively  recent  origin ;  but  neither  tells  us  precisely 
when.  Our  chronologies  are  but  rude  approximations  on  im- 
perfect data,  nor  can  the  life  of  man  on  earth  be  bounded  by 
them.  Man  began  to  be,  has  been,  and  is ;  he  was  fashioned 
intellectually  in  the  semblance  of  his  Maker ;  he  is  doing  the 
work  he  was  intended  to  do,  and  he  is  speaking  the  thought  he 
was  intended  to  speak.  But  under  what  circumstances  was 
he  created  ?  In  what  condition  of  body  and  mind  was  he  born 
into  conscious  being  ?  Was  he  gifted  with  speech,  or  only  with 
the  power  of  speech  ?  Was  his  mind  filled  with  thoughts,  or 
only  endowed  with  the  power  of  thought,  to  be  called  in  action 
by  the  need  of  thinking  ? 

If  we  knew  the  history  of  language  completely,  all  these 
questions  might  be  answered  with  certainty;  for  this  knowl- 
edge would  tell  us  whence  came  every  word,  under  what 
motive  it  was  selected,  what  it  meant,  and  what  changes  of 
meaning  it  has  undergone  ;  that  is,  it  would  tell  us  all  the 
thoughts  that  have  ever  been  uttered  by  men,  —  it  would  con- 
tain a  perfect  record  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  history  of 
the  race.  And  so  far  as  the  history  of  language  can  be  traced, 
so  far  can  the  history  of  the  race  be  illustrated.  So  far  as  its 
mysterious  origin  and  its  miraculous  structure  can  be  unfolded, 
so  far  can  we  pierce  into  the  hidden  laboratories  of  thought  ; 
for  the  forms  of  thought  mould  and  define  the  organism  of 
language. 


«  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

The  questions  that  grow  out  of  language  were  considered, 
however  unskilfully,  by  the  ancients,  or  some  of  them.  Herod- 
otus relates,  on  the  authority  of  an  Egyptian  priest,  that  until 
the  time  of  Psammetichus  that  nation  thought  themselves  the 
oldest  people  on  the  earth.  But  in  order  to  decide  the  point 
beyond  a  doubt,  Psammetichus  placed  two  new-born  children 
under  the  care  of  a  shepherd,  with  orders  not  to  speak  a  word 
in  their  hearing,  "wishing  to  know  what  word  they  would  first 
utter  when  they  should  abandon  their  inarticulate  whimper- 
ings." At  the  end  of  two  years,  as  he  opened  the  door  of  their 
cabin  one  morning,  they  ran  to  him  with  outstretched  hands, 
crying,  Be/cos !  ySe/co?  /  This  having  been  repeated  many 
times,  the  shepherd  reported  the  fact  to  the  king,  who  sent  in 
all  directions  to  ascertain  what  people  called  anything  by  that 
name.  It  appeared  that  the  Phrygians  called  bread  /Se/to?, 
from  which  it  was  inferred  that  they  were  the  oldest  nation. 
This  is  the  first  attempt  at  comparative  philology  on  record. 

It  was  a  common  idea  among  the  ancients  that  language  was 
imparted  to  man  by  the  gods.  Plato  discusses  to  some  extent 
the  question  suggested  by  the  experiment  of  Psammetichus,  — 
whether  there  is  any  natural  and  inherent  relation  between  the 
word  and  the  thing  signified  by  the  word ;  as,  for  instance, 
whether  avdpwiros,  man,  must  signify  a  human  being,  or  might 
equally  well  have  meant  a  horse.  To  solve  the  problem,  he 
resorts  to  a  fanciful  etymology,  fixing  the  meanings  of  its 
several  parts ;  but,  on  the  whole,  he  leaves  the  subject  much 
as  he  found  it. 

The  same  question,  with  different  applications,  has  often 
been  discussed  in  modern  times.  According  to  the  sensual 
philosophy,  which  regards  man  as  only  a  higher  animal,  lan- 
guage springs  from  brutish  inarticulate  sounds.  Lord  Mon- 
boddo,  in  his  acute  and  learned  work  on  the  origin  of  language, 
does  not  exactly  degrade  man  to  the  monkey,  as  he  is  some- 
times accused  of  doing,  but  he  raises  the  monkey  into  man. 
He  maintains  that  the  orang-outang,  or  wild-man  of  Africa, 
is  in  the  first  stage  of  human  progress ;  that  horses  in  Tartary, 


THE   ORIGIN   OF  LANGUAGE.  9 

beavers  in  America,  and  monkeys  in  Africa,  are  "political  ani- 
mals ;  and  that,  therefore,  Aristotle's  definition  of  man,  as  a 
ttoXitikov  %(oov,  fails  to  distinguish  him  from  many  of  the  quad- 
rupeds. Of  an  orang-outang,  whose  stuffed  skin  he  saw  in 
Paris,  he  says :  "  He  had  exactly  the  shape  and  features  of  a 
man ;  and  particularly  I  was  informed  that  he  had  organs  of 
pronunciation  as  perfect  as  we  have.  He  lived  several  years 
at  Versailles,  and  died  by  drinking  spirits."  In  the  opinion  of 
this  class  of  writers,  language  is  not  natural  to  man,  though  he 
has  proved  himself  capable  of  acquiring  it.  In  his  natural 
state,  he  employs  only  inarticulate  sounds ;  but,  being  a  rational 
animal,  he  learns  by  slow  degrees  the  convenience  of  dividing 
long-protracted  sounds  into  smaller  portions,  and  thus  finally 
works  out  a  perfected  speech.  "Impotent  philosophers,"  ex- 
claims Mazure,  "  who,  in  the  production  of  the  divine  work 
of  speech,  forgot  only  one  element,  the  divine  hand  of  the 
Maker!" 

The  vague  sounds  made  by  animals  are  indeed  expressive, 
but  not  of  thought.  Whatever  be  the  range  of  their  tones, 
they  convey  only  the  most  indefinite  expression  of  the  most 
general  feelings,  —  such  as  pleasure  or  pain.  One  could  hardly 
fail  to  understand  the  physical  joy  that  inspires  the  song  of  the 
bobolink  in  spring,  or  the  agony  that  pours  from  the  robin's 
throat  when  the  stealthy  cat  approaches  her  young.  Within 
certain  narrow  limits,  the  vocal  powers  may  be  improved  in 
some  animals  by  training:  but  the  mocking-bird  plays  his  vocal 
tricks  by  instinct,  not  by  thought ;  and  the  parrot,  taught  by 
sailors  to  swear,  has  no  conception  of  the  depravity  of  his  pro- 
fane masters.  In  these  cases  the  vocal  organism  of  the  animal 
has  outrun  the  intellectual,  —  a  foreshadowing,  it  may  be,  of 
the  higher  strain  carried  to  its  full  perfection  in  the  harmo- 
nious organism  of  man.  The  human  being  begins  with  the 
vocal  expression  of  vague  instinctive  feelings,  like  the  animal ; 
but  he  passes  from  these  indeterminate  wails,  or  joyous  prolon- 
gations of  sound,  to  articulated,  or  divided  speech,  as  surely,  as 
universally,  as  inevitably,  as  he  grows  up  into  a  man,  and  not  a 


10  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

quadruped  or  bird.  He  was  born  to  speak,  and  speak  he  will, 
let  the  arguments  of  theoretical  philosophers  prove  what  they 
may.  The  word  is  in  him,  the  organism  is  in  him,  placed 
there  by  the  hand  of  Infinite  Wisdom :  the  organism  will  work, 
and  the  word  will  be  uttered,  as  certainly  as  the  man  will 
walk  upright.  He  needs  not  to  learn  to  build  from  the  swa1- 
low,  to  weave  from  the  spider,  nor  to  sing  from  the  robin.  He 
declines  to  accept  the  compromise  offered  him  by  the  materi- 
alists of  the  last  century,  who  deprived  him  of  speech,  but  by 
way  of  compensation  appended  to  him  a  tail ;  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  one,  and  the  acquisition  of  the  other,  being  alike 
the  final  consummation  of  a  tedious  series  of  civilizing  habits 
and  experiments. 

I  think  we  may  safely  say,  that  the  business  of  proper 
human  life  cannot  be  carried  on  without  language  in  some 
form ;  and  that  human  beings,  leaving  out  a  few  easily  ex- 
plained exceptional  cases,  employ  language  as  naturally  as  they 
breathe  the  vital  air.  The  absolute  historical  beginning  of  hu- 
man speech  is  left  as  much  in  the  dark  as  the  mode  of  the 
beginning  of  human  life  in  general.  Herder  was  inclined  to 
believe  that  man  first  awoke  to  conscious  existence  in  the  beau- 
tiful valley  of  Cashmere,  and  that  human  speech  was  first  heard 
in  those  lovely  regions.  An  opposite  opinion  supposes  that  man 
appeared  simultaneously  wherever  the  earth  was  fitted  to  sup- 
port his  physical  existence ;  and  that  the  intellectual  differences 
which  mark  the  varieties  of  the  race,  and  the  corresponding 
diversities  in  the  form  and  structure  of  speech,  began  with  the 
beginning  of  all  things.  According  to  one  view,  a  certain  stock 
of  words,  like  a  certain  amount  of  bodily  strength,  was  fur 
nished  to  man,  or  certain  varieties  of  words  to  men,  from 
which  the  work  of  forming  language  or  languages  was  to  be 
carried  forward  and  completed ;  according  to  another,  man  was 
left  with  the  capacity  only,  and  had  to  do  the  whole  work  him- 
self. We  cannot  attain  a  perfectly  satisfactory  conception  of 
the  method  of  the  transaction  in  either  case.  The  ways  of  the 
AJmighty  are  past  finding  out.      But  we  may  rest  assured  tha 


THE   ORIGIN   OF   LANGUAGE.  11 

the  miracle  of  language,  on  which  the  beginning  of  human 
speech  reposes,  like  the  miracle  of  creation  itself,  was  an  exer- 
cise of  the  Divine  power,  carefully  and  wisely  adjusted  to  the 
exigencies  of  the  case.  We  may,  however,  venture  to  draw 
nigh  the  origin  of  speech,  and  imagine  to  ourselves  its  early 
characteristics  ;  for  we  are  able  to  trace  its  now  existing  forms 
back  into  a  remote  and  awful  antiquity.  We  may  picture  the 
earliest  men,  as  they  looked  with  wonder  on  the  world  around 
them,  and  expressed  in  sound  the  images  with  which  their 
minds  were  filled.  Speech  gave  back  the  emotions  out  of 
which  it  sprang.  Soft  and  harmonious  sounds  expressed  the 
gentle  feelings  of  the  heart ;  while  rough  and  violent  intona- 
tions embodied  in  mimetic  vocalism  the  harsh,  the  painful, 
the  agitating  passions,  as  they  arose  to  disturb  the  serenity  of 
life.  The  elemental  sounds,  in  this  way,  had  a  general  signifi- 
cance ;  but  the  few  imitative  monosyllables,  of  which  the  prim- 
itive language  or  languages  consisted,  were  combined  and 
recombined,  to  adapt  themselves  to  the  illimitable  range  of 
shifting  and  multiplying  thought. 

It  has  been  a  subject  of  inquiry  among  philologists,  what 
classes  of  words  were  first  invented  or  inspired.  Some  have 
claimed  precedence  for  interjections,  as  if  the  first  employment 
of  new-created  man  were  to  feel  astonishment  and  to  express 
it  by  exclamations ;  others,  for  nouns,  as  if  man  first  busied 
himself  with  giving  names  to  the  objects  around  him,  and  mak- 
ing out  catalogues ;  others,  still,  trace  the  earliest  form  of  speech 
in  the  verb ;  as  if  action  —  the  doing  this  or  that  —  had  been 
the  first  manifestation  of  life  that  clothed  itself  in  sound.  So 
far  as  we  can  judge,  neither  of  these  was  exclusively  the  first, 
but  the  same  word  was  employed  with  all  these  modifications 
of  sense.  This  fact  holds  partially  in  the  present  state  of  all 
languages,  and  wholly  in  some,  as  the  Chinese.  The  word  ex- 
presses the  idea  of  size,  for  instance,  in  the  most  general  way 
In  one  combination  it  means  great,  in  another  greatness,  in  an- 
other to  make  great,  in  another  to  be  great,  in  another  greatly 
We  may  infer,  then,  that  sometimes  one  and  sometimes  another 


12  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

part  of  speech  came  into  existence  first,  according  to  circum- 
stances ;  sometimes  the  act,  sometimes  the  quality,  some- 
times the  degree  ;  the  root  of  the  word  undergoing  the 
modifications  required  by  all  these  shapes  of  thought  in  the 
inflecting  languages,  and  containing  them  all  by  implication  in 
the  uninflecting  languages.  The  inquiry  becomes  then  an 
idle  one,  and  can  lead  to  no  results. 

But  what  was  the  primitive  language  of  man,  if  there  was 
one  ?  Does  it  exist,  in  whole  or  in  part,  in  any  known  lan- 
guage, or  does  it  lie  dispersed  and  hidden  among  them  all  ?  If 
we  could  trace  all  languages  back  to  one,  and  follow  that  to  its 
primeval  form,  we  could  answer  with  certainty  this  question, 
which  has  so  often  been  answered  positively  enough,  but  on 
the  most  uncertain  grounds.  As  I  have  said,  the  question  can- 
not well  be  answered,  because  at  the  earliest  point  to  which 
our  investigations  ascend,  all  the  languages  which  we  have  the 
best  means  of  knowing  were  sufficiently  formed  to  meet  all  the 
great  demands  for  communication  among  the  nations  and  races 
speaking  them.  Enthusiastic  scholars,  however,  endeavored  to 
pierce  the  veil,  and  to  determine  what  language  the  first  man 
spoke,  —  what  language  Adam  used  in  Paradise.  But  opinions 
swayed  in  favor  of  this  or  that,  according  to  the  personal  pre- 
dilections or  favorite  studies  of  writers.  Some  enthusiastic 
Irish  patriots  stood  up  stoutly  for  the  Erse  or  Wild  Irish ; 
Welshmen  claimed  the  honor  for  a  kindred  dialect,  the  Welsh ; 
Gaelic  has  not  wanted  its  champions.  The  universally  ac- 
knowledged antiquity  of  the  Hebrew,  and  the  circumstance 
that  the  Sacred  Writings  were  composed  in  that  venerable 
dialect,  naturally  led  many  to  the  conclusion  that  Adam  was 
created  with  this  language  ready  formed  upon  his  lips,  and 
that  from  this  all  others  are  directly  or  remotely  derived. 

Perhaps  the  strangest  opinion  of  all  is  that  of  certain 
Quixotic  Spanish  scholars,  who  have  proved  that  the  Basque 
language  is  not  only  the  first  ever  spoken  by  man,  but,  on 
account  of  its  incomparable  perfections  and  unexampled  copi- 
ousness, must  have  been  infused  by  the  Almighty  into   the 


THE   ORIGIN   OF  LANGUAGE.  18 

minds  of  our  first  parents.  The  Basque  is  a  rude  dialect, 
spoken  by  the  peasantry  on  the  Pyrenean  borders  of  France 
and  Spain.  It  has  no  traceable  affinities  with  any  other  lan- 
guage of  Europe,  and  appears  to  have  come  down  from  a 
very  remote  epoch,  undisturbed  by  the  revolutions  of  time  or 
empire.  It  has  been  thoroughly  examined  by  that  great  and 
philosophical  scholar,  William  von  Humboldt,  and,  from  a  care- 
ful and  beautiful  analysis,  pronounced  to  be  a  remnant  of  the 
Iberian  tongue,  or  the  language  spoken  by  the  primitive  inhab- 
itants of  the  Peninsula,  before  they  were  disturbed  by  the 
immigration  of  the  Celts.  Whether  they  were  the  children 
of  the  soil,  created  on  the  spot,  or  came  in  from  Asia  at  a 
period  anterior  to  the  earliest  legends,  by  a  migration  which 
has  left  no  certain  trace  behind  it  on  the  way,  Humboldt  does 
not  undertake  to  decide.  The  earliest  literary  document  in 
this  language  dates  no  farther  back  than  the  Roman  age ;  coins 
and  medals  carry  its  written  memorials  into  the  Phoenician 
times.  Its  alphabet,  so  far  as  it  can  be  made  out,  is  Greek 
or  Phoenician.  This  meagre  fragment  of  a  language,  that 
must  have  been  poor  enough  in  its  best  estate,  is  said  by  Mr. 
Astarloa  to  contain  4,126,564,929  words  ;  i.  e.  fifty  times  as 
many  words  as  are  comprised  in  all  the  languages  and  dialects 
spoken  on  the  face  of  the  earth  at  the  present  day. 

Another  Spanish  scholar,  Mr.  Erro,  is  scarcely  less  extrava- 
gant. He  maintains  that  the  Basque  is  the  primitive  language. 
He  analyzes  the  names  of  the  letters,  which  are  in  reality  only 
corrupted  forms  of  the  names  of  the  Phoenician  alphabet,  and 
finds  them  significant  of  the  profoundest  truths.  Consequently, 
the  Greek  alphabet  was  derived  from  the  Basque ;  and  if  so, 
then  the  Hebrew,  Phoenician,  and  so  on.  This,  of  course, 
carries  the  Basque  farther  back  than  the  dialect  of  the  patri- 
archs. One  more  long  step  in  the  same  direction  takes  us  to 
the  Tower  of  Babel,  which,  though  it  did  witness  the  confusion 
of  tongues  among  the  builders,  had  no  effect  on  Noah  and  the 
Armenians,  since  they  had  no  participation  in  the  sin  that  led 
to  that  great  catastrophe.     From  this  it  is  plain  sailing  beyond 


14  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

the  Flood,  and  as  Noah  spoke  Basque,  it  remains  only  to  trace 
it  through  the  few  generations  between  him  and  Adam.  Seth 
recorded  his  astronomical  observations  on  two  stone  columns, 
in  Basque,  and  he  learned  it,  of  coui'se,  from  his  father. 

These  are  the  whims  of  one-sided  scholarship,  of  philology 
run  mad.  Some  of  the  conclusions  drawn  by  those  who  en- 
deavored to  trace  the  primitive  language  as  scattered  in  frag- 
ments among  the  various  languages  of  the  different  branches 
of  the  human  family,  were  almost  equally  whimsical.  Towards 
the  close  of  the  last  century,  a  French  writer,  M.  Court  de 
Gebelin,  published  a  work  called  the  Primitive  World,  in  four 
quarto  volumes,  of  about  eight  hundred  pages  each.  The  main 
object  of  this  was  to  found  a  universal  system  of  etymology,  by 
adjusting  the  elements  of  sound  to  the  expression  of  thought,  by 
analyzing  all  sounds,  and  giving  to  each  its  abstract,  ideal,  or 
primitive  signification,  and  by  arranging  all  words,  derivative 
and  radical,  according  to  their  vocal  elements.  These  ele- 
ments are  the  primitive  or  natural  language  taught  to  man  in 
his  cradle,  and  all  the  languages  that  have  ever  been  spoken 
are  derived  from  this  original  source.  For  example,  what 
sound  of  all  possible  sounds  expresses  the  idea  of  roundness  ? 
According  to  him,  Gur,  or  Gryr.  In  Arabic,  Kur  is  Spiral; 
Ma-Kur,  turban;  kura,  to  bind.  In  Hebrew,  Gur  means  to 
assemble,  with  several  derivatives  involving  the  idea  of  circu- 
lar. In  Greek  we  have  Guros;  in  Latin,  Circus,  Circulus,  &c. ; 
in  Anglo-Saxon,  G-yrdan,  to  turn;  Gryr  del,  Girdle.  What  is 
the  natural  or  necessary  sound  for  water?  Luc,  lug,  or  loc, 
found  in  the  names  of  so  many  sheets  of  water,  Lacus,  Laguna, 
Loch,  Lac,  Lake.  It  is  plain  enough  that  this  system  cannot 
be  supported  on  any  fixed  or  scientific  principle.  In  carrying 
the  theory  out,  its  author  is  driven  to  adopt  purely  arbitrary 
analogies,  and  very  violent  and  improbable  derivations.  Nev- 
ertheless, his  is,  in  many  respects,  an  admirable  work.  It  is 
written  in  an  elegant  and  perspicuous  stvle  ;  it  is  always  inter- 
esting and  often  eloquent. 

Mr.   Murray,   a  Scotch  linguist  of  considerable   eminence, 


THE   ORIGIN    OF   LANGUAGE.  15 

took  a  shorter  method,  and  arrived  at  a  more  precise  conclu- 
sion. According  to  him,  all  the  Indo-European  languages 
spring  from  nine  monosyllables,  each  being  a  verb,  and  a  name 
for  a  species  of  action.     These  are,  — 

I.  To  strike,  or  move  with  sharp  effect,  Ag ;  if  the  motion 
be  less  sudden,  Wag  ;  if  made  with  great  force,  Swag.  These 
several  forms  were  used  originally  to  mark  the  motion  of  fire, 
water,  wind,  darts. 

II.  To  strike  with  a  quick,  impelling  force,  Bag,  or  Bwag, 
of  which  Fag  and  Pag  are  softer  varieties. 

III.  To  strike  with  a  strong  blow,  Bwag,  of  which  Thwag 
and  Twag  are  varieties. 

IV.  To  move  or  strike  with  a  quick,  tottering,  unequal  im- 
pulse, Ghoag,  or  Cwag. 

V.  To  strike  with  a  pliant  slap,  Lag,  or  Slag. 

VI.  To  press  by  strong  force  or  impulse,  so  as  to  condense, 
bruise,  compel,  Mag. 

VII.  To  strike  with  a  crushing,  destroying  power,  Nag  and 
Snag. 

VIII.  To  strike  with  a  strong,  rude,  sharp,  penetrating 
power,  Rag,  or  Srag. 

IX.  To  move  with  a  weighty,  strong  impulse,  Swag. 

Of  a  language  formed  out  of  such  beggarly  elements  as  these, 
I  can  only  say,  that,  if  it  was  ever  spoken  at  all,  it  must  have 
been  spoken  by  the  three  ancient  tribes  mentioned  in  South- 
ey's  most  amusing  work,  "  The  Doctor,"  — the  tribes  of  Taag, 
Raag,  and  Boab tails. 

The  result  of  all  these  studies  and  speculations  is  that  no 
primitive  language  now  exists,  in  either  of  the  senses  just  con- 
sidered ;  but  the  inquiries  to  which  they  have  given  rise  have 
been  far  from  useless.  The  comparative  study  of  language  — 
a  science  of  which  the  ancients  had  only  a  faint  presentiment, 
and  which  has  become  a  positive  science  only  within  the  pres- 
*nt  century  —  scarcely  goes  back  beyond  the  revival  of  learn- 
ing in  the  fifteenth  century.  From  the  division  of  the  Roman 
"mpire,  the  Latin  and  Greek  held  divided  sway,  the  one  in  the 


16  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

West,  the  other  in  the  East.  They  were  the  media  of  the 
scholarship,  the  science,  the  theology  of  the  Middle  Age ;  the 
East,  however,  knew  but  little  of  the  one,  and  the  West  but 
little  of  the  other.  The  revival  of  learning  meant  the  revival 
of  ancient  classical  studies,  to  which  the  dispersion  of  learned 
Greeks  over  Europe,  after  the  taking  of  Constantinople  by  the 
Turks,  added  a  powerful  impulse.  At  the  same  time  the  great 
geographical  discoveries  of  this  age  opened  other  and  distant 
parts  of  the  world  to  the  knowledge  of  Europe,  and  brought 
the  long  separated  branches  of  the  human  family  into  a  re- 
newed and  closer  acquaintance  with  each  other.  Next,  clas- 
sical philology  connected  itself  with  the  study  of  Hebrew  and 
the  kindred  Arabic,  Syriac,  and  Aramaic,  on  account  of  their 
relations  to  the  theological  questions  then  agitating  the  world. 
In  the  seventeenth  century  classical,  Hebrew,  and  antiquarian 
studies  were  prosecuted  with  extraordinary  energy  and  devo- 
tion. There  were  giants  in  those  days ;  and  the  vast  monu- 
ments they  have  left  behind  them  —  huge  pyramids  of  learning 
—  bear  witness  to  the  more  than  Egyptian  toils,  compared  with 
which  our  puny  efforts  are  the  insignificant  achievements  of 
pygmies.  Thus  was  a  foundation  laid  for  the  comparison  of 
languages,  which  led  first  to  those  whimsical  theories  I  have 
already  described.  In  the  following  century  many  able  writers, 
Leibnitz,  Harris,  Home  Tooke,  Kant,  Bilderdyk,  discussed 
the  general  principles  of  language,  some  of  them  with  a  partic- 
ular view  to  the  formation  of  what  they  called  a  universal  lan- 
guage. But  the  most  important  events  in  their  influence  upon 
these  studies  were  those  which  brought  the  nations  of  Europe 
into  closer  relations  with  Hindostan,  especially  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Anglo-Indian  Empire.  The  name  of  Sir  William 
Jones,  that  wonderful  scholar  and  linguist,  at  once  occurs  in 
any  consideration  of  this  subject.  The  vast  stores  of  Oriental 
learning  acquired  by  him  were  communicated  constantly  to  the 
European  world,  both  through  the  pages  of  the  Asiatic  Journal 
and  by  independent  works.  His  writings  upon  the  Sanscrit,  — 
the  ancient  and  venerable  language  of  Indian  literature, — and 


THE   ORIGIN   OF   LANGUAGE.  .17 

his  translation  of  the  Sacontala,  excited  extraordinary  interest, 
and  drew  scholars  away  from  the  exclusive  attention  they  had 
previously  bestowed  on  the  comparatively  narrow  range  of  the 
classical  and  sacred  languages,  to  the  wider  field  of  philology 
presented  by  the  languages  and  literatures  of  the  remote  East. 
The  remarkable  affinities  between  the  Sanscrit  and  the  Greek 
and  Latin  were  at  once  appreciated,  and  the  entire  view  of 
the  connection  between  the  various  families  of  speech  under- 
went a  rapid  change.  Early  in  the  present  century,  the  pub- 
lication of  Adelung's  Mithridates  afforded  large  means  for 
comparing  and  classifying  languages  according  to  their  affini- 
ties, and  first  established  the  line  of  distinction  between  mono- 
syllabic and  polysyllabic  tongues.  The  general  views  that  had 
been  silently  forming  were  next  distinctly  developed  by  Fred- 
eric Schlegel,  whose  little  work  on  the  Language,  Philosophy, 
History,  and  Poetry  of  the  Hindoos  excited  an  interest  rarely 
equalled,  by  its  magnificent  generalization  combining  in  one 
line  of  intimate  affinity  the  Sanscrit,  Zend,  Greek,  Roman, 
and  German.  He  has  been  followed  by  a  long  array  of  illus- 
trious scholars,  most  of  whom  are  still  alive,  —  Bopp,  Burnouf, 
Lassen,  Grimm,  Klaproth,  Meyer,  Eichhoff,  Rosen,  Wilson, 
Van  Kennedy,  Bunsen,  and,  in  our  own  country,  Duponceau 
and  Pickering,  who  have  wrought  comparative  philology  into 
its  present  form,  and,  connecting  it  with  history,  ethnology, 
and  physiology,  have  made  it  a  guiding  lamp,  casting  a  broad 
and  steady  light  upon  many  long-darkened  passages  in  the 
early  destiny  of  the  human  race. 


VOL.    I. 


LECTURE    II. 

CLASSIFICATION   OF  LANGUAGES. 

In  the  first  Lecture  I  gave  a  brief  account  of  recent  studies 
in  comparative  philology,  so  far  as  relates  to  the  unity  of 
origin  and  type  among  the  languages  of  the  world.  We  have 
now  arrived  at  the  point  where  the  proper  science  of  language 
commences.  We  have  reached  the  path  which  has  led  to 
great  results,  and  will  lead  to  others  still  more  comprehensive  ; 
for  the  path  is  the  right  one,  and  the  principles  on  which  it  is 
pursued  are  sound  and  philosophical.  The  first  essays  of  com- 
parison endeavored  to  trace  one  language  up  to  another, — 
the  Latin  up  to  the  Greek,  the  Greek  up  to  the  Hebrew, 
and  the  Hebrew  up  to  the  garden  of  Eden.  I  have  already 
shadowed  forth  the  contrary  result,  reached  by  the  true  meth- 
od of  determining  affinities.  Let  me  ask  your  attention  for 
one  moment  to  the  exact  and  philosophical  meaning  of  affinity 
of  speech. 

If  we  look  at  the  words  of  any  language  with  which  we  are 
familiar,  the  first  fact  that  strikes  our  attention  is,  that  most  of 
them  consist  of  two  parts,  —  one  containing  the  general  mean- 
ing, and  the  other  expressing  the  particular  form  of  that  mean- 
ing. For  instance  in  making,  the  significant  part  is  mak,  the 
formal  part  ing.  The  meaning  of  the  word  lies  in  the  first ;  the 
second  gives  it  a  specific  form,  in  this  instance  the  participial. 
Thus  also  in  man's  we  have  the  general  idea  in  man,  and  the 
special  relation  in  the  s  of  the  possessive  case.  These  two  por- 
tions of  a  word  suggest  at  once  two  kinds  of  affinity ;  —  the 
first,  that  which  consists  in  identity  or  similarity  of  the  signifi- 
cant parts  of  individual  words  ;  the  second,  that  which  consists  ir 


CLASSIFICATION   OF   LANGUAGES.  19 

identity  or  similarity  of  structure,  of  grammatical  inflection,  of 
the  formal  part  of  the  words.  The  former  might  arise  in  vari- 
ous ways,  either  by  descent  from  one  common  language,  as  the 
languages  of  the  South  of  Europe  are  descended  from  the  Ro- 
man ;  or  by  frequent  commercial,  literary,  or  other  intercourse, 
by  neighborhood,  or  by  the  intercommunication  of  scientific  ideas 
and  the  appropriate  terminology,  as  in  the  intercourse  between 
the  Greek  and  Roman  in  the  Augustan  age,  and  between  the 
French  and  the  English,  or  the  English  and  the  German,  of 
our  day.  This  process  has  been  constantly  going  on  since  the 
beginning  of  history.  In  regard  to  the  second  kind  of  affinity, 
that  of  grammatical  structure,  the  end  to  be  accomplished  by 
speech,  namely,  the  communication  of  thought,  is  always  the 
same,  notwithstanding  the  contrary  opinion  of  a  celebrated 
diplomatist ;  but  the  means  of  accomplishing  that  end  are  vari- 
ous, opening  a  wide  range  of  choice  to  man's  free  agency,  in 
the  plastic  period  of  the  formation  of  speech.  A  certain  degree 
of  coincidence  in  the  methods  employed  is  to  be  expected  from 
the  uniformity  of  the  laws  of  the  human  mind ;  but  similar 
grammatical  devices  for  expressing  the  specific  forms,  the  re- 
lations of  thought,  the  ideas  of  time,  the  connecting  links 
between  persons  and  things,  cannot  have  been  accidentally 
adopted  by  different  and  distant  nations,  —  cannot  have  been 
borrowed  from  one  another  in  accidental  intercourse;  but 
must  point  to  an  earlier  and  closer  affinity,  if  not  to  identity  of 
origin.  Verbal  resemblances  may  be  accidental ;  grammatical 
resemblances  cannot.  Conclusions  from  the  former  may  be 
fallacious ;  those  drawn  from  the  latter  must  be  true  in  the 
inflecting  languages ;  those  drawn  from  both  united  must  be 
true,  both  in  the  inflecting  and  the  agglutinating.  If  the  sepa- 
ration took  place  at  a  period  of  imperfect  development,  then  the 
separated  nation,  though  retaining  many  radical  resemblances, 
will  unfold  so  many  peculiarities  in  the  organic  individual 
growth  of  its  language,  that  they  will  become  utterly  unintel- 
ligible to  each  other.  Greek  and  Persian,  English  and  French, 
descended  from  the  same  great  stock,  speaking  the  same  radi 


20  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY 

cals,  employing  the  same  type  of  grammatical  forms,  look  upon 
one  another  as  so  many  different  races.  Mr.  Schleicher,  a 
very  distinguished  comparative  philologist,  gives  an  illustration 
of  the  danger  of  drawing  conclusions  of  affinity  from  coinci- 
dences of  sound  and  meaning  between  words  belonging  to 
languages  of  different  types.  The  Magyar  word  for  Wolf 
resembles  in  form  and  sound  the  Sanscrit  name  for  the  same 
animal,  and,  as  the  Magyar  belongs  to  the  Tartar  stock,  it 
might  be  inferred  that  one  had  been  borrowed  from  the  other ; 
but  they  are  radically  different.  The  Magyar  name  is  derived 
from  a  word  signifying  tail ;  the  Sanscrit,  from  a  word  signify- 
ing to  rend.  The  Magyar,  being  a  hunter,  always  on  horse- 
back, named  the  animal  from  that  which  was  the  most  conspic- 
uous feature,  contemplated  in  his  point  of  view ;  the  Hindoo 
knew  him  more  as  the  destroyer,  and  named  him  from  his 
formidable  teeth.  They  thus  drew  their  characteristic  desig- 
nations from  opposite  extremities ;  the  one  called  him  a  tail-er, 
and  the  other  a  tearer. 

This  analysis  of  words  into  the  significant  and  formal  ele- 
ments not  only  furnishes  the  means  of  comparison,  but  suggests 
a  principle  of  classification,  admirable  for  its  simplicity  and 
comprehensiveness.  Since  the  beginning  of  all  languages  must 
have  been  made  with  monosyllables,  all  languages  may  be 
grouped  according  to  the  stage  beyond  this  primitive  condition 
to  which  they  have  respectively  attained.  Those  which  re- 
main in  that  form,  like  the  Chinese,  without  grammatical 
inflections,  constitute  one  group,  called  the  monosyllabic ;  those 
which  have  taken  a  step  beyond,  and  express  the  grammatical 
relations  by  connecting  other  words  loosely  with  the  significant 
elements,  constitute  another  group  called  the  synthetic,  or  ag- 
glutinating;  those  which  express  grammatical  relations,  either 
by  changes  within  the  significant  word  itself,  or  by  parts  added 
or  prefixed  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  them  an  integral  por- 
tion of  the  word,  constitute  a  third  group,  called  the  inflecting 
These  three  groups,  with  their  subordinate  varieties,  exhaus4 
all  the  possibilities  of  language. 


CLASSIFICATION   OF  LANGUAGES.  21 

The  distinction  may  be  very  simply  illustrated  by  taking  the 
two  English  monosyllables,  man  and  book,  and  placing  them  in 
a  grammatical  relation  with  each  other,  —  for  instance,  that  of 
possession.  In  the  uninflected  monosyllabic  state,  the  relation 
would  be  intimated  by  position,  —  Man  booh,  signifying  a  book 
belonging  to  a  man.  In  the  agglutinating  stage  it  would  be, 
Man  his  booh;  that  is,  another  word  containing  the  idea  of  pos- 
session is  loosely  joined  to  express  that  relation.  But  in  the 
final  and  inflecting  stage  it  becomes  Man's  booh.  Here  the 
inflectional  termination  is  not  the  word  his  abbreviated,  as  is 
sometimes  very  erroneously  supposed.  It  comes  from  another 
source,  and  has  no  further  signification  than  as  a  sign  to  mark 
the  grammatical  relation. 

All  children  pass  from  the  mere  animal  cry,  first  to  the 
simplest  monosyllable  consisting  of  a  consonant  and  vowel ; 
then  to  two  consonants  and  a  semivowel ;  then  to  the  complete 
monosyllable  ;  next  to  the  synthetic  or  agglutinating  process, 
in  which  two  or  more  syllables  are  put  together ;  and  last  of  all 
to  the  inflectional.  A  faithful  record  of  the  sounds  uttered  by 
a  child  during  the  first  two  years  of  life  would  help  greatly  to 
illustrate  the  philosophy  of  language.  An  intelligent  mother 
could  not  render  a  better  service  to  science  than  by  keeping 
such  a  journal. 

The  grammatical  relations  in  monosyllabic  languages  arc 
contained,  as  it  were  by  implication,  in  the  words  themselves, 
and  are  conveyed  by  position  in  the  sentence,  or  by  tone,  or 
are  left  to  be  divined  by  the  hearer.  These  languages  are 
few  in  number,  are  of  necessity  extremely  meagre  in  their 
vocabulary,  and  are  obscured  by  numerous  inevitable  ambigui- 
ties. The  agglutinating  languages,  like  the  Tartar  and  the 
North  American  Indian,  are  the  most  numerous,  and  occupy 
the  largest  portion  of  the  surface  of  the  globe.  The  inflecting 
languages  are  also  numerous,  and  are  all  related  to  one  another 
by  radical  and  grammatical  affinities.  They  are  the  languages 
spoken  by  those  nations  and  races  which  have  achieved  the 
history    of  human    progress.        Their   mechanism    displays    a 


22  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

higher  order  of  intellect,  more  complete  development,  greater 
activity,  in  all  directions.  They  are  the  languages  spoken  and 
written  by  the  masters  of  the  world,  —  by  those  who  were  the 
masters  of  the  world  at  the  outset,  and  have  been  so  ever 
since. 

The  monosyllabic  languages,  as  their  name  implies,  consist 
of  monosyllables,  without  grammatical  inflection.  To  illus- 
trate their  character,  I  will  give  a  few  sentences  from  a  Chi- 
nese writer,  Confucius,  first  literally  translated,  and  then  ren- 
dered into  the  forms  of  our  inflecting  language.  The  follow- 
ing is  that  philosopher's  definition  of  law.  "  Heaven  order 
what  call  Nature ;  Nature  conform  what  call  Law ;  Observe 
law  what  call  instruction ;  Law,  not  can  hair  wander ;  Can 
wander  no  Law ;  because  good  man  watch  and  attend  what 
no  appear ;  Fear  and  dread  what  not  hear."  These  are  the 
words,  arranged  in  their  order,  and  representing  as  nearly  as 
possible  the  Chinese  monosyllables  of  which  the  passage  is 
composed.  The  meaning,  when  clothed  in  grammatical  forms, 
is  this :  "  The  order  established  by  Heaven  is  called  Nature ; 
that  which  conforms  to  Nature  is  called  Law ;  the  observance 
of  Law  is  called  Instruction.  The  Law  changes  not  a  hair's 
breadth ;  for,  could  it  change,  it  would  not  be  Law.  This  is 
the  reason  why  the  good  man  watches  the  things  which  the 
eye  sees  not,  and  gives  reverent  attention  to  the  things  which 
the  ear  hears  not." 

The  agglutinating  languages,  with  numerous  subdivisions,  are 
commonly  arranged  under  two  general  divisions ;  —  1.  Those 
which  occupy  a  great  part  of  Asia  and  a  few  isolated  positions 
in  Europe ;  and  2.  The  Indian  languages  of  the  American 
continent,  called  by  Humboldt  the  incorporating  languages.  I 
will  venture  to  add  a  third,  those  of  the  African  continent,  ex- 
cept a  narrow  fringe  on  the  North,  on  grounds  which  I  wiL 
state  by  and  by.  In  the  first,  the  grammatical  inflections  are 
rendered  by  closely  joining  or  inserting  other  words ;  in  the 
second,  clauses  and  even  whole  sentences  are  formed  by  run- 
ning words  together,  or  incorporating  them  into  a  single  long- 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  LANGUAGES.  23 

protracted  utterance.  The  Turkish  verb  denoting  to  love  may 
illustrate  the  former  mode  of  inflection.  The  negative  not  to 
love  is  rendered  by  inserting  a  word  in  the  middle  of  the  verb ; 
not  to  be  able  to  love,  by  inserting  two  words  in  the  middle  of 
the  verb  ;  and  so  on  through  a  vast  variety  of  combinations. 

No  subject  connected  with  this  country  has  more  deeply  in- 
terested the  scholars  of  Europe  than  the  Indian  languages,  and 
no  department  of  our  literature  has  been  more  eagerly  sought 
after  or  more  highly  appreciated  than  the  writings  of  our 
scholars  upon  them.  In  truth,  the  knowledge  of  the  peculiar 
structure  of  these  languages  has  changed  the  whole  theory  of 
speech,  and  introduced  new  and  unsuspected  forms  of  the  ex- 
pression of  thought  to  the  philological  world. 

From  the  Frozen  Ocean  to  the  extremity  of  South  America, 
the  languages  of  this  continent  are  constructed  upon  a  peculiar 
agglutinating  plan,  exhibiting  features  which  distinguish  them 
from  the  Asiatic  tongues.  They  are  divided,  however,  into 
numerous  families,  radically  different  from  one  another ;  and 
these  families  again  are  subdivided  into  hundreds  of  local  dia- 
lects, differing  in  details,  but  agreeing  in  the  main  features  of 
a  common  speech.  Mr.  Gallatin  estimates  the  number  of  lan- 
guages within  the  territory  of  the  United  States,  east  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  at  sixty  or  more,  which  may  be  reduced  to 
eight  families.  The  languages  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
are  similarly  distributed  into  radically  different  families.  In 
the  nations  composing  the  Mexican  empire,  fifteen  or  sixteen 
languages  were  spoken,  at  the  head  of  which  stood  the  Aztec, 
the  language  of  the  court  and  the  capital.  A  similar  variety 
was  found  in  Peru  and  the  other  regions  of  South  America. 
When  the  Europeans  arrived  there,  they  detected  vast  differ- 
ences in  the  stages  of  culture  between  the  utter  barbarism  of 
the  northernmost  tribes  and  the  semi-civilization  of  Mexico  and 
Peru.  Some  of  the  languages  were  found  to  be  harsh  as  the 
hissing  of  snakes  or  the  howl  of  demons,  others  remarkably 
soft  and  musical.  But  with  all  these  variations  of  form,  phrase, 
vnd  sound,  they  agree,  with  a  single  doubtful  exception,  in  the 


24  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

agglutinating  or  synthetic  method,  called  by  Humboldt  incoi- 
poration,  by  Cass  coalescence,  and  by  Schoolcraft  accretion , 
the  principle  being,  in  the  language  of  Gallatin,  "  to  concen- 
trate in  a  single  word  all  the  ideas  which  have  a  natural  con- 
nection, and  present  themselves  naturally  to  the  mind." 

Jonathan  Edwards,  the  great  metaphysician  of  our  country, 
had  his  early  training  among  the  Mohican  or  Stockbridge  Indi- 
ans, and  their  language  was  more  familiar  to  him  than  his  own. 
He  says  that  his  thoughts  ran  in  Indian  when  a  child.  In  his 
observations  on  their  language,  he  says  that,  if  you  ask  an  Indian 
the  word  for  hand,  holding  out  your  own,  he  will  answer  by  a 
word  signifying  thy  hand;  if  you  point  to  his,  he  will  say  my 
hand;  if  you  point  to  that  of  a  third  person,  he  will  give  a 
word  that  means  his  hand ;  but  never  the  simple,  general  term 
hand.  This  specific  character  is  shown  in  all  the  American 
languages.  In  the  Delaware  there  is  no  generic  term  in  use  for 
oak;  but  the  Spanish  oak  is  called,  A-mang-ganasch-qui-minski, 
that  is,  the  tree  with  large  leaves  like  the  hand.  In  Cherokee, 
the  act  of  washing  has  thirteen  different  combinations,  I  wash 
myself,  my  head,  another's  head,  my  face,  another's  face,  my 
hands,  another's  hands,  my  feet,  another' s  feet,  and  so  on.  The 
longest  Cherokee  word  has  seventeen  syllables,  —  Wi-ni-tan- 
ti-ge-gi-na-li-skaw-lung-ta-nan-ne-li-ti-se-sti, — meaning  "  They 
will  by  that  time  have  nearly  done  granting  favors  from  a  dis- 
tance to  me  and  thee." 

In  the  Aztec,  the  words  are,  if  not  of  learned  length,  at 
least  of  thundering  sound.  The  capacity  of  forming  new  com- 
binations was  well  tested  by  the  missionaries,  as  in  the  term 
for  original  sin,  —  tla-cat-zin-til-iz-tla-tla-colli,  meaning  "  the 
foundation  of  the  sins  of  men,"  and  others  still  longer  and 
more  extraordinary. 

But  the  most  remarkable  trait  in  this  Aztec  language,  and 
the  one  that  shows  the  deep  degradation  in  whioh  the  people 
were  sunk,  is  what  the  grammarians  have  called  the  reveren- 
tial form.  This  is  not  like  the  terms  of  respect  and  deference 
found  in  other  languages,  but  it  runs  through  all  the  parts  of 


CLASSIFICATION   OF  LANGUAGES.  25 

speech,  and  was  used  in  speaking  to  or  of  superiors,  parents, 
priests,  gods,  in  every  mode  of  expression.  Nouns,  verbs, 
adverbs,  and  so  on,  were  made  reverential  by  prefixing  or  add- 
ing syllables,  or  both,  to  the  common  words.  Thus,  of  a  com- 
mon man,  they  said  yoli,  he  lives  ;  but  when  a  great  man  con- 
descended to  live,  it  was,  mo-yo-litia.  A  common  man  slept 
in  two  syllables,  cochi;  but  a  lord  or  priest  slumbered  more 
magnificently  in  five,  mo-coehi-tia.  When  a  common  man 
swallowed,  it  was  toloa ;  but  when  a  great  man  did  it,  it  was 
tololtia.  A  common  person  eat  in  a  monosyllable  Ka,  and  was 
perhaps  glad  to  get  that ;  but  a  great  man  required  two  more, 
Kaltia. 

Another  strange  peculiarity  of  this  language,  which  might 
have  been  employed  to  some  purpose  by  the  Woman's  Rights 
Convention,  was,  that,  in  speaking  of  the  natural  relations,  the 
women  were  not  allowed  to  use  the  same  terms  as  the  men. 

In  the  speech  of  the  Massachusetts  Indians,  the  agent,  the 
action,  and  that  which  is  affected  by  the  action,  —  the  doer, 
the  thing  done,  and  the  thing  or  person  done  to,  —  are  all 
comprised  in  the  verb.  Every  possible  mode  of  action  or  ex- 
istence combines  with  the  verb,  so  that  this  part  of  speech  is, 
in  a  peculiar  manner,  the  soul  of  these  languages.  Adjectives 
expressing  qualities  in  the  abstract  scarcely  occur;  but  they 
always  combine  with  other  forms  into  agglutinated  verbal 
masses,  so  as  to  express  the  quality  in  some  special  mode  of 
existence.  Take  for  instance  old.  One  combined  word  means 
old  people,  another  an  old  man,  another  an  old  woman,  an  old 
animal,  an  old  bird,  an  old  male  quadruped,  an  old  female  quad- 
ruped, and  so  on  to  infinity.  The  psychological  explanation 
of  these  peculiarities  is  the  fact,  that  the  Indian  tribes  had  not 
arrived  at  that  stage  of  reflection  in  which  abstract  conceptions 
formed  an  independent  and  considerable  part  of  their  ideas,  to 
be  combined  and  recombined  into  logical  series  of  thoughts. 
Their  languages  are  not  wanting  in  the  words,  but  the  words 
are  used  as  elements  to  combine  with  specific  relations.  This 
is  the  reason  why  they  have  no  substantive  verb.     They  wer« 


26  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

in  the  habit  of  employing,  not  the  idea  of  mere  existence,  but 
that  of  the  concrete  forms  of  existence.  They  spoke  of  standing 
here,  or  walking  there  ;  of  being  in  the  act  of  doing  this  or  that ; 
of  smoking  the  pipe,  or  hunting  the  deer,  or  scalping  the  enemy. 
These  peculiarities  of  combination  have  given  much  trouble  to 
translators  out  of  inflecting  languages,  which  are  so  largely 
made  up  of  abstract  terms  and  words  used  in  secondary  01 
metaphysical  senses.  Mr.  Duponceau  illustrates  this  by  an 
example  taken  from  a  translation  of  Luther's  Catechism  from 
the  Swedish  into  Delaware  Indian.  The  words  "  Gracious 
God "  are  rendered  Vinckan  Manitto ;  literally  sweet  Grod ; 
but  the  word  Vinckan  is  used  only  in  combination  with  eata- 
bles, so  that  the  Delawares  were  given  to  understand  that  the 
white  man's  God  was  something  good  to  eat,  —  which  is  too 
often  the  case. 

To  the  two  types  of  which  I  have  spoken  I  am  inclined,  as  I 
have  said,  to  add  a  third  ;  namely,  the  African.  The  mission- 
aries of  the  Gaboon  mission  in  Western  Africa  have  published 
an  excellent  grammar  of  the  Mpongwe  language,  with  vocabu- 
laries. This  represents  a  general  family  of  languages  occupy- 
ing the  southern  half  of  the  African  continent,  connected  as 
dialects  springing  from  one  common  origin.  It  is  a  singularly 
regular  language  in  its  formation,  and  peculiar  in  its  principles 
of  agglutination.  I  will  call  it  agglutination  by  assimilation 
and  repetition ;  and  to  illustrate  the  mode  by  which  these  prin- 
ciples are  carried  out,  I  will  cite  the  adjective  to  show  the 
assimilation,  and  the  verb  to  show  the  repetition.  The  adjec- 
tives are  few ;  and  they  have  no  case,  gender,  nor  degrees  of 
comparison.  Nouns  also  have  no  gender  nor  case  ;  but  these 
relations  are  expressed  by  adding  onomi,  man  or  male,  and 
nyanto,  woman  or  female;  as  onwana  onomi,  a  child-man  (boy)  ; 
onwana  nyanto,  a  child-woman  (girl).  In  the  parable  of 
the  prodigal  son,  the  fatted  calf  is  called  the  child-cow-fat. 
Nouns,  however,  are  arranged  into  four  classes,  according  as 
they  begin  with  a  consonant,  or  with  either  of  the  vowels, 
e  i  o :  and  the  same  adjective  takes  all  the  corresponding  forms 


CLASSIFICATION   OF   LANGUAGES.  27 

singular  and  plural,  assimilating  itself  to  the  different  classes 
of  nouns.  The  verb,  on  the  other  hand,  has  one  set  of  agglu- 
tins  ed    forms    to    express   five    modifications    of  action ;    as, 

1.  kamba,  to  speak;  2.  kambaga,  to  speak  frequently ;  3.  kam- 
biza,  to  cause  to  speak ;  4.  kambina,  to  speak  to  or  for  some 
one;  5.  kambagamba,  to  speak  at  random.  Then  six  more 
forms  are  made  by  repeating  these  simple  agglutinated  ones,  in 
combination ;  namely,  {kambaga  and  kambiza  united)  kam- 
bizaga,  to  cause  to  speak  frequently  ;  kambinaza,  from  kambina 
and  kambiza,,  to  cause  to  speak  in  behalf  of  some  one;  kam- 
binaga,  from  kambina  and  kambaga,  to  speak  to  some  one  fre- 
quently ;  kambagambiza,  from  kambagamba  and  kambiza,  to 
cause  to  speak  at  random;  and  kambagambaga,  from  kamba- 
gamba and  kambaga,  to  speak  at  random  frequently.  This  is 
what  I  mean  by  repetition. 

It  appears,  therefore,  that  we  do  not  exhaust  all  the  forms  of 
the  second  type  of  language  without  taking  into  the  account 
Asia,  America,  and  Africa  ;  and  that  strictly  speaking  they 
should  be  arranged  in  three  classes  :  —  1.  agglutination  by 
attachment,  the  characteristic  form  of  the  Asiatic  languages ; 

2.  agglutination  by  incorporation,  the  characteristic  form  of 
the  American  languages  ;  8.  agglutination  by  assimilation  and 
repetition,  the  characteristic  form  of  at  least  the  southern  half 
of  Africa. 

My  brief  sketch  of  the  lower  classes  of  languages,  and  the 
illustrations  I  have  adduced,  will  of  course  suggest  by  con- 
trast the  immense  advantages  on  the  side  of  the  inflecting 
languages.  In  the  first  place,  the  flexibility  and  clearness  of 
their  grammatical  forms  enables  them  to  express  with  the 
utmost  precision  all  the  shades  and  relations  of  thought,  and 
protects  them  against  the  necessary  ambiguity  of  the  monosyl- 
labic languages,  and  from  the  endless  complications  of  the 
agglutinating  and  incorporating  languages.  Then  their  parts 
of  speech  have  each  and  all  an  independent  existence,  with 
special  functions  and  well-established  relations  to  one  another. 
Finally,  they  are  susceptible  of  being  wrought  into  an  infinite 


28  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

variety  of  beautiful  forms  of  art ;  so  that  they  have  been  the 
great  instruments  of  civilization,  the  chief  organs  of  that  higher 
intellectual  life  which  crowns  our  existence  in  this  world  like 
a  radiant  glory. 

There  is  something  singular  in  the  geographical  distribution 
of  the  three  great  types.  The  monosyllabic  from  the  remotest 
times  has  nestled  in  the  southeastern  corner  of  Asia,  where  in 
China  it  has  attained  its  highest  development,  and  become 
the  organ  of  a  rich  and  extensive  literature.  The  agglutinat- 
ing extend  from  the  Deccan,  in  the  south  of  Hindostan,  fring- 
ing the  southern  shores  of  the  continent,  interrupted  by  the 
monosyllabic  Chinese,  reappearing  in  the  boundless  regions  of 
Central  and  Northern  Asia,  coasting  the  Frozen  Ocean  and 
reaching  Tibet  and  Caucasus,  crossing  the  Ural  Mountains  into 
European  Russia,  passing  into  Eastern  Europe,  where  an  iso- 
lated outpost,  the  Madgyar,  has  maintained  itself  for  ten  cen- 
turies, and  leaving  from  a  period  which  History  herself  has 
forgotten  to  record  a  solitary  monument  at  the  western  ex- 
tremity of  the  Pyrenees,  filling  up  the  whole  of  South  Africa, 
finally  passing  to  the  American  continent,  or  springing  up 
there  by  an  independent  creation,  and  spreading  almost  from 
the  North  Pole  to  the  South. 

The  inflecting  languages,  again,  occupy  an  extensive  zone, 
running  southeast  and  northwest,  from  the  Himalaya  and  the 
Ganges  to  the  western  shores  of  Europe.  In  Asia,  they 
extend  along  the  southern  slope  of  the  heaven-piercing  moun- 
tain range,  expanding  down  the  eastern  and  along  the  south- 
ern shores  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  Passing  into  Europe, 
they  divide  into  several  branches,  —  one  line  of  closely  related 
languages  holding  the  peninsulas  of  Greece  and  Italy ;  an- 
other penetrating  into  the  heart  of  Europe  by  the  Danube, 
and  so  reaching  the  northwestern  shores;  another  filling  the 
vast  regions  of  the  northeast,  —  the  kingdom  of  Poland  and 
the  empire  of  Russia.  These  are  the  languages  which,  start- 
ing from  a  common  source  in  the  Iranian  region  of  Asia,  have 
marched  east  and  west,  conquering  and  to  conquer,  supplant* 


CLASSIFICATION   OF   LANGUAGES  29 

mg  gradually  the  lower  types  of  speech,  by  which,  however, 
they  are  still  almost  surrounded,  embracing  in  their  compre- 
hensive genius  the  noblest  forms  of  art,  science,  history,  phi- 
losophy, poetry,  and  eloquence.  Midway  in  this  illustrious 
procession  the  Greek  language  holds  its  place ;  the  Sanscrit 
stands  at  one  extremity,  and  the  English  at  the  other. 

Two  or  three  general  questions  arise  upon  the  consideration 
of  the  three  great  types  of  language,  and  their  geographical 
distribution.  Were  the  races  speaking  them  endowed  from 
the  outset  with  diiferent  degrees  of  intellectual  faculty,  which 
fixed  unalterably  the  lines  of  structural  development  in  the 
forms  of  speech  ?  Did  the  languages  all  start  from  the  same 
point,  —  the  primitive  monosyllabic  type,  —  and  each  arrive  at 
a  predestined  result,  one  reaching  this  stage,  another  that,  and 
all  thereafter  remaining  permanently  moulded  ?  Or  were  there 
outward  influences  at  work,  whose  forces  we  have  no  means 
of  determining  with  precision  ? 

Whichever  may  have  been  the  case,  the  question  lies  be- 
yond the  limits  of  history,  and  I  do  not  think  that  philological 
science  is  yet  in  a  condition  to  render  a  conclusive  answer. 
But  it  seems  to  me  that  we  may  at  least  be  satisfied  of  this 
conclusion,  that  the  monosyllabic  type  of  speech  represents  the 
earliest  condition  of  speaking  man,  the  agglutinating  the 
second,  and  the  inflecting  the  third ;  and  if  the  world  has  been 
peopled  by  a  series  of  great  migrations  from  a  common  centre, 
these  migrations  may  be  divided  into  three  great  primeval 
periods.  The  first  took  place  when  language  was  in  its  least 
formed  state  ;  the  second,  when  language  had  reached  its 
second  stage  ;  and'  the  third  and  last,  when  language  had 
become  a  perfected  organism  for  the  expression  of  human 
thought.  The  earliest  primitive  ages  are  represented  by  the 
Chinese;  the  middle  primitive  ages  are  represented  by  the 
numerous  agglutinating  races  of  which  I  have  spoken  ;  and 
the  modern  primitive  ages  are  represented  by  the  nations  which 
belong  to  the  European  stock.  It  is  true,  our  received  chro- 
nologies are   not  comprehensive  enough  to  take  in  all  these 


30  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

great  epochs  ;  and  even  the  last  is  shown  by  unquestionable 
monuments  to  require  a  very  considerable  expansion  to  ac- 
commodate all  the  periods  of  its  historic  development. 

The  types  of  language  never  pass  into  one  another.  The 
monosyllabic  has  the  germs,  as  it  were,  of  the  next  higher 
order,  but  never  becomes  agglutinating ;  the  second  type  has 
the  germs  of  inflection,  but  never  becomes  inflecting.  Nor 
does  either  of  the  higher  types  fall  back  into  the  lower.  No 
inflecting  language  has  ever  become  agglutinating,  and  no 
agglutinating  language  has  ever  become  monosyllabic,  within 
historical  times.  There  was,  then,  behind  the  veil  that  always 
falls  between  the  beginnings  of  history  and  the  origins  of 
things,  a  formative  or  plastic  period,  during  which  the  higher 
primitive  languages  were  assuming  their  predetermined  types. 
Mr.  Schleicher  marks  off  two  great  periods,  the  ante-historical 
and  the  historical.  No  race  appears  on  the  stage  of  history 
until  it  has  completed  the  formation  of  its  language.  Then  it 
is  ready  to  take  its  place,  and  play  its  part  on  the  stage  of 
national  existence.  But  from  the  moment  it  enters  upon  the 
sphere  of  activity,  its  thought  is  withdrawn  from  words,  and 
occupied  with  facts  and  events.  Now  commences  a  reverse 
process  with  its  language.  Slowly  the  elaborate  grammatical 
forms  fall  away,  and  by  a  species  of  analysis,  or  logical  resolu- 
tion, the  same  relations  are  expressed  by  independent  words, 
—  by  prepositions,  auxiliary  verbs,  and  the  like.  This  is  illus- 
trated on  a  great  scale  by  comparing  the  Sanscrit,  which  pre- 
sents the  fullest  perfection  of  grammatical  forms,  and  geo- 
graphically stands  at  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  line,  with 
the  English,  which  stands  at  the  western  extremity,  and  has 
gone  farthest  in  the  process  of  analysis.  Here,  however,  the 
terms  of  comparison  are  drawn  from  opposite  extremes  in  time 
and  space.  On  a  more  limited  scale,  it  may  be  illustrated  by 
taking  the  middle  term,  —  the  Greek,  —  and  comparing  the 
Homeric  forms  with  the  later  Attic,  and  the  later  Attic  with 
the  Greek  of  the  present  moment.  The  changes  in  this  point 
of  view  are  striking.     The  same  thing  may  also  be  shown  bv 


CLASSIFICATION   OF   LANGUAGES.  31 

comparing  the  Gothic  with  the  German,  the  German  with  the 
Anglo-Saxon,  the  Anglo-Saxon  with  the  English.  In  all  these 
cases  the  process  of  analysis  has  been  steadily  going  on ;  but 
there  is  no  tendency  here  to  fall  back  into  the  agglutinating  or 
the  monosyllabic  types. 

I  have  thus  spoken  of  the  inflecting  as  the  only  proper  his- 
torical languages ;  and  I  have  briefly  described  the  course  of 
studies  in  comparative  philology,  by  which  their  true  relations 
and  affinities  with  one  another  have  been  established.  I  have 
also  shown  that  these  languages,  the  civilizations  which  have 
found  expression  in  them,  and  the  races  which  have  spoken 
and  still  speak  them,  represent  in  their  most  ancient  forms,  in 
their  earliest  histories,  and  in  their  very  first  traditional  wan- 
derings over  the  face  of  the  earth,  the  last  of  the  great  pri- 
meval revolutions  in  the  condition  of  man  as  a  speaking,  civil- 
izing, and  political  being. 


LECTURE    III. 

THE  INDO-EUROPEAN   LANGUAGES.  —  THE   ORIGIN   OF 
WRITING. 

In  my  last  Lecture,  I  spoke  of  the  three  great  types  of  lan- 
guage, and  their  geographical  distribution.  I  propose  now  tc 
trace  the  dispersion  of  the  Indo-European  race  and  its  inflect- 
ing type  of  language,  from  its  Iranian  centre. 

The  languages  of  this  class  are  not  to  be  regarded,  at  least 
in  their  primitive  form,  as  descended  from  each  other,  but  as 
allied  by  collateral  affinities,  which  bind  into  one  family  the 
numerous  languages  spoken  from  the  Ganges  to  the  western 
shores  of  Europe.  They  represent  a  series  of  migrations,  all 
belonging,  however,  to  the  third  and  last  period,  and  occupy- 
ing ages  which,  like  the  geological  epochs,  it  is  impossible  pre- 
cisely to  determine.  History,  tradition,  language,  all  point  to 
the  Iranian  region  of  Asia  as  the  centre  of  dispersion ;  and  the 
physical  form  of  the  earth's  surface,  in  the  parts  of  it  occupied 
by  these  races,  shows  in  all  directions  the  lines  of  march  they 
took  up,  as  well  as  the  controlling  causes  by  which  their  final 
settlements  were  decided.  The  lofty  mountains  guided  them 
east  and  west,  and  the  river  valleys  drew  them  south.  They 
poured  into  the  boundless  regions  of  the  Indus  and  the  Ganges, 
and  were  arrested  by  the  impassable  heights  of  the  Hima- 
layas. Southward  they  descended  into  the  valleys  of  the  Nile, 
the  Euphrates,  and  the  Tigris.  Westward  they  pushed  along 
he  table-land  of  Asia  Minor,  filling  up  its  shores  and  the 
eastern  end  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea ;  they  rounded  the 
Euxine,  through  the  Caucasian  passes ;  they  poured  into  the 
valley  of  the  Danube,  and  gradually  occupied  the  heart  of 
Europe.      Southward  they  descended   the    dividing  streams, 


THE   INDO-EUROPEAN   LANGUAGES.  3d 

through  the  Haemus  gate,  and,  blending  with  another  tide 
that  crossed  the  Hellespont,  occupied  the  Thracian,  Mace- 
donian, Thessalian,  and  Boeotian  plains,  pressed  on  Attica  and 
the  Peloponnesus,  and  filled  the  western  regions  of  Greece. 
Others  still,  moving  forward,  found  their  way  into  the  Italian 
peninsula ;  others  held  on  their  course,  until  they  reached  the 
west  of  Europe  and  were  stopped  by  the  Atlantic  shore.  Other 
mighty  waves  succeeded,  crowding  upon  those  that  had  gone 
before ;  and  others  after  them,  until  the  Indo-European  world 
was  fully  occupied  by  the  multiform  varieties  of  speech  and 
culture  which  these  great  families  of  nations  have  presented 
in  their  history.  If  we  start  from  the  Atlantic,  we  meet  as 
the  memorials  of  the  earliest  great  migrations,  —  first,  the  Cel- 
tic tongue  in  the  Armorican,  Erse,  Welsh,  and  Gaelic  dialects  ; 
next,  the  Gothic,  or  Germanic,  in  the  English,  Swedish,  Dan- 
ish, Dutch,  and  German ;  farther  south,  the  Pelasgic  pair,  the 
Latin  and  the  Greek,  with  their  modern  representatives;  then, 
passing  northerly  again,  by  the  side  of  the  Gothic,  the  widely 
extended  Slavonic.  Crossing  the  Hellespont,  we  discern  traces 
of  kindred  languages  in  Asia  Minor ;  turning  southward,  we 
have  the  Phoenician,  the  Hebrew,  the  Himyai'itic,  the  Egyp- 
tian, which  has  at  last  been  added  to  the  Semitic  stock ;  east- 
ward again,  the  Babylonian,  Assyrian,  Median,  Persian,  Zend  ; 
and  finally,  the  Sanscrit  and  its  cognate  forms,  which  bring  us 
once  more  to  the  Himalayas.  Here  are  brought  almost  into 
each  other's  presence  strangely  contrasted  types  of  language, 
and  types  of  race  ;  —  the  monosyllabic  Chinese,  meagre,  unin- 
flected ;  the  Sanscrit,  with  its  richly  unfolded  forms  and  its 
boundless  wealth  of  expression. 

It  takes  but  a  few  moments  to  tell  in  outline  this  traveller's 
story ;  but  how  many  ages  does  it  subtend,  and  what  endless 
varieties  of  adventure  marked  the  wanderings  of  these  pri- 
meval pilgrim-nations  of  the  world !  Their  line  of  march  has 
been  interrupted  from  time  to  time,  through  all  history,  by 
vigorous  assaults  made  by  the  ^ther  races  dashing  down  upon 
them  from  the  north  through  the  mountain  passes.     They  have 


34  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

been  engaged  in  almost  incessant  warfare  among .  themselves. 
And  so,  fighting  or  struggling  with  hordes  of  invaders,  strug- 
gling too  with  one  another  for  temporary  mastery,  thev  have 
built  up  and  overthrown  mighty  empires,  they  have  tmfoldea 
and  destroyed  widely  extended,  various,  and  beautiful  civiliza- 
tions ;  but  yet  the  work  of  culture  and  humanity  has  been 
slowly  and  constantly  advancing  with  every  new  combination 
of  political  strength,  language,  art,  and  poetry. 

We  have,  then,  the  Indo-European  stock,  representing  the 
spoken  thought  of  these  nations,  ranging  through  the  whole 
extent  of  recorded  history,  and  bound  together  by  the  twofold 
affinities  of  similarity  of  verbal  roots  and  identity  of  grammatical 
structure.  Those  which  stand  in  the  direct  line,  southeast  and 
northwest,  are  more  nearly  allied  than  the  collateral  branches, 
although  more  widely  separated  in  space  and  time.  The  San- 
scrit and  the  Greek  are  much  more  alike  than  the  Greek  and 
Hebrew,  or  any  other  two  languages,  either  of  which  lies  out 
of  the  line  of  migration.  The  first  generalization,  it  is  true, 
took  in  only  the  Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew,  and  one  or  two  more 
so-called  Oriental  tongues ;  but  as  knowledge  increased,  the 
direct  relationship  between  these  was  given  up,  and  the  Indo- 
Germanic  group  formed  the  next  and  more  philosophical  gener- 
alization. The  third  still  more  general  view  comprehended  the 
languages  of  the  Semitic  offshoot,  to  which  recently  have  been 
added  the  dialects  spoken  by  the  Babylonians,  Assyrians,  later 
Persians,  and  still  more  recently  by  the  investigations  of  Egyp- 
tian scholars,  especially  the  grammatical  researches  of  Bunsen, 
the  ancient  sacred  language  of  the  Pharaohs  themselves.  And 
anally,  the  Celtic  dialects  of  Western  Europe,  once  supposed  to 
have  no  affinities  with  the  other  European  tongues,  have  been 
introduced,  upon  unquestionable  documentary  proofs  of  relation 
ship,  into  this  great  family.  The  Celts,  as  I  have  already  said, 
represent  the  first  great  wave  of  migration  that  reached  the 
Atlantic,  in  the  northernmost  of  the  two  divided  European  lines. 
The  Egyptians  represent  the  first  offshoot,  at  right  angles  from 
the  mam  advancing  Asiatic  column.    The  Phoenicians,  Syrians, 


THE   INDO-EUROPEAN   LANGUAGES.  36 

Hebrews,  and  Babylonians  belong  to  a  subsequent  series  of 
deviating  lines.  The  Egyptian  language  stood  at  a  lower 
stage  of  structural  organism  than  the  Phoenician  and  the  He- 
brew ;  and  these  again  stood  at  a  lower  stage  than  the  old 
Sanscrit,  Zend,  Greek,  Latin,  and  Gothic.  These  languages, 
in  their  more  or  less  full  development  of  principles  lying  at  the 
common  foundation  of  them  all,  give  us  some  approximation  to 
a  correct  view  of  the  chronological  order  according  to  which 
they  assumed  their  several  subordinate  varieties  of  type. 

Through  these  languages  there  run  many  words  identical 
in  root,  and  often  identical  in  form.  I  have  already  given 
.some  illustrations  of  the  danger  of  making  hasty  inferences 
from  this  class  of  resemblances.  No  one  would  be  justified  in 
asserting  an  affinity  between  the  Mpongwe  and  the  Greek,  be- 
cause polu  means  great  in  one  and  much  in  the  other ;  or 
because  the  verbal  termination  iza  gives  a  causative  significa- 
tion to  the  verb  in  the  one,  while  CCp  has  the  same  effect  on  a 
few  verbs  in  the  other.  But  when  we  find  those  words  which 
are  of  prime  necessity  in  all  nations;  —  those  which  express  the 
natural  relations,  as  father,  mother,  sister,  brother,  son  ;  or 
numerals,  which  must  everywhere  have  been  among  the  first 
words  in  use  ;  or  the  simplest  actions,  such  as  to  give,  to 
know  ;  or  the  names  of  the  animals  which  everywhere  minister 
to  the  wants  of  man  ;  or  the  connecting  particles  which  bind 
the  parts  of  sentences  together  ;  or  the  names  of  the  most 
striking  objects  in  nature,  as  the  stars,  or  the  parts  of  the 
human  body ;  —  when  we  find  these  classes  to  a  considerable 
degree  identical,  with  only  such  variations  as  the  laws  of  the 
conversion  of  sound  require  in  passing  from  one  to  the  other, 
we  must  suppose  an  intimate  relation  at  some  remote  period  of 
time.  And  if,  in  addition  to  this,  we  find  the  conjugations  and 
declensions  the  same,  with  such  changes  alone  as  arise  from 
appreciable  causes ;  if  we  find  exactly  the  same  modes  of  ex- 
pressing the  relations  of  time,  —  exactly  the  same  modes  of 
marking  tht  agreement  of  adjectives  with  substantives  in 
gender,  number,  and  case ;  and  so  on  through  all  other  gram- 


36  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

matical  inflections;  —  the  probability  before  established  amounts 
to  a  demonstration,  —  the  conclusion  is  just  as  certain  as  an\* 
result  in  physical  science.  Such,  in  fact,  are  the  relation? 
among  the  languages  now  under  consideration.  Nearly  all 
the  personal  pronouns  are  the  same  from  the  Ganges  to  the 
Atlantic  Ocean.  The  numerals  are  the  same.  The  word  two, 
for  example,  is  in  Sanscrit  dux  or  dwaja;  in  Persian,  du;  in 
Greek,  hvo ;  in  Latin,  duo ;  in  Gothic,  twa ;  in  the  Old  Ger- 
man, tue;  in  German,  zwei;  in  Anglo-Saxon,  twa  ;  in  Dutch, 
twee;  in  Danish,  to;  in  Icelandic,  tvo; — and  so  on  through  the 
languages  of  the  South  of  Europe.  Take  for  an  example  the 
preposition  over;  it  runs  through  the  same  line,  ufar,  tnrep,  sil- 
ver, ober,  iiber,  ofer,  over.  Take  again  the  word  name,  —  nama, 
ovofia,  nomen,  nam,  nom,  naam,  navn,  name.  Thus,  too,  we 
have  in  the  same  sense,  in  Sanscrit,  Pita;  in  Greek,  Tlarr^p; 
in  Latin,  Pater;  in  German,  Voter;  in  Danish,  Fader;  in 
Dutch,  Vader  ;  in  Anglo-Saxon,  Feeder  ;  it.  English,  Father  ;  — 
also  in  Sanscrit,  Mata ;  in  Greek,  MrjTrjp ;  in  Latin,  Mater; 
in  German,  Mutter;  in  Anglo-Saxon,  Modor ;  in  Erse,  Ma- 
ihair  ;  in  English,  Mother.  So  is  it  with  brother,  sister,  and  the 
like.  Sometimes  the  line  is  broken  in  one  language,  and  re- 
appears in  the  next,  the  wanting  link  being  supplied  from  some 
other  source,  because  the  true  etymological  word  has  been  ac- 
cidentally lost  or  employed  in  another  sense.  Thus  (pparrip 
in  Greek  means,  not  brother,  as  its  representative  does  in  San- 
scrit and  the  other  languages,  but  it  expresses  a  more  distant 
relationship,  —  another  term  derived  from  the  common  tie  on 
the  mother's  side,  d8e\<f>6<;,  being  made  to  take  its  place. 

Perhaps  these  examples  will  be  sufficient  to  illustrate  this 
class  of  relations.  The  number  of  words  which  have  been 
traced  in  this  manner,  through  the  whole  or  part  of  the  series, 
is  about  a  thousand.  In  the  ordinary  intercourse  of  life  we 
use  scarcely  double  this  number ;  in  the  early  stages  o** 
society,  a  thousand  words  would  be  a  reasonable  supply  tv 
express  the  simplest  class  of  ideas. 

The  grammatical  affinities  are  still  more  conclusive.     Thosi 


THE   INDO-EUROPEAN   LANGUAGES.  37 

Detween  the  Sanscrit  and  the  Greek  are  so  minute  and  exten- 
sive, that  some  knowledge  of  the  former  is  now  held  to  be 
necessary  for  the  complete  illustration  of  the  latter.  Many 
irregular  forms  of  the  Greek  can  be  explained  only  from  the 
Sanscrit,  where  they  occur  as  parts  of  a  regular  whole  that  ha? 
not  been  retained  in  the  Greek.  The  meaning  and  construc- 
tion of  cases  in  Greek  are  placed  in  a  clearer  light  by  compar- 
ing them  with  the  more  richly  unfolded  declension  of  the 
Sanscrit  noun ;  the  several  meanings  of  a  case  in  the  former 
having  each  its  appropriate  and  independent  form  in  the  latter. 
Most  remarkable  of  all,  it  has  been  recently  placed  beyond  a 
doubt,  that  the  Sanscrit  system  of  accentuation  is  identical  with 
that  of  the  Greek,  and  that  its  principles  were  discussed  and  set- 
tled by  Sanscrit  grammarians  two  centuries  before  the  time  of 
Aristophanes,  the  Greek  grammarian  to  whom  the  first  sys- 
tematic treatment  of  the  subject  has  been  attributed,  —  a  strong 
proof  how  vital  the  accentuation  was,  and  how  important  it  is 
to  a  just  appreciation  of  the  Greek  as  a  living  language. 

The  points  of  illustration  might  be  greatly  multiplied,  but 
these  must  suffice.  The  Sanscrit  is  not  only  more  copious  in 
grammatical  forms  than  the  Greek  or  any  other  tongue,  but 
more  regularly  derived  throughout  from  roots  within  the 
language  itself;  and  the  reason  of  this  is,  that  the  people 
speaking  it  were  earlier  settled  in  their  preappointed  habita- 
tions, passed  through  a  less  interrupted  development,  and  were 
exposed  to  fewer  invasions  from  abroad,  than  their  westward- 
marching  brethren.  Besides  this,  when  they  first  moulded 
their  social  and  political  organizations,  they  introduced  into 
their  fundamental  institutions  certain  principles  of  permanence, 
which  gave  such  durability  to  their  legislative  and  religious 
system,  that  it  has  undergone  few  and  slight  changes,  except 
a  single  great  religious  schism,  for  more  than  four  thousand 
years.  On  the  contrary,  struggles,  wanderings,  revolutions, 
displacements,  migrations,  marked  unceasingly  the  fortunes  of 
the  many-titled  tribes,  which,  after  ages  of  suffering  and  con- 
flict, laid  tlie  foundation  of  the  Pelasgic  states   and   plantrd 


38  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

the  germs  of  Hellenic  culture.  The  incomers  by  'and  wer* 
blended  on  the  margin  of  the  JEgean  Sea  with  the  wanderers 
over  the  deep,  bringing  with  them  other  styles  of  thought, 
other  forms  of  speech,  other  modes  of  action.  Thus,  while 
the  Hellenic  character  grew  up  among  the  stormy  conflicts  of 
sea  and  land,  the  language,  too,  lost  that  mechanical  regularity 
of  structure  which  marked  its  elder  sister.  So  much  the  better 
for  it,  as  the  destined  organ  of  Hellenic  genius  yet  to  come. 
A  language  is  all  the  worse  for  monotonous  regularity.  Not- 
withstanding the  eulogy  of  the  missionaries  upon  the  language 
of  the  dwellers  on  the  Gaboon,  as  "  so  beautiful  and  so  philo- 
sophical in  all  its  arrangements,"  it  is  still  the  language  of  a 
barbarous  tribe.  The  manifold  experiences  of  the  Greeks, 
the  infinite  range  of  their  plastic  imagination,  and  their  large 
intercourse  with  related  nations  in  the  East,  stamped  themselves 
upon  their  forms  of  speech,  and  gradually  wrought  out  of  its 
fine  and  delicate  materials  the  most  flexible  and  transparent 
body  in  which  human  thought  has  ever  been  clothed. 

How  has  our  English  speech  been  enriched  by  the  like  ex- 
perience !  Placed  at  the  outpost  of  this  long  line,  it  has  been 
moulded  and  remoulded  by  every  successive  wave  of  language 
that  swept  upon  it.  Celtic,  Roman,  German,  under  many 
forms,  first  from  the  incessant  Northern  stream,  then  from  the 
conquering  advance  of  the  Southern  tide,  have  each  and  all 
brought  to  it  their  argosies  of  thought-conveying  words,  and 
helped  to  make  it  the  mighty  tongue  it  is.  We  talk  of  Anglo- 
Saxons,  and  write  sounding  paragraphs  in  popular  speeches 
about  the  great  things  they  are  doing  all  over  the  world.  Car- 
dinal Hughes,  on  the  other  hand,  abuses  them  in  good  set 
terms.  Praise  and  abuse  may  both  alike  be  spared ;  for  no 
Anglo-Saxon  now  lives  upon  the  surface  of  the  earth.  They 
did  their  share  in  building  up  our  English  language ;  but  the 
present  rage  for  Saxondom  is  a  pedant's  dream.  Saxon  is  but 
one  of  many  elements  out  of  which  the  fine  felicity  of  out 
'uriously  interblended  language  has  resulted,  through  the  all 
harmonizing  and  all-uniting  spirit  of  time  and  human  activity 


THE   INDO-EUROPEAN  LANGUAGES.  89 

Let  us  see  what  benefits  the  English  language  has  enjoyed 
from  its  position  at  the  confluence  of  so  many  streams,  by  a 
single  class  of  examples.  Take  the  words  father,  brother, 
daughter,  and  their  derivatives.  These  all  come  from  the 
Northern  stock,  which  by  fixed  laws  of  the  conversion  of  sound 
have  changed  the  initial  consonant  of  the  Sanscrit  and  the 
Greek;  and  from  them  we  have  fatherly,  brotherly,  daughterly, 
to  express  the  affections  which  those  relations  involve.  But 
in  the  Southern  languages  of  Greek  and  Roman  descent  the 
earliest  forms  have  been  preserved,  and  from  them  we  have 
paternal,  fraternal,  JUial,  to  express  the  relations  themselves. 
There  is  no  end  to  the  varied  wealth  of  speech  which  our  lan- 
guage has  gathered  in  from  so  many  sources. 

The  so-called  confusion  of  tongues  has  often  been  bewailed 
as  a  great  calamity.  But  variety  is  the  condition  of  intellect- 
ual progress.  Imagine  the  possibility  of  a  universal  language. 
We  must  then  have  had  one  of  two  things.  Either  one  monot- 
onous style  of  thought  would  have  prevailed  all  over  the  world, 
without  local  coloring  or  national  idiom ;  or  else  the  language 
would  have  become  so  vast  in  the  extent  of  its  vocabulary  and 
the  variety  of  its  forms  that  no  human  being  could  have  mas- 
tered it.  There  would  have  been  no  standard  of  style  or  taste, 
no  literature  in  any  high  sense  of  the  word.  All  vigor  of 
thought  would  have  been  drowned  in  a  wishy-washy  ocean 
of  fluctuating  verbiage. 

Providence  arranges  these  things  better.  Now,  wherever 
there  has  been  a  civilized  nation,  it  has  had  a  language  fitted 
to  be  its  organ ;  it  has  set  up  its  standards  of  taste ;  it  has 
formed  its  classic  style.  Instead  of  having  no  standards  of 
literature,  we  now  have  as  many  literatures,  wrought  into 
the  highest  forms  of  taste  and  art,  as  there  have  been  civ- 
ilized nations  and  languages.  Thus  the  intellectual  treasures 
of  the  world  have  been  multiplied,  just  in  proportion  to  the 
number  of  finished  and  classical  languages  that  have  been 
created  for  the  use  of  man. 

Allow  me  to  call  vour  attention  for  a  moment  to  another 


40  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

general  top:e,  which  has  important  bearings  upon  some  great 
questions  relating  to  classical  literature,  and  even,  it  may  be, 
upon  the  views  we  are  to  entertain  with  regard  to  the  sacred 
writings.  The  art  of  writing  is  so  commonplace,  that  we  lose 
all  sense  of  its  extraordinary  character.  Yet  how  much  of 
vain  experiment,  how  many  ineffectual  efforts,  must  have  been 
made,  before  the  completion  of  the  refined  analysis  on  which 
this  second  miracle  of  human  genius  rests !  We  know  well 
enough  whence  all  the  existing  nations  received  this  precious 
inheritance ;  but  who  invented  it  ?  What  mortal  first  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  imprisoning  sound  in  sign,  and  making  both 
the  carriers  of  thought  to  the  end  of  the  world  ? 

Dogberry  said,  "  To  be  a  well-favored  man  is  the  gift  of  for- 
tune ;  but  to  write  and  read  comes  by  nature."  Pliny  affirms 
that  the  use  of  letters  is  from  all  eternity.  Strabo  says  that  the 
Iberians  had  written  laws,  in  verse,  six  thousand  years  before 
his  time.  Epigenes  asserts  that  the  Assyrians  possessed  the 
alphabet  seven  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  years  before  his 
time.  The  common  statement  of  the  Greeks  was,  that  Cadmus 
the  Phoenician  brought  letters  into  Greece,  and  the  approximate 
date  assigned  to  that  event  is  about  1500  B.  C.  The  Egyptians 
assigned  the  invention  to  the  god  Theuth,  or  Thoth.  In  the 
Prometheus  Bound  of  ^Eschylus,  Prometheus  claims  the  inven- 
tion for  himself.  All  the  European,  most  of  the  Asiatic,  and 
some  of  the  African  nations,  appear  in  history  bringing  with 
them  the  art  in  some  form  or  other,  from  the  dark  times  beyond. 
On  this  continent,  the  Mexicans  and  Peruvians  i  were  found  to 
have  invented  a  peculiar  system,  which  answered  to  some  ex- 
tent the  purposes  of  historical  annals  and  distant  communica- 
tion ;  and  Mr.  Schoolcraft  has  shown  that  many  of  the  North- 
ern tribes  had  invented  ingenious  systems  of  record,  and  even 
a  set  of  mnemonic  signs,  by  which  the  words  of  popular  songs, 
once  learned,  could  be  recalled  to  the  memory.  Nowhere  can 
we  trace  any  doubt  amongst  the  ancients  that  the  art  is  coeva/ 
with  the  formation  of  society;  nowhere  is  it  alluded  to  as 
newly  invented  or  recently  introduced.     Yet,  notwithstanding 


THE   ORIGIN   OF   WRITING.  41 

this  striking  fact,  modern  criticism  has  not  scrupled  to  draw 
the  most  sweeping  conclusions  as  to  the  form  and  nature  of 
early  literary  compositions,  on  the  air-built  hypothesis  that  the 
use  of  writing  was  not  known  in  the  ages  when  those  composi- 
tions originated.  On  this  point  I  shall  have  something  more 
to  say,  in  speaking  of  Homer ;  at  present  I  desire  briefly  to 
examine  the  facts  which  must  be  the  basis  of  all  argument 
upon  the  subject. 

If  we  try  to  picture  to  ourselves  the  man  who  conceived  the 
idea  of  representing  things  by  signs,  we  shall  undoubtedly 
come  to  the  conclusion,  that  the  first  step  he  took  was  to  make 
a  picture  of  the  object,  or  a  delineation  of  the  scene,  to  be  put 
on  record.  This  mode  answers  well  for  large  classes  of  objects, 
conveying  ideas  independently  of  time.  Suppose  that  the  time- 
element  next  enters,  and  he  desires  to  say  that  morning,  noon, 
or  night  was  the  time  when  the  pictured  scene  occurred,  how 
shall  this  be  expressed  ?  The  figure  of  the  rising,  midday,  or 
setting  sun,  or  of  the  moon,  would  naturally  come  to  his  aid. 
The  idea  of  light  in  general,  by  a  further  movement  in  the 
same  direction,  would  be  conveyed  by  the  images  of  the  sun 
and  moon.  Again,  a  physical  quality  is  to  be  expressed,  as 
strength.  The  lion  is  the  strongest  of  animals,  and  a  rude  out- 
line of  him  would  readily  convey  the  idea.  A  moral  quality 
would  be  conveyed  by  a  similar  analogy.  He  has  now  ad- 
vanced a  long  distance.  He  can  communicate  numerous  ideas, 
by  representations,  partly  direct  and  partly  indirect,  of  the 
ideas  themselves.  In  short,  he  has  invented  an  ideographic 
system  of  writing. 

But  the  imperfection  of  this  method  of  intercommunication 
would  not  long  remain  unnoticed.  The  direct  picture  of 
course  suggests  the  name,  that  is,  the  sound  of  the  name,  of  the 
object  itself.  Here  lies  the  first  germ  of  phonetic  representa- 
tion, so  that  the  next  step  is  to  combine  pictures  suggestive  of 
words,  with  the  symbolical  pictures  suggestive  of  qualities  or 
acts.  Here  we  have  writing  composed  of  two  elements,  vocal 
and  ideal.     Pursuing  the  same  course,  it  is  next  found  that  a 


42  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

picture  may  represent  the  principal  sound  in  the  name  of  th<» 
object ;  and,  as  in  a  primitive  language  this  is  likely  to  be  the 
initial  sound,  the  picture  finally  stands  for  the  first  sound  in  the 
name  of  the  object.  Here  has  already  begun  the  analysis  of 
words  into  their  elementary  sounds  ;  and  it  appears  that  every 
spoken  word  consists  of  a  certain  number  of  these,  and  that 
each  of  these  is  the  initial  sound  of  some  other  word  or  name 
of  an  object,  and  may  therefore  be  represented  by  the  figure 
of  that  object.  Here  we  have  in  fact  an  alphabet.  This  would 
not,  indeed,  be  universally  applied,  because  the  other  methods 
are  already  established ;  but  certain  classes  of  terms — names  of 
places  and  of  men  —  would  at  once  be  written  out  phonetically : 
and,  as  many  names  of  objects  begin  with  the  same  sound,  in 
the  course  of  time  there  would  be  a  large  range  for  selection. 
Suppose,  for  instance,  it  were  proposed  to  write  the  name  of 
Boston,  with  the  means  we  have  now  at  hand.  The  figure  of  a 
bow  would  be  the  initial,  which  has  the  additional  recommenda- 
tion of  representing  the  original  inhabitants ;  an  oyster  would 
convey  the  second  sound,  and  no  unpleasant  association  with 
it ;  a  school-house,  the  pride  of  the  city,  would  give  the  third ; 
a  tile,  the  fourth  ;  an  orange,  symbolical  of  commerce  with  the 
tropics,  the  fifth  ;  and  the  nib  of  a  pen,  significant  of  literature, 
the  last. 

But  this  is  a  troublesome  mode  of  writing.  Not  all  men  can 
make  pictures  easy  to  be  recognized.  An  outline  is  soon  sub- 
stituted, and  then  a  simple  mark,  or  combination  of  marks,  for 
the  figure  representing  the  idea  or  the  sound.  We  have,  then, 
three  natural  stages,  well  defined,  in  the  progress  of  this  art : 
1.  the  pictorial  representation  of  words,  of  ideas,  of  simple 
sounds  ;  2.  the  outline  representation  of  the  same  ;  and  3.  the 
representation  of  the  same  by  simple  marks  and  combinations 
of  marks.  Each  of  the  earlier  nations  has  the  alphabetic  ele- 
ment blended  with  the  other  two.  This  blending  will  continue 
until  some  great  practical  want  suggests  the  next  step,  namely 
freeing  the  alphabetical  element  of  writing  from  the  others,  and 
constituting  a  purely  phonetic  system  of  signs  of  a  convenient 


THE   ORIGIN   OF   WRITING.  48 

form,  representing  the  simplest  elements  of  sound.  It  is  nei- 
ther to  be  expected  noi  desired  that  any  alphabet  should  ex- 
hibit sounds  precisely  as  they  are.  Pronunciation,  like  ever}' 
other  part  of  language,  changes  with  time,  place,  and  climate ; 
and  to  chain  so  fugitive  and  fluctuating  an  element  to  visible 
forms  is  beyond  the  power  of  man.  But  alphabets  originally 
gave  the  prevailing  sounds  of  the  languages  for  which  they 
were  made,  when  they  were  made,  and  in  the  places  where 
they  were  made. 

This  sketch  sounds  like  a  mere  theory,  —  a  natural  one,  it 
must  be  admitted.  Yet  the  written  systems  of  Egypt  and  China 
show  that  such  was  the  course  which  the  invention  actually 
followed.  One  remark,  however,  should  here  be  made.  It  is 
only  languages  of  the  two  higher  types,  strictly  speaking^  that 
are  susceptible  of  being  alphabetically  represented.  Take  the 
Chinese,  —  the  most  advanced  specimen  of  a  monosyllabic  lan- 
guage. The  number  of  independent  words  must  be  extremely 
limited,  because  the  number  of  possible  combinations  of  sound 
in  monosyllables  is  limited.  The  roots  in  the  Chinese,  in  fact, 
are  only  four  hundred  and  fifty  monosyllables.  This  number 
is  quadrupled  by  sing-song  tones,  four  in  number,  in  which 
they  are  pronounced,  making,  however,  less  than  two  thou- 
sand words  for  the  entire  stock  of  articulations  with  which  the 
language  is  furnished.  Another  fact  follows  directly  from  this, 
namely,  that  every  word  must  be  used  in  a  great  variety  of 
senses.  This  is  the  case  with  the  Chinese  monosyllables,  the 
number  of  significations  belonging  to  a  single  word  sometimes 
amounting  to  thirty  or  forty.  The  sounds  of  these  words  are 
indistinctly  articulated  ;  consonant,  vowel,  and  nasal  run  into 
the  pronunciation  so  curiously,  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  repre- 
sent them  by  alphabetic  characters.  Of  this  any  one  may  con- 
vince himself  by  listening  for  a  single  moment  to  a  Chinese 
talking  or  reading.  But  if  this  were  not  the  case,  if  every 
word  could  be  precisely  written  out  in  a  Western  alphabet,  it 
would  be  impossible  to  read  three  sentences  intelligibly ;  it 
would  be  impossible  to  decide  which  out  of  the  twenty  or  thirty 


44  THE   GREEK    LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

meanings  of  each  word  was  the  right  one  for  the  particular 
place.  Written  language  would  have  all  the  ambiguity  of 
spoken  language,  and  none  of  the  means  a  speaker  has  of  re- 
moving it.  Here,  then,  lies  the  insuperable  obstacle  to  reduc- 
ing a  language  of  this  type  to  proper  alphabetic  writing ;  and 
this  is  the  answer  to  the  question  so  often  asked,  why  the  C\  i- 
nese,  with  so  much  of  intelligence  and  civilization  as  they  pos- 
sess, have  not  long  since  abandoned  the  cumbrous  system  of 
writing  which  makes  their  language  such  an  inscru table  puzzle. 
The  invention  of  written  characters  in  China  is  referred  by 
the  Chinese  to  the  remotest  antiquity,  when  Fu-hi  governed 
the  world.  By  some  the  date  of  this  semi-fabulous  monarch's 
reign  has  been  placed  about  3400  B.  C.  The  Chinese  legend 
says  that,  looking  up  to  heaven,  he  saw  figures  traced  in  the 
sky ;  and  casting  his  eyes  down  upon  the  earth,  he  saw  modeis 
for  imitation  there,  —  the  forms  of  birds,  of  trees,  of  animals,  of 
mountains,  lakes,  and  rivers ;  so  that  heaven  and  earth  united 
to  furnish  the  harmonious  system,  which  took  the  place  of  the 
more  ancient  communication  by  knotted  cords.  The  first  Chi- 
nese signs  were  pictures,  as  we  have  seen  in  our  theoretical 
view.  The  figures  of  the  sun  and  moon,  of  mountains  and 
animals,  represented  the  objects  themselves.  Next  they  were 
combined  to  express  ideas  indirectly  or  symbolically.  Thus 
the  sun  and  moon  together  represented  light ;  the  figure  of  a 
man  stretched  very  uncomfortably  across  the  top  of  a  moun- 
tain signified  a  hermit ;  the  figure  of  an  eye,  with  running 
water,  signified  tears  ;  the  figure  of  a  woman,  with  a  broom 
in  her  hand,  signified  a  matron.  But  the  direct  representa- 
tions soon  gave  way  to  others,  in  which  the  pictorial  principle 
was  scarcely  traceable,  and  finally  disappeared  almost  alto- 
gether. The  existing  system  of  writing  embodies  the  toil  :f 
ages,  and  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  monuments  of  pa- 
tient industry  and  refined  analytic  skill  that  record  the  labors 
of  man.  The  number  of  written  characters,  like  the  number 
of  spoken  words  in  other  languages,  is  variously  stated.  Tht 
dictionaries  ordinarily  contain  about  forty  or  fifty  thousand 


THE   ORIGIN   OF  WRITING. 

ime  of  the  native  dictionaries,  however,  is  said  to  contain  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  It  is  frequently  stated  that  this 
system  is  ideographic  throughout,  that  is,  that  it  conveys  ideas 
directly,  and  not  through  the  medium  of  sound.  Air.  Dupon- 
ceau  and  Mr.  Pickering  have  shown  that  this  cannot  be  the  case 
to  the  full  extent  of  the  assertion ;  were  it  so,  the  Chinese  them- 
selves would  read  the  same  written  text  into  different  words, 
and  there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  poetical  composition  de- 
pending on  some  particular  rhythm  or  similarity  of  sound. 
Every  written  character  is  uniformly  read  into  the  same  pho- 
netic utterance  ;  but  the  ambiguities  of  the  spoken  language  are 
avoided  in  the  following  manner.  Each  syllable  or  word  has, 
in  the  first  place,  a  considerable  number  of  characters,  made 
up  originally  of  different  elements,  and  so  having  doubtless  in 
themselves  different  significations.  Practically,  each  of  these 
homophones  may  be  used  for  the  word,  in  whatever  sense  that 
word  may  be  employed ;  and  if  this  were  all,  the  written  lan- 
guage would  be  like  the  spoken,  a  series  of  ingenious  puzzles. 
But  the  characters  as  actually  written  consist  not  only  of  this 
phonetic  part  which  determines  the  sound  of  the  word ;  but 
there  is  joined  closely  to  this  another  character  which  has  no 
sound  at  all,  but  represents  an  idea  only.  There  are,  therefore, 
in  each  sign  a  phonetic  element  and  an  ideographic  element. 
For  example,  the  character  Tsehen,  by  itself,  means  ship;  but 
the  same  word  as  spoken  has  a  great  many  other  meanings,  and 
the  special  meaning  which  it  has  in  any  particular  connection  is 
determined  by  the  ideographic  sign  annexed.  Among  its  mean- 
ings are,  besides  ship,  water-brook,  the  pole  of  a  wagon,  plume, 
arrow.  Suppose  it  is  to  be  used  in  the  sense  of  water-brook. 
If  spoken,  it  would  be  ambiguous ;  if  written,  this  sign  would 
give  the  phonetic  element,  but  there  would  be  added  to  it  an- 
other, pronounced  shut,  and  meaning  xoater,  —  not  spoken  in 
this  combination,  but  showing  that  Tschen  is  used  in  that  par- 
ticular meaning  which  has  reference  to  water ;  that  is,  brook. 
These  ideographic  signs,  called  clefs  or  keys,  represent  whole 
classes  of  ideas,  and  are  two  hundred  and  fourteen  in  number. 


46  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

I  believe  that  the  peculiarities  of  the  Chinese  graphic  system 
are  sufficiently  apparent  from  this  slight  sketch.  It  will  be 
seen  how  this  complicated  contrivance  remedies  the  imperfec- 
tions of  uttered  speech,  and  why  it  would  be  impossible  for  the 
Chinese  to  abandon  it  for  any  strictly  alphabetical  character. 
It  will  also  appear  why  the  Chinese  scholars  think  so  much 
more  of  their  written  than  of  their  spoken  language  ;  why  .Chi- 
nese education  consists  chiefly  in  mastering  its  principles  and 
details.  A  fair  business  education  embraces  a  knowledge  of 
about  two  thousand  characters,  with  a  ready  skill  in  writing 
them  ;  a  good  literary  education  might  extend  to  ten  thousand, 
and  only  men  of  extraordinary  learning  attain  to  twenty  thou- 
sand. In  China,  more  than  anywhere  else,  a  literary  man  is 
literally  a  man  of  letters. 

The  inflecting  languages,  and  many  of  the  agglutinating, 
have  from  the  earliest  times  taken  the  last  step  indicated  in 
the  theoretical  view.  They  have  analyzed  words  into  their 
simplest  elements  of  sound,  and  represented  these  by  a  lim- 
ited number  of  signs,  which,  being  combined  and  recombined, 
have  offered  to  the  eye  all  the  words  in  all  these  languages, 
with  as  little  ambiguity  or  complication  as  the  words  them- 
selves present  to  the  ear.  This  invention  Mr.  Erro  claims  for 
the  Biscayan  language,  and  carries  it  back  to  Adam,  by  a 
process  of  reasoning  similar  to  that  by  which  he  proves  the 
Adamitic  antiquity  of  the  language  itself.  Adam  knew  by 
inspiration,  or  rather  intuition,  that  the  sound  a  signified  vast 
extent;  he  gave  it  a  name,  alfa,  which  has  that  meaning;  he 
took  a  rod  and  traced  that  meaning  in  the  sand  by  drawing  a 
pair  of  human  legs,  stretched  wide  apart,  and  striding  through 
infinite  space.  This  is  the  origin  of  the  first  letter  in  the  al- 
phabet, and  all  the  other  letters  he  explains  in  a  like  whimsi- 
cal manner. 

Undoubtedly  the  world  is  indebted  to  Egypt  for  this  illus- 
trious invention.      The  Pyramids,   "placed,"  as  Dr.   Picker 
ng  finely  expresses  it,  "  like  a  rock  in  the  current  of  time, 
contain  the  names  of  the  ancient  kings,  Cheops  and  Ceplv 


THE   ORIGIN   OF   WRITING.  47 

ren,  by  whom  they  were  built.  Egypt  has  been  justly 
called  the  monumental  nation.  No  country  on  earth  has  such 
numerous,  gigantic,  and  magnificent  memorials  of  her  early 
power  and  splendor  ;  and  these  monuments  were  antiquities  in 
antiquity.  The  Greeks  from  Homer  down,  the  Hebrews  from 
Moses  down,  refer  to  Egypt  as  an  old,  if  not  the  oldest  na- 
tion. The  monuments  are  described  by  Herodotus,  Diodorus, 
Clemens  of  Alexandria.  The  writings  with  which  those  mon- 
uments and  the  papyri  found  in  them  are  covered,  on  which 
the  priests  founded  their  statements  to  Herodotus,  and  Manetho 
constructed  his  historical  lists  of  the  kings,  and  Horapollo  his 
explanations  of  the  symbolical  characters,  are  coeval  with  the 
oldest  monuments,  running  back  far  beyond  the  recorded  his- 
tory of  any  other  nation,  and  intimating  a  long  history  of  form- 
ing and  consolidating  civilization  anterior  to  themselves.  From 
this  primeval  period  the  hieroglyphical  inscriptions  were  con- 
stantly employed,  through  the  Pharaonic  dynasties,  the  Per- 
sian supremacy,  the  line  of  Greek  sovereigns  from  Alexander, 
and  to  the  third  or  fourth  century  of  the  Roman  rule.  Several 
ancient  writers,  especially  Herodotus  and  Clemens  of  Alexan- 
dria, left  general  descriptions  of  the  Egyptian  graphic  system  ; 
but  as  it  ceased  to  be  employed,  and  its  place  was  supplied  by 
the  Coptic  alphabet  in  the  fifth  or  sixth  century  of  our  era,  the 
knowledge  of  its  principles  gradually  faded  away,  and  was  at 
length  completely  lost.  When,  in  modern  times,  this  subject 
began  to  excite  the  interest  of  scholars,  the  words  of  Herodo- 
tus and  Clemens  were  greatly  misunderstood.  Only  one  thing 
seemed  clear  from  their  united  statements,  —  that  Egyptian 
writing  consisted  of  three  kinds,  the  Hieroglyphic,  the  Hieratic, 
and  the  Demotic, — the  first,  as  its  name  imparts,  being  that  used 
in  sacred  sculptures  ;  the  second,  that  employed  by  the  priests  ; 
and  the  third,  that  employed  by  the  people.  But  upon  what 
graphic  principle  these  were  founded  was  wholly  unknown. 
The  monuments  and  the  ancient  papyri  exhibited  the  three 
forms ;  and  upon  comparing  them  it  appeared  that  the  hiero- 
glyphic or  sculptural  form  was  the  basis  of  the  other  two ;  thv 


48  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

hieratic  substituting  abbreviated  outlines,  and  the  demotic  almost 
arbitrary  characters,  for  the  entire  figures  of  the  first,  —  con- 
venience of  use  being  evidently  the  ruling  motive  for  both  these 
modes  of  shortening  the  process  of  writing,  as  the  practice  be- 
came more  general. 

Innumerable  conjectures  have  been  hazarded,  nearly  all  wide 
of  the  truth.  Lord  Monboddo's,  so  far  as  I  know,  was  the 
only  opinion  which  later  researches  have  shown,  in  its  main 
features,  to  be  correct.  The  problem  of  the  Egyptian  Sphinx 
remain  unsolved  until  the  present  century.  The  discovery  of 
the  Rosetta  Stone,  now  in  the  British  Museum,  furnished  the 
long-lost  clew  to  this  ancient  mystery.  On  this  stone  was  found 
an  inscription  in  three  forms,  —  Hieroglyphic,  Demotic,  and 
Greek.  Parts  were  mutilated,  but  enough  remained  unhurt  to 
show  clearly  what  it  contained  ;  and  the  inference  at  once  nat- 
urally suggested  itself,  that  the  Greek  was  a  translation  of  the 
other  two.  Copies  were  immediately  circulated  among  the 
European  philologists.  The  Greek  was  carefully  examined 
and  interpreted.  It  was  found  to  be  a  commemorative  inscrip- 
tion by  the  priests  of  Memphis,  in  honor  of  a  visit  of  the  young 
Ptolemy  Epiphanes  to  that  city,  on  the  eighth  anniversary  of 
his  accession  to  the  throne  under  a  guardian  ;  the  date  of  the 
record  being  196  B.  C.  On  comparing  the  hieroglyphics  with 
the  Greek,  it  was  found  that  certain  groups  of  figures,  enclosed 
in  a  ring,  —  an  arrangement  which  had  often  before  been  ob- 
served in  the  monuments  of  every  age,  —  corresponded  to  the 
name  of  Ptolemy ;  and  it  was  naturally  inferred  that  these 
groups  represented  that  name  in  some  way  or  other.  The 
next  thing  to  be  done  was  to  analyze  the  groups  themselves. 
Many  attempted  this  with  more  or  less  success.  Dr.  Young,  a 
great  English  mathematician,  determined  the  phonetic  value 
of  a  part  of  the  figures ;  but  he  missed  a  complete  solution, 
because  it  never  occurred  to  him  that  they  were  all  alphabeti- 
cally employed.  Starting  from  the  point  reached  by  Dr. 
Young,  Champollion  assumed  that  all  the  characters  were 
ased  as  Dr.  Young  had  shown  that  some  of  them  were ;  an& 


THE   ORIGIN  OF   WRITING.  49 

fortunately  having  obtained  another  bilingual  inscription  con- 
taining in  Greek  the  name  of  Cleopatra,  and,  corresponding  to 
it,  a  group  of  characters  in  a  ring,  he  rightly  inferred  that,  if  his 
principle  were  correct,  the  identical  letters  in  the  two  names 
would  be  expressed  by  the  same  characters,  which  proved  to 
be  the  case. 

This  conclusion  was  confirmed  by  numerous  other  compari- 
sons, and  a  hieroglyphical  alphabet  was  determined.  Thou- 
sands of  inscriptions  on  the  monuments  have  been  examined 
by  the  aid  of  this  key ,  and  it  has  been  clearly  shown  that  the 
alphabetic  element  enters  largely  into  all.  Manetho's  lists  of 
kings  have  been,  to  a  considerable  extent,  identified,  and  a 
foundation  laid  for  the  reconstruction  of  Egyptian  history,  and, 
through  that,  of  the  collateral  history  of  neighboring  countries 
and  nations,  back  to  a  period  compared  with  which  the  dawn 
of  Grecian  poetry  seems  but  of  yesterday.  The  principle  of 
this  alphabetic  element  has  received  the  technical  name  of 
acrophonetic,  or  the  principle  of  initial  sounds,  —  the  figures 
representing  the  sounds  with  which  the  names  of  the  objects 
commence,  —  the  figure  of  a  Lion,  for  example,  standing  in 
these  phonetic  groups  for  L,  because  the  Egyptian  word  for 
lion  was  Laboi.  The  meanings,  however,  of  the  greater  part 
of  the  ascertained  hieroglyphics  have  been  decided  by  their 
position  in  combination  with  others  previously  determined ; 
the  figures  sometimes  failing  to  suggest  the  objects,  and  the 
Egyptian  names  of  the  objects  not  being  always  known.  In 
the  epithets  applied  to  proper  names,  and  in  the  words  of  the 
continuous  hieroglyphical  texts,  other  characters,  namely,  the 
pictorial  and  the  symbolical,  are  blended,  so  that  it  is  a  very 
difficult  and  complicated  problem  to  read  them  into  words. 
But,  beyond  all  question,  the  use  of  strictly  alphabetic  signs, 
in  each  of  the  three  kinds  of  writing,  is  coeval  with  the  ear- 
liest monuments,  and  the  use  of  hieroglyphical  alphabetic  char- 
acters goes  back  to  an  epoch  not  much  later  than  3000  B.  0 


LECTURE    IV. 

ALPHABETIC  WRITING.  —  PRIMEVAL  LITERATURE  OF 
THE  EAST. 

If  we  proceed  from  Egypt  in  a  northeast  direction,  we  find 
another  kind  of  monumental  writing,  called  the  wedge  or 
arrow-head,  —  the  writing  of  the  earliest  settlers  along  the 
Tigris  and  Euphrates.  These  nations  from  the  first  were  often 
brought  into  relations  of  peace  and  war  with  the  Egyptians ; 
but  they  had  not  that  persistency  in  the  method  of  inscription 
which  so  surprisingly  characterized  the  Egyptians.  Yet,  from 
a  period  commencing  about  2000  B.  C,  their  monuments  con- 
tain cuneiform  inscriptions,  in  this  character,  which  continue 
below  the  age  of  the  Persian  kings.  A  few  years  ago  these 
were  considered  the  unknown  signs  of  lost  languages :  but 
by  the  learned  labors  of  the  eminent  philologists  Grotefend, 
Lassen,  Burnouf,  and  especially  Rawlinson,  these  characters 
in  their  later  use  have  been  entirely,  and  in  their  earlier 
forms  are  in  a  fair  way  of  being  entirely  deciphered.  The 
system  was  not  purely  alphabetic  in  its  earliest  stages ;  syllabic 
and  symbolical  forms  entered  largely  into  its  composition.  But 
in  process  of  time,  we  cannot  tell  how  early,  the  alphabetic 
element  supplanted  the  others ;  and  in  the  reign  of  Darius, 
if  not  as  early  even  as  the  beginning  of  the  Achaemenian 
iynasty,  a  complete  alphabet,  representing  about  thirty-eight 
sounds,  was  established.  The  characters  are  all  formed  from 
the  parts  of  a  single  elementaiy  figure  combined  in  diiferent 
numbers,  positions,  and  relations ;  and  the  words  are  written 
by  giving  to  each  sound  in  them  its  appropriate  phonetic 
orthography. 

This  mode  of  monumental  writing  was  used,  as  I  have  said, 


ALPHABETIC   WRITING.  51 

by  the  myriads  of  people  constituting  the  Babylonian,  Assyri- 
an, Median,  and  Persian  empires,  and  was  applied  to  all  the 
languages  spoken  by  them.  The  most  remarkable  document 
tnus  written  is  the  great  Behistun  inscription,  carved  on  the 
side  of  a  rocky  mountain,  perpendicularly  smoothed  for  the 
purpose.  The  mountain  was  known  to  the  ancient  Greeks  as 
the  Bagistan,  formed  from  an  old  Persian  word,  implying 
sacred  to  the  Bagas,  or  the  Gods.  In  the  time  of  Diodorus 
Siculus,  it  contained  an  inscription,  said  to  have  been  placed 
there  by  Senriramis.  That  has  disappeared.  What  remains, 
however,  is  sufficiently  remarkable.  The  sculptures  consist  of 
twelve  figures  in  relief,  which  were  mistaken  by  one  of  the 
early  travellers  for  the  twelve  Apostles.  Above  them  is  a  sin- 
gular form  in  the  air,  representing  the  Zend  and  Persian  Deity 
Auramazda,  or  Ormuzd.  Connected  with  the  figures  are  large 
panels  on  the  smoothed  surface  of  the  rock,  filled  entirely  with 
arrow-head  inscriptions  ;  the  whole  occupying  a  space  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  length,  and  about  a  hundred  in 
breadth,  and  at  the  inaccessible  height  of  three  hundred  feet 
from  the  mountain's  base.  This  extraordinary  document  had 
been  often  described  by  travellers,  who  surveyed  it  through 
telescopes,  and  attempted  with  very  poor  success  to  copy  it. 
The  French  Commissioners,  who  endeavored  to  approach  it, 
came  home  and  reported  that  it  was  inaccessible.  But  Eng- 
lishmen consider  nothing  impossible  but  failure.  Colonel  Raw- 
linson,  residing  at  Bagdad  in  an  official  capacity,  determined 
that  the  thing  should  be  done  ;  and  it  was  done,  by  what 
means  he  has  not  fully  informed  us  in  the  very  interesting 
memoirs  upon  this  subject,  which  occupy  almost  the  whole  of 
several  numbers  of  the  Asiatic  Journal.  It  is  enough  to  say 
that  he  has  copied,  interpreted,  and  translated  the  Persian  part 
of  the  inscription,  which  proves  to  be  a  very  interesting  and 
important  record  of  the  early  portion  of  the  reign  of  King 
Darius.  The  figures  are  those  of  the  king  and  two  attendants, 
Into  whose  presence  are  brought,  with  their  hands  tied  behind 
them  and  cords  about  their  necks,  nine  captive  rebels.     The 


52  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

several  inscriptions  contain  an  account,  in  three  languages,  of 
their  misdeeds  and  their  punishment. 

Besides  this  monumental  alphabet,  these  nations  possessed 
an  abbreviated  writing,  corresponding  to  the  Demotic  of  the 
Egyptian.  Here  we  come  into  the  line  of  the  Zend  and  San- 
scrit, which  seem  to  me,  both  from  the  number  of  their  letters 
and  their  phonetic  values,  —  the  former  containing  thirty-nine 
and  the  latter  forty-eight  signs,  —  to  be  closely  connected  with 
the  arrow-heads.  At  least,  there  is  no  trace  of  their  having 
originated  in  pictorial  representations.  They  are  very  com- 
plete, especially  the  Sanscrit,  and  their  use  is  coeval  with  the 
beginning  of  their  literatures,  dating  in  all  human  probability 
two  thousand  years  before  our  era. 

Having  followed  the  course  of  the  art  of  writing  to  its  ut- 
most limits  eastward,  let  us  cast  a  glance  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion, and  come  a  little  nearer  home.  On  the  eastern  shore 
of  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  from  the  earliest  dawn  of  history, 
had  been  established  a  race,  vigorous,  active,  and  intellectual. 
The  sea  is  one  of  the  greatest  civilizers.  The  moment  you 
tread  its  shores,  and  breathe  its  bracing  air,  you  become  a  new 
being.  Its  restless  waves  tempt  you  to  dare  the  conflict  with 
them,  and  lo !  the  white  sails  of  adventure,  war,  or  commerce 
bear  you  away  to  distant  lands.  The  passion  grows  until  you 
feel  yourself  the  master  of  the  stormy  element,  and  force  the 
:nessenger  winds  and  waves  to  do  your  bidding.  So  grew  up 
rhose  Phoenician  merchants  and  mariners,  who  distributed  the 
products  and  gathered  in  the  wealth  of  the  ancient  world,  who 
built  up  powerful  commonwealths  on  the  eastern  margin,  and 
dotted  the  southern  and  northern  shores  of  the  Mediterranean 
with  their  colonies.  This  sea-roving  race  had  from  the  begin- 
ning close  and  constant  intercourse  with  the  already  ancient 
realm  of  the  Pharaohs.  There  they  found  the  art  of  writing, 
not  yet  reduced  to  its  simplest  idea  and  form  ;  and  there  thev 
found  all  the  instruments  and  materials  of  writing  in  common 
use.  The  art  was  just  what  they  wanted,  — not  the  sculpturea 
hieroglyphic ;  for  how  could  they  take  granite  slabs  for  their 


ALPHABETIC   WRITING  53 

ledgers  and  bills  of  lading,  and  troops  of  artists  to  hew  out  their 
accounts  current,  on  those  distant  voyages  ?  or  how  could  they 
stop  to  paint  the  pictures  of  the  hieroglyphics,  or  even  the  out- 
lines of  the  hieratic  style  ?  or  how  could  they  find  the  time  — 
business  men  as  they  were,  in  a  piratical  as  well  as  a  commer- 
cial way  —  to  describe  their  bales  of  merchandise,  or  exchange 
receipts  with  their  customers,  by  painfully  writing  out  a  series 
of  symbolical  representations?  They  took  the  idea,  not  thp 
form ;  they  struck  out  the  pictures  and  symbols ;  they  fixed  the 
alphabetic  part  by  adopting  a  character  from  some  one  object 
for  each  letter ;  they  simplified  the  characters  for  convenience 
of  writing;  and  so  they  had  an  alphabet  of  sixteen  sounds,  rep- 
resented by  easily  written  and  remembered  characters,  retain- 
ing the  names  of  the  objects  from  which  they  were  taken,  and 
finally  increased  in  number  to  twenty-two.  This  Phoenician 
alphabet  was  carried  by  them  round  the  Mediterranean  and 
through  the  adjacent  countries,  and  became  the  basis  of  all  the 
alphabets  of  Europe  and  many  of  those  in  Asia.  How  much 
more  convenient  this  was  than  the  Egyptian,  from  which  it  was 
taken,  or  the  arrow-head,  or  the  Chinese,  it  is  needless  to  point 
out.  How  much  more  convenient  it  is  than  the  Sanscrit  or 
the  Zend,  notwithstanding  the  boasted  superiority  of  the  former 
in  phonetic  completeness,  any  one  who  has  compared  them  as 
to  facility  of  reading  will  not  hesitate  to  admit. 

Thus  the  last  step  in  this  great  art  was  taken,  in  the  Zend 
and  Sanscrit  speaking  countries,  by  men  whose  minds  were 
occupied  with  deep  speculations  or  poetic  flights ;  and  thei** 
graphic  systems  exhibit  the  minute  analysis  and  theoretic  per- 
fection which  were  to  be  expected  from  their  authors.  In  the 
West,  it  was  taken  by  practical  men,  whose  speculations  were 
in  trade,  and  who  cared  little  for  theory,  provided  they  had  a 
compendious  instrument  for  the  transaction  of  business.  Phil- 
osophical meditation  produced  the  one  system,  commercial  ne- 
cessity the  other ;  and  from  the  first  moment  of  their  use  down 
ro  the  present  moment,  the  two  systems  have  borne  inefface- 
able marks  of  the  sources  from  which  they  came. 


»>4  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AN1)   POETRY 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that,  even  before  the  time  of  Cad 
mus,  the  simplest  form  of  the  Phoenician  alphabet  was  known 
in  several  parts  of  Europe,  probably  in  Greece  and  Italy,  cer- 
tainly throughout  Asia  Minor,  on  the  southern  shore  of  which 
Phoenician  colonies  had  been  already  established.  But  were 
this  not  so,  the  alphabet  was  known  and  used  in  Europe  at 
least  five  centuries  before  Homer ;  and  when  the  Ionian  colo- 
nies crossed  the  iEgean  Sea,  and  settled  the  western  coast  of 
Asia  Minor,  they  came  into  direct  contact  with  an  ancient 
civilization,  in  which  the  art  of  writing  had  been  established 
for  a  thousand  years. 

I  will  ask  your  attention,  for  the  remainder  of  this  lecture, 
to  a  very  rapid  view  of  the  literature  which  these  systems  of 
writing  have  been  the  means  of  handing  down  to  us. 

The  Chinese  have  a  very  extensive  literature,  which  con- 
tinues unbroken  from  very  ancient  times.  A  considerable 
portion  of  it  has  been  translated  into  the  European  languages. 

The  ancient  writers  speak  of  the  Egyptians  as  the  most 
learned  of  mankind.  Plato  alludes  to  Egyptian  poems  ten 
thousand  years  old ;  and  we  now  know  that  they  had  written 
records  from  the  time  of  Menes  downward,  that  is,  from  3000 
B.  C,  and  that  the  achievements  of  the  ancient  kings,  embla- 
zoned in  commemorative  sculpture,  were  celebrated  in  songs 
or  heroic  lays.  We  know  from  Clemens  of  Alexandria  that 
they  had  forty-two  Sacred  Books,  among  which  was  a  collec- 
tion of  hymns  in  honor  of  the  Gods,  handed  down,  in  the  relig- 
ious worship,  from  the  earliest  times,  and  adapted  to  musical 
recitation.  The  most  remarkable  of  these  books  is  the  Book 
of  the  Dead,  the  most  complete  copy  of  which  was  found  in 
the  Tomb  of  the  Kings  at  Thebes.  It  is  written  in  the  sacred 
language  and  the  hieroglyphic  character,  and  the  date  of  this 
particular  copy  is  supposed  to  be  about  fifteen  centuries  B.  C. ; 
so  that  we  have  here  a  literary  work,  representing  the  soul  of 
ihe  departed  on  its  journey  to  the  Celestial  Light,  and  contain 
ing  the  solemn  hymns  chanted  by  the  disembodied  spirit  in  its 


PRIMEVAL   LITERATURE   OF   THE   EAST.  55 

acts  of  adoration  to  the  Deities,  on  the  way  to  its  final  rest. 
The  now  existing  original  of  the  volume,  published  a  few  years 
age  by  Lepsius,  is  contemporary  with  Moses,  and  may  have 
been  read  by  him.  With  regard  to  the  form  of  poetical  com- 
position, it  would  appear  that  the  Egyptians  had  invented  the 
peculiar  species  known  to  Hebrew  scholars  as  parallelism,  de- 
pending for  its  effect,  not  on  quantity  or  accent  or  rhyme, 
though  in  some  of  the  Hebrew  compositions  the  elements  of 
the  last  two  are  thought  to  exist,  but  upon  a  balance  of 
clauses,  sentences,  and  ideas,  extremely  well  suited  to  choral 
recitation  and  the  accompaniment  of  the  solemn  dance.  The 
various  forms  of  this  parallelism  have  been  well  explained  in 
the  elegant  work  of  Lowth,  and  the  more  appreciating  dia- 
logues of  Herder  on  the  spirit  of  Hebrew  poetry. 

Mr.  Gliddon  gives  a  few  lines,  from  the  sculptures  of  Rame- 
ses  III.,  belonging  to  the  sixteenth  century  B.  C,  and  some 
from  a  still  earlier  period,  which,  if  rightly  interpreted,  show 
beyond  a  doubt  that  this  peculiar  rhythm  is  Egyptian  in  its 

origin. 

"  Thy  name  is  firm  as  heaven, 
The  duration  of  thy  days  is  as  the  disk  of  the  snn." 

And  again: —  r 

"  Koll,  the  barbarian  land,  is  under  thy  sandal, 
Kush  is  within  thy  grasp." 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  same  rhythm  is  found  in  the  In- 
dian war-songs.  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Schoolcraft's  recently 
published  work  for  one  of  them  :  — 

"  I  am  rising  to  seek  the  war-path ; 
The  earth  and  the  sky  are  before  me ; 
I  walk  by  day  and  by  night, 
And  the  evening  star  is  my  guide." 

Mr.  SeyfFarth '  says,  that  the  Egyptian  literary  works,  from 
Ibraham  down  to  the  second  century  of  our  era,  if  printed 
together,  would  fill  two  hundred  folio  volumes;  and  he  re- 
joices in  the  prospect  of  having  them  all  translated  into  his 
mother  tongue.     I  do  not  know  whether  scholars  who  have 


m  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

had  so  much  trouble  in  worrying  out  the  little  we  now  possess 
will  sympathize  in  this  peculiar  idea  of  enjoyment. 

The  Phoenician  and  Syrian  poetical  literatures  have  suffered 
shipwreck,  and  it  would  be  a  waste  of  time  to  weave  a  web  of 
hypothesis  out  of  the  slight  information  we  possess  relating  to 
their  festal  poetry,  and  the  sacred  songs  which  formed  a  part 
of  their  temple  worship. 

Moving  a  little  eastward  we  come  upon  the  poetical  lit- 
erature of  the  Hebrews,  so  familiar  to  the  Christian  world. 
The  religious  use  to  which  this  remarkable  poetry  has  been 
applied  tends,  in  some  measure,  to  blind  us  to  its  merely  lit- 
erary excellences.  The  Hebrew  language  is  not  copious  in 
its  lexicon ;  it  is  defective  in  its  inflections,  somewhat  clumsy 
in  movement,  expression,  and  construction.  Probably  it  could 
never  have  lent  itself  to  the  many  forms  of  a  various  literature, 
in  the  European  sense  of  the  term ;  for  it  does  not  wind  itself 
flexibly  round  the  ever-shifting  thought  of  cultivated  man. 
In  narrative  it  is  abrupt ;  the  parts  and  clauses  not  running 
into  each  other,  by  subtile  and  refined  connections,  as  in  the 
Indo-Germanic  languages,  but  standing  out  distinct  and  indi- 
vidual, like  the  hieroglyphs  upon  a  Theban  temple.  In  poetry, 
it  presents  masses  of  thought,  in  the  boldest  imagery,  in  a 
rhythm  of  limited  compass,  though  more  varied  than  the 
Egyptian,  from  which  it  was  borrowed.  The  literature  of 
this  language  begins  with  the  hero,  poet,  historian,  and  legis- 
lator, who  was  strangely  saved  from  death  by  the  daughter 
of  Pharaoh  for  a  mighty  destiny.  He  was  trained  in  all  the 
lore  of  Egypt,  but  untouched  by  the  superstition  and  idola- 
try in  which  the  people  were  sunk.  Learned  in  their  libra- 
ries, familiar  with  their  sacred  hymns,  drawing  from  these 
sources  of  knowledge,  but  deriving  his  inspiration  from  his 
own  rich  genius  and  from  a  higher  fountainJhead,  he  was  des- 
tined to  lay  the  foundation  of  the  Hebrew  literature  as  well  as 
of  the  Hebrew  polity.  The  historical  papyrus-rolls  gave  him 
models  for  his  narrative,  and  the  hymns  he  had  so  often  heard 
chanted  by  poets  and  priests  suggested  the  form  of  the   tri- 


PRIMEVAL   LITERATURE   OF   THE   EAST.  67 

umphal  song  of  Moses  and  Miriam,  so  full  of  the  lyrical  spirit. 
From  this  time  forward  for  a  thousand  years,  the  Hebrew  na- 
tion produced  a  series  of  writers,  —  poets,  prophets,  psalmists,  — 
whose  works,  in  grandeur  of  ideas  and  magnificence  of  im- 
agery, have  not  been  surpassed.  Their  range  of  art  was  ex- 
clusive and  narrow,  but  admitted  some  variety  of  form.  Of 
epic  poetry  they  had  none.  Lyric  poetry,  of  the  highest  type, 
was  the  most  characteristic  of  their  genius.  The  pastoral  pas- 
sages of  Solomon's  Song  are  sweeter  than  anything  in  Theoc- 
ritus and  Bion.  Their  elegies  breathe  a  more  tender  sadness 
than  those  of  Mimnermus.  But  they  are  all  cast  in  one  mould. 
The  laws  of  art  had  not  yet  assigned  to  each  species  its  appro- 
priate form,  as  was  done  by  the  refined  taste  of  the  Greeks. 

The  most  finished  specimen  of  Hebrew  art  is  the  Book  of 
Job,  whose  name  has  had  the  evil  fortune  to  pass  into  a  prov- 
erb, and  is  identified  at  once  with  the  lowest  and  most  sordid 
poverty,  and  with  the  most  painful  and  loathsome  visitation  to 
which  the  flesh  of  man  is  subject.  This  grand  poem,  to  which 
I  refer  for  a  single  moment,  though  not  a  drama,  is  dramatic 
in  its  conception,  embracing  scenes  both  in  heaven  and  earth. 
The  Introduction  contains  the  germ  of  the  Prologue,  and  the 
conclusion  is  not  unlike  those  choral  closes  in  which  the  scenes 
of  a  Grecian  tragedy  find  their  fitting  solution. 

The  unknown  author  of  this  singular  poem  was  evidently 
familiar  with  all  the  knowledge,  science,  and  practical  art  of 
his  age.  The  deep  significance  of  its  subject  and  substance 
shows  that  he  dealt  with  the  profoundest  questions  of  human 
destiny ;  while  in  splendor  of  poetic  imagination,  and  in  the 
picturesque  presentment  of  the  glories  of  the  Eastern  world, 
so  far  as  I  know,  he  is  without  his  peer  in  ancient  Asia.  I 
do  not  think  that  any  poet  has  so  powerfully  described  the 
terrors  of  a  supernatural  visitation. 

"A  word  stole  secretly  to  me, 
Its  whispers  caught  my  ear  : 
At  the  hoar  of  night  visions, 
When  deep  sleep  falleth  on  man. 


&8  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

'  I  was  seized  with  fear  and  shuddering, 

And  terror  shook  my  frame ; 
A  spirit  was  passing  before  me,  — 
All  my  hair  stood  on  end ; 
He  stood  still,  but  I  saw  not  his  form,  — 
A  shadowy  image  was  before  my  eyes." 

This  is  the  highest  point  which  the  Hebrew  art  of  poetry 
attained,  and  of  course  the  highest  Semitic  type.  We  know 
that  the  Assyrians,  Persians,  and  Medes  had  their  poetical 
culture.  It  is  expressly  mentioned  in  the  Behistun  Inscrip- 
tion. "  I  reinstituted  for  the  state  the  sacred  chants,"  says  the 
king,  alluding  to  them  as  of  very  ancient  origin.  These  sacred 
chants  were  probably  the  religious  hymns  of  the  Zend  writers, 
such  as  Zoroaster,  whom  Plato  and  Aristotle  reckoned  among 
the  most  ancient  sages,  though  modern  scepticism  has  reduced 
him  to  a  myth.  Whether  so  or  not,  he  is  said  to  have  laughed 
on  the  day  of  his  birth,  —  an  omen  of  his  future  greatness. 
Heeren  places  him  eight  centuries  B.  C,  and  Burnouf,  the 
most  critical  Zend  scholar  of  our  times,  says  that  the  language 
of  the  Zend-avesta  is  at  the  same  stage  of  development  with 
the  Sanscrit  of  the  Vedas,  and  these  have  been  placed  about 
2000  B.  C.  What  has  struck  me  most  in  this  compilation  of 
the  ancient  sage  is  his  conception  of  virtue  or  true  goodness,  as 
consisting  in  purity  of  thought,  purity  of  word,  and  purity  of 
deed.  Heeren  says :  "  With  the  exception  of  the  Mosaical 
Scriptures,  we  are  acquainted  with  nothing  (the  untranslated 
Vedas  perhaps  excepted)  which  so  plainly  wears  the  stamp  of 
remote  antiquity,  ascending  beyond  the  times  within  which 
the  known  empires  of  the  East  flourished." 

If  we  pass  along  in  the  track  of  empires,  visit  the  desola- 
tion where  once  stood  the  capitals  of  mighty  kingdoms,  and 
ask  what  voice  of  poetry  Babylon  had  to  utter,  or  Nineveh,  or 
Persepolis,  or  Ecbatana,  we  are  answered  by  the  silence  of  the 
tomb.  Scattered  memorials  of  their  former  greatness  —  the 
splendid  halls  of  ancient  royalty,  the  very  throne  itself  of  those 
anr.ient  masters  of  the  world  —  are  coming  again  to  light,  from 


PRIMEVAL   LITERATURE   OF   THE   EAST.  59 

choir  burial  of  ages.  But  the  storm  of  desolation  has  swept 
uway  the  memorials  of  their  poetry,  and  their  very  languages 
exist  only  in  the  stone-cut  inscriptions,  placed  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  destroyer's  hand.  These  too  remained  a  sealed  book, 
until  the  genius  of  our  own  searching  age  broke  the  seal. 
What  traces  of  literary  culture  does  the  mount  of  Bagistan 
reveal  to  us,  now  that  its  gigantic  records  have  been  deci- 
phered? Doubtless  some  practice  in  historical  writing,  and 
some  characteristic  features  of  the  Oriental  mind.  It  is  not 
without  interest  that  we  read  in  those  rocky  pages  a  style  re- 
sembling that  of  the  ancient  Hebrew  narratives.  "  Saith  Da- 
rius the  king :  By  the  grace  of  Ormuzd,  I  am  king ;  Ormuzd 
has  granted  me  the  empire."  It  is  not  unpleasing  to  see  the 
constant  recognition  of  a  higher  power,  on  whose  grace  even 
the  Great  King  depends ;  at  the  same  time,  we  cannot  help 
recognizing  the  strange  union  of  piety  and  ferocity  which  has 
always  marked  the  course  of  Oriental  despotism.  "  Ormuzd 
brought  help  to  me.  By  the  grace  of  Ormuzd  my  troops 
entirely  defeated  the  rebel  army,  and  took  Sitrantachmes,  and 
brought  him  before  me.  Then  I  cut  off  his  nose  and  his  ears. 
He  was  kept  chained  at  my  door.  All  the  kingdom  beheld 
him.     Afterwards  I  had  him  crucified  at  Arbela." 

In  another  part  of  the  Inscription  the  king  says :  "  The 
crown  that  had  been  wrested  from  our  race,  that  I  recovered ; 
I  established  it  firmly,  as  in  the  days  of  old  ;  thus  I  did.  The 
rites  which  Gomates  the  Magian  introduced,  I  prohibited.  I 
reinstituted  for  the  state  the  sacred  chants  and  worship,  and 
confided  them  to  the  families  which  Gomates  the  Magian  had 
deprived  of  these  offices."  In  another  place  his  Majesty  says 
of  the  rebellious  provinces :  "  The  evil  one  created  lies,  that 
they  should  deceive  the  state."  "Thou,"  continues  the  king 
in  a  moralizing  vein,  "  thou,  whoever  mayest  be  king  here- 
after, exert  thyself  to  put  down  lying ;  the  man  who  may  be 
neretical,  him  entirely  destroy." 

Ascending  from  these  records  of  the  Persian  empire  to  a 
higher  period  of  antiquity,  and  a  more  northern  region,  we  come 


60  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

upon  the  strangely  mysterious  realm  of  the  people  of  the  Zend, 
and  the  great  name  of  Zoroaster,  who  by  some  modern  sceptics 
has  been  reduced  to  nonentity.  By  the  early  Greeks,  espe- 
cially Plato  and  Aristotle,  he  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  most 
ancient  sages  of  the  human  race.  Fables  gathered  around 
his  name,  as  around  other  great  names  of  remote  antiquity. 
Among  the  wonders  related  of  his  precocious  achievements  is 
the  story  of  his  birthday,  already  referred  to ;  —  if  it  is  true,  he 
was  the  most  sensible  infant  phenomenon  on  record.  There 
is  too  much  both  of  form  and  of  substance  in  his  acts  and  words 
to  allow  us  to  hold  him  as  a  mere  myth.  The  tenor  of  the 
books  that  bear  his  name,  and  the  combination  of  facts,  circum- 
stances, and  narratives  in  Persian  and  Median  history,  compel 
us  to  acquiesce  in  the  view  which  places  him  and  his  system 
of  religious  legislation  in  a  period  of  primeval  antiquity  long 
anterior  to  the  establishment  of  those  empires.  The  Zend- 
avesta,  or  Living  Word,  attributed  to  him,  contains  a  series  of 
works  highly  curious  in  a  literary  point  of  view,  and  of  the 
greatest  interest  in  their  moral  and  religious  aspects.  They 
bear  witness  to  a  literary  system,  at  a  very  early  period, — 
earlier  than  the  civilization  of  any  part  of  Greece,  —  exten- 
sively prevalent  through  the  region  bordering  on  India,  and 
connecting  itself  closely  with  the  religious  legislation  of  the 
Hindoos  themselves,  and  equally  to  a  development  of  language 
and  the  art  of  composition,  contemporaneously  with  the  ear- 
liest nations  that  flourished  on  the  banks  of  the  Tigris  and  Eu- 
phrates. I  have  no  time,  nor  does  it  belong  to  my  subject,  to 
give  even  an  outline  of  his  system ;  but  in  quoting  his  concep- 
tion of  virtue  as  consisting  in  purity  of  thought,  purity  of  word, 
and  purity  of  act,  and  in  alluding  to  his  attempt  to  solve  the 
problem  of  evil,  I  shall  have  done  enough  to  show  that  this 
elder  sage  of  the  Orient  dealt  with  high  questions  and  came  to 
great  moral  conclusions,  —  that  he  was  a  man  of  deep  medita- 
tion and  large  experience. 

Pursuing  our  journey  eastward,  and  entering  the  regions  of 
the  Indus,  the  Himalayas,  and  the  sacred  Ganges,  we  find  ou* 


PRIMEVAL   LITERATURE   OF  THE  EAST.  61 

selves  again  surrounded  by  the  venerable  and  imposing  memo- 
rials of  an  unfathomable  antiquity.  Of  course  we  must  ex- 
clude from  our  view  those  immeasurable  and  inconceivable 
periods  of  time,  and  reigns  of  dynasties,  to  which  credulity,  or 
love  of  exaggeration,  or  childish  tampering  with  huge,  unman- 
ageable numbers,  has  given  birth.  Swayimbore  reigned  a  bil- 
lion and  two  hundred  thousand  million  years.  Nandu  had  an 
army  of  ten  billions  of  soldiers.  Two  kingdoms  were  separated 
by  a  mountain  six  hundred  thousand  miles  high.  Sagur  had 
sixty  thousand  sons  born  in  a  pumpkin.  There  is,  doubtless, 
some  influence  of  the  mighty  physical  features  of  the  country 
to  be  seen  in  these  monstrous  fictions.  Tremendous  contrasts 
of  climate ;  the  highest  mountain  ranges  in  the  world ;  some 
of  the  largest  rivers  ;  plains  of  boundless  fertility  ;  and  animals 
of  wondrous  variety,  growth,  and  fierceness,  —  all  these  things 
we  may  trace  in  their  traditions,  literature,  art,  and  especially 
their  poetry. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  race  which  founded  the  peculiar 
polity,  religion,  and  literature  of  this  remote  part  of  the  world, 
were  immigrant  conquerors  from  the  West  and  North.  Their 
own  traditions  point  in  these  directions ;  the  organism  of  soci- 
ety, which  has  come  down  to  our  time,  proves  that  a  conquer- 
ing race  established  the  system  of  caste  ;  and,  lastly,  the  philo- 
logical and  ethnological  inquiries  of  the  present  day  have  shown 
that  tribes  and  languages  still  exist  in  the  southern  parts  of  the 
peninsula  wholly  different  from  the  Brahmins,  and  speaking 
languages  that  have  no  affinities  with  the  Sanscrit  or  any  of  its 
descendants. 

Alexander  found  the  society  and  civilization  of  the  Indi,  in 
all  its  leading  features,  the  same  as  the  modern  Europeans 
found  it  in  the  fifteenth  century.  Though  the  chronological 
arrangement  of  Indian  history  cannot  be  made  out  with  any 
degree  of  precision,  still  certain  points  have  been  settled  suffi- 
ciently well  to  answer  the  purpose  for  which  I  introduce  the 
subject  here. 

This  much  is  sufficiently  established,  —  that  in  a  very  re- 


62  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

mote  antiquity,  second  only  to  the  primeval  periods  of  Egyp- 
tian annals,  established  communities,  highly  civilized,  with  a 
philosophical  religion  and  a  religious  legislation,  both  implying 
the  experience  and  the  intellectual  discipline  of  many  centu- 
ries, already  existed.  The  Vedas,  or  most  ancient  sacred 
Scriptures  of  the  Indi,  can  hardly  be  brought  much  lower  than 
the  twentieth  century  before  our  era,  the  latest  date  assigned 
them  being  the  sixteenth.  The  laws  of  Menu  are  but  little, 
if  any,  later ;  and  these,  with  the  Vedas,  form  the  basis  of  a 
civilization  wonderful  for  its  complicated  arrangement,  its  philo- 
sophical insight,  its  poetical  beauty,  and  its  permanency  of  du- 
ration. 

The  poetical  literature  of  the  Sanscrit  commences  even  with 
the  Vedas,  and  continues  in  long  succession  down  to  the  fifth 
or  sixth  century  after  Christ,  —  a  literature  for  copiousness 
and  extent  absolutely  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  the  hu- 
man race.  In  its  course  of  development  it  sustains  a  singular 
parallelism  with  the  Greek ;  but  more  of  its  early  forms  have 
been  preserved.  Next  to  the  Vedas  comes  a  most  luxuriant 
development  of  epic  poetry,  especially  in  the  two  great  works 
under  the  titles  of  the  Ramayana  and  Mahabharata,  the  former 
by  Valmiki,  and  the  latter  by  Vyasa.  They  have  been  com- 
pared to  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  of  Homer ;  but  the  contrast  is 
more  striking  than  the  similitude.  They  antedate,  probably, 
by  several  centuries,  the  works  of  the  Ionian  singer.  Like  the 
Greek  epic,  the  Sanscrit  is  closely  interwoven  with  mythologi- 
cal conceptions,  taking  into  the  sphere  of  epic  action,  not  only 
human  heroes,  but  supernatural  beings.  But  it  also  descends 
from  these  heights,  and  embraces  the  animal  world  in  grotesque 
combination  with  the  world  of  mea  and  the  world  of  gods. 

Life  is  short,  and  Sanscrit  poems  are  very  long.  The  Ra- 
mayana extends  to  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  lines,  that 
is,  three  times  the  length  of  the  Iliad,  Odyssey,  and  JSneid  put 
together ;  and  the  Mahabharata  is  twice  as  long  as  the  Rama- 
yana.  Sir  William  Jones  says  :  "  Wherever  we  direct  our 
attention  to  Hindoo  literature,  the  notion  of  infinity  presents 


PRIMEVAL  LITERATURE   OF   THE   EAST.  63 

itself;  and  sure  the  longest  life  would  not  suffice  for  the  single 
perusal  of  works  that  rise  and  swell,  protuberant  like  the  Him- 
alayas, above  the  bulkiest  compositions  of  every  land  beyond 
the  confines  of  India." 

The  subject  of  the  Ramayana  is  the  victory  of  Rama  oyer 
Ravana,  the  prince  of  the  Rakshasas,  a  race  of  Titanic  genii  or 
demons.  This  supernatural  personage,  a  being  endowed  with 
ten  heads,  has  driven  forth  the  gods  from  Lanka,  the  capital 
of  Ceylon,  and  thence  spread  terror  among  gods  and  men. 
The  gods  implore  Vishnu  to  become  incarnate.  He  consents, 
and  appears  on  earth  in  the  form  of  Rama,  son  of  Dasaratha 
(who  is  already  nine  thousand  years  old)  and  of  Kansalya, 
the  king  and  queen  of  Ayodhya.  The  early  exploits  and  edu- 
cation of  the  Godlike  are  minutely  set  forth.  He  wins  the 
beautiful  Sita,  daughter  of  a  neighboring  monarch,  by  bending 
a  marvellous  bow,  so  heavy  that  eight  hundred  men  were  re- 
quired to  draw  the  eight-wheeled  car  in  which  it  is  borne. 
Rama  bends  it  till  it  breaks  in  the  middle,  and  makes  a  crash 
like  a  falling  mountain.  As  a  reward  for  drawing  so  long  a 
bow,  he  marries  Sita.  Rama's  father,  feeling  the  infirmities 
of  age  creeping  over  him,  as  well  he  may,  proposes  to  dele- 
gate his  power  to  his  son ;  but  our  hero  refuses  to  accept  it. 
The  father,  stirred  up  by  the  jealousy  of  another  wife,  sends 
him  into  exile,  but  soon  dies  of  grief  for  his  loss.  Rama  retires 
with  his  bride  to  the  forests,  defeats  a  host  of  evil  demons, 
and  cuts  off  the  nose  and  ears  of  the  sister  of  their  king.  This 
naturally  enough  stirs  up  the  wrath  of  Ravana,  her  brother, 
who  by  a  trick  succeeds  in  kidnapping  Sita  and  carrying  her 
into  captivity  in  Lanka.  Rama  returns,  and,  learning  what 
has  happened,  betakes  himself  to  King  Sugriva,  the  powerful 
monarch  of  a  neighboring  nation  of  monkeys,  who  despatches 

le  most  eminent  of  his  courtiers  in  search  of  Sita.  This  most 
politic  diplomatist  of  the  monkey  tribe,  Hanuman  by  name, 
finds  out  the  prison  of  Sita,  and,  in  the  form  of  a  rat,  holds  an 
interview  with  the  captive  princess.  Then,  in  his  proper  per- 
»on,  he  frightens  the  giants  by  running  ovel  the  roofs  of  their 


64  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

nouses.  He  is  at  last  brought  into  the  presence  of  Ravana, 
who  questions  him ;  but  Hanuman,  by  the  shrewdness  and  wit 
of  his  answers,  turns  the  laugh  against  the  monarch.  The 
monkey,  indignant  at  the  slight  that  the  king  has  put  upon 
him  by  not  offering  him  a  seat,  makes  a  coil  of  his  tail,  until  it 
reaches  the  height  of  the  throne,  and  then  sits  upon  it.  What 
is  to  be  done  with  this  droll  and  impudent  stranger  ?  After 
much  deliberation  they  make  up  their  minds  to  have  a  holiday, 
and  to  disport  themselves  by  setting  fire  to  Hanuman's  tail,  on 
which  he  seems  to  pride  himself  more  than  is  becoming. 
All  the  old  rags,  paper,  and  dry  chips  in  the  city  are  brought 
forthwith,  and  piled  around  the  offending  coil.  Hanuman,  like 
Sampson's  foxes,  runs  through  the  city,  over  the  cornfields, 
among  the  hay-ricks,  and  a  horrible  conflagration  breaks  out 
in  all  directions.  Seeing  what  a  blunder  they  have  committed, 
they  tear  after  the  blazing  beast,  in  the  vain  hope  of  extin- 
guishing him.  Away  he  scampers,  climbing  the  highest 
tower  in  the  city ;  after  him  hasten  the  hurrying  giants,  and 
when  the  tower  is  filled  with  them,  he  tumbles  it  down  about 
their  ears.  Escaping  from  the  crash  and  hurly-burly,  he  dips 
his  tail  in  the  ocean,  extinguishes  it,  and  returns  to  Rama.  A 
huge  army  of  monkeys  is  gathered  together.  They  throw  a 
bridge  across  to  Lanka,  and  lay  siege  to  the  fortress  of  Ravana, 
who  encounters  them  with  his  chariots  of  war.  A  battle  fol- 
lows, whicli  makes  the  earth  shake  for  seven  days;  Rama  slays 
Ravana,  frees  the  earth  from  giants,  and  rescues  Sita,  who 
proves  her  suspected  innocence  by  a  fiery  ordeal.  The  whole 
world  rejoices  at  the  result,  and  the  gods  themselves  express 

heir  rapture  by  applause.  These  deeds  accomplished,  our 
hero  dismisses  the  monkey  host,  and  establishes  himself  in  his 
royal  power.  He  attains  to  the  height  of  felicity,  and  governs 
a  happy  people  with  paternal  sway.  Peace  and  prosperity 
reign  throughout  his  dominions ;  no  suffering,  no  death,  dis- 
turbs the  placid  serenity  of  this  golden  age.  When  a  hundred 
and  ten  thousand  years  shall  have  glided  thus  happily  away, 
Rama  shall  *eave   his  kingdom,  and  ascend  to  the  world  of 

Vishnu. 


PRIMEVAL  LITERATURE   OF  THE   EAST.  65 

The  grotesque,  gigantic,  and  incongruous  details  into  which 
the  Oriental  imagination  runs,  in  these  old  epics,  is  sufficiently 
obvious  from  this  slight  sketch  of  the  Ramayana.  The  narra- 
tive is  frequently  tedious  and  prolix ;  and  the  epithets,  espe- 
cially in  describing  illustrious  personages,  are  numerous,  pom- 
pous, and,  according  to  Western  notions,  absurd.  It  runs  out 
into  episodes,  of  extravagant  disproportion  to  the  whole,  con- 
sidered as  a  work  of  art,  but  containing  many  of  the  most  strik- 
ing and  poetical  passages.  The  style  of  rhythmical  compo- 
sition is  advanced  beyond  the  Hebrew,  but  not  to  the  stage  of 
the  Greek.  It  is  founded  on  quantity ;  the  epic  measure  being 
what  is  technically  called  a  sloca,  or  distich  of  two  lines,  each 
sixteen  syllables  long,  and  only  the  last  line  subjected  to  any 
law  of  quantity.  How  fundamentally  different  all  this  was 
from  the  rigid  practice  of  the  Greeks,  I  shall  have  occasion 
hereafter  to  show. 

Notwithstanding  these  defects  of  the  Hindoo  epic,  judged 
by  the  severe  rules  of  art,  there  are  innumerable  passages  con- 
ceived in  the  most  exquisite  spirit  of  poetry,  and  executed  with 
a  simplicity  and  fineness  of  taste  beyond  which  it  is  impos- 
sible to  go.  I  quote  a  short  passage  translated  by  Rev.  Mr. 
De  Ward.  It  is  the  address  of  Sita  to  her  husband,  in  which 
she  declares  her  resolution  to  follow  him  into  the  wilderness. 

"  Son  of  the  venerable  parent !  hear, 
'T  is  Sita  speaks.     Say,  art  thou  not  assured 
That  to  each  being  his  allotted  time 
And  portion,  as  his  merit,  are  assigned, 
And  that  a  wife  her  husband's  portion  shares  ? 
Therefore,  with  thee  this  forest  lot  I  claim. 
A  woman's  bliss  is  found,  not  in  the  smile 
Of  father,  mother,  friend,  or  in  herself; 
Her  husband  is  her  only  portion  here, 
Her  heaven  hereafter.     If  thou  indeed 
Depart  this  day  into  the  forest  drear, 
I  will  precede  and  smooth  the  thorny  way. 
0,  chide  me  not ;  for  where  the  husband  is, 
Within  the  palace  on  the  stately  car, 
VOL.   I.  5 


66  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

Or  wandering  in  the  air,  in  every  state, 
The  shadow  of  his  feet  is  her  abode. 

Forbid  me  not.     For  as  a  gay  recluse, 
On  thee  attending,  happy  shall  I  feel 
Within  this  honey-scented  grove  to  roam ; 
For  thou  e'en  here  canst  nourish  and  protect. 
A  residence  in  heaven,  0  Raghuon, 
Without  thy  presence  would  no  joy  afford. 

Pleased  to  embrace  thy  feet,  I  will  reside 
In  the  rough  forest,  as  my  father's  house, 
Void  of  all  other  wish,  supremely  thine. 
Permit  me  this  request,  —  I  will  not  grieve,  — 
I  will  not  burden  thee,  —  refuse  me  not ; 
But  shouldst  thou,  Raghuon,  this  prayer  deny, 
Know  I  resolve  on  death,  —  if  torn  from  thee." 

The  Descent  of  the  Ganges,  from  the  first  book  of  the  Ra- 
mayana,  has  been  often  translated  ;  best  of  all  by  Augustus 
William  Schlegel,  into  German  hexameters.  It  has  been 
extremely  well  rendered  into  English,  in  long  trochaic  meas- 
ure, by  Professor  Milman  :  — 

"  Up  the  Raja,  at  the  sign,  upon  his  glittering  chariot  leaps, 
Instant  Ganga  the  divine  follows  his  majestic  steps ; 
From  the  high  heaven  burst  she  forth,  first  on  Siva's  lofty  crown ; 
Headlong  then,  and  prone  to  earth,  thundering  rushed  the  cataract  down. 
Swarms  of  bright-hued  fish  came  dashing;  turtles,  dolphins,  in  their  mirth, 
Fallen  or  falling,  glancing,  flushing,  to  the  many-gleaming  earth ; 
And  all  the  host  of  heaven  came  down,  sprites  and  genii  in  amaze, 
And  each  forsook  his  heavenly  throne,  upon  that  glorious  scene  to  gaze. 
On  cars,  like  high-towered  cities,  seen,  with  elephants  and  coursers  rode, 
Or  on  aoft-swinging  palanquin  lay  wondering,  each  observant  god. 
As  met  in  bright  divan  each  god,  and  flashed  their  jewelled  vestures  rays, 
The  corruscating  ether  glowed,  as  with  a  hundred  suns  ablaze ; 

And  in  ten  thousand  sparkles  bright  went  flashing  up  the  cloudy  spray, 
The  sn^wy  flocking  swans  less  white,  within  its  glittering  mists  at  play. 
Ana  aeadong  now  poured  down  the  flood,  and  now  in  silver  circlets  wound  ; 
Then  lake-like  spread,  all  bright  and  broad,  then  gently,  gently  flowed  around 
Then  'neath  the  caverned  earth  descending,  then  spouted  up  the  boiling  tide 
Then  stream  with  stream,  harmonious  blending,  swell  bubbling  up  or  smooth 
subside . 


PRIMEVAL  LITERATURE   OF  THE   EAST.  67 

By  that  heaven-welling  water's  breast,  the  genii  and  the  sages  stood ; 
Its  sanctifying  dews  they  blest,  and  plunged  within  the  lustral  flood. 

The  world,  in  solemn  jubilee,  behold  these  heavenly  waves  draw  near, 
From  sin  and  dark  pollution  free,  bathed  in  the  blameless  waters  clear. 
Swiftly  King  Bhagiratha  drave,  upon  his  lofty  glittering  car, 
And  swift  with  her  obeisant  wave,  bright  Ganga  followed  him  afar." 

I  will  read  one  passage  more  from  the  Ramayana,  —  the 
episode  of  the  death  of  Yadnadatta,  the  only  son  of  two  blind 
recluses,  accidentally  slain  by  King  Dasaratha  while  hunting. 
The  bereaved  parents  are  led  to  the  body  of  their  lost  son,  and 
the  pathos  of  the  scene  falls  scarcely  short  of  the  laments  of 
Priam  and  Hecuba  over  the  body  of  Hector. 

"  And  she,  the  mother  of  the  dead,  his  face  kissed  tenderly ; 
And  while  the  tears  flowed  down  her  cheeks,  in  piteous  accents  cried : 
'  0  Yadnadatta,  am  I  not  more  dear  to  thee  than  life  1 
Why,  then,  thy  long,  last  journey  take,  and  speak  to  me  no  more  ? 
Why  art  thou  angry,  0  my  son,  and  answerest  not  my  word  ? ' 
And  then  his  father  mournfully  the  lifeless  body  touched, 
And  all  unhappy  to  him  spake,  as  he  were  yet  alive : 
'  0  son,  did  I  not  come  to  thee,  with  thy  loved  mother  come  ? 
Arise  then,  fold  us  in  thine  arms,  embrace  this  neck,  my  son. 
And  when  the  shadowy  night  descends,  whose  honeyed  voice  shall  I 
Within  this  grove  the  holy  word  hear  chanting  from  the  Ved  ? 
And  who,  when  evening  orisons  and  fiery  offerings  cease, 
Shall  glad  my  heart,  with  filial  hands  encompassing  my  feet  ? 
And  who  shall  bring  the  roots  ana  heros,  the  sylvan  fruits  shall  bring, 
To  thy  blind  parents,  O  my  son,  by  famine  sore  oppressed  f 
O  stay  awhile,  nor  yet  depart  to  Y  ana's  arear  abode. 
With  me  to-morrow  thou  shalt  fare,  shalt  with  thy  mother  go ; 
For  both,  with  sorrow  all  forlorn ,  of  help  and  strength  bereft, 
Full  soon  must  yield  the  breath  of  life,  descending  to  the  shades." 

1  have  already  spoken  of  the  enormous  length  of  the  other 
great  Sanscrit  epic,  —  the  Mahabharata.  It  is  somewhat  more 
recent  in  its  composition  than  the  Ramayana,  and  is  founded 
upon  a  great  civil  war  between  the  Koravas  and  the  Pandavas, 
collateral  descendants  of  Bharata,  an  ancient  king  of  Hastina- 
j »ura,  now  Delhi.    In  this  poem,  again,  we  have  an  incarnatiop 


68  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

of  Vishnu,  bearing  the  name  of  Krishna,  at  once  a  deity  and 
the  champion  of  the  Pandavas.  The  date  of  the  historical 
transactions  on  which  the  poem  is  founded  has  been  fixed  at 
the  fourteenth  century  before  our  era.  It  is  more  episodic 
than  the  other ;  there  is  less  coherence  of  parts,  less  of  order 
and  plan.  Several  of  the  episodes  have  been  separately  pub- 
lished, and  form  complete  and  very  beautiful  poems.  One  of 
these  is  the  Bhagavat-Gita,  a  curious  dialogue,  on  Fate  and  the 
condition  of  man,  between  Krishna  and  one  of  the  heroes, 
Arjuna,  on  the  field  of  battle.  The  conflict  of  the  kindred 
nations  is  about  commencing.  The  leader  of  the  opposing 
host  "  thunders  like  a  roaring  lion,"  and  blows  his  shell  of 
battle,  to  which  the  conchs  and  all  the  warlike  music  of  his 
host  reply.  Arjuna  drives  his  chariot,  drawn  by  white  steeds, 
into  the  space  between  the  armies,  accompanied  by  the  god 
Krishna.  A  feeling  of  sadness  and  sorrow  comes  upon  him, 
and  he  addresses  his  Divine  companion :  — 

"  My  kindred,  Krishna,  I  behold,  all  standing  for  the  battle  armed ; 
My  every  quailing  member  fails,  and  wan  and  withered  is  my  face. 

On  every  side,  0  fair-haired  God,  I  see  the  dark,  ill-omened  signs  ; 
My  kindred  when  I  've  slain  in  fight,  what  happiness  remains  for  me? 
For  victory,  Krishna,  care  not  I,  nor  empire,  nor  the  bliss  of  life ; 
For  what  is  empire,  what  is  wealth,  and  what,  great  king,  is  life  itself, 
When  they  for  whom  we  thirst  for  wealth,  and  toil  for  empire  and  for  bliss. 
Stand  in  the  battle-field  arrayed,  and  freely  peril  wealth  and  life,  — 
Teachers,  sons,  fathers,  grandsires,  uncles,  nephews,  cousins,  kindred,  friends  ? 
Not  for  the  triple  world  would  I,  O  Madhius  !    conqueror,  slaughter  them ; 
How  much  less  for  this  narrow  earth,  though  they  would  sternly  slaughter  me ! " 

Krishna  argues  in  a  reply  which  Mr.  Milman  describes  as 
breathing  "the  terrible  sublime  of  pantheistic  fatalism." 

"  All  undestructible  is  he  that  spread  the  living  universe ; 
And  who  is  he  that  shall  destroy  the  work  of  the  undestructible  * 
Corruptible  these  bodies  are,  that  wrap  the  everlasting  soul,  — 
The  eternal,  unimaginable  soul.     Whence  on  to  battle,  Bharata ! 
For  he  that  thinks  to  slay  the  soul,  and  he  that  thinks  the  soul  is  slain, 
Are  fondly  both  alike  deceived.     It  is  not  slain,  it  slayeth  not ; 
It  is  not  born,  it  doth  not  die ;  past,  present,  future,  knows  it  not ; 


PRIMEVAL   LITERATURE   OF   THE   EAST.  69 

Ancient,  eternal,  and  unchanged,  it  dies  not  with  the  dying  frame. 
Wherefore  the  inevitable  doom  thou  shouldst  not  mourn,  O  Bharata ! " 

The  argument  is  continued  at  great  length  ;  the  compassionate 
reluctance  of  the  mortal  hero  slowly  yields  to  the  mystical 
doctrines  of  the  God ;  the  carnage  proceeds,  the  action  ends 
with  a  battle  which  lasts  eighteen  days,  and  steeps  the  earth  in 
prodigious  slaughter.   Victory  declares  in  favor  of  the  Pandavas. 

Another  remarkable  episode  embodies  the  Hindoo  legend 
of  the  Deluge ;  but  I  have  no  time  to  dwell  on  this.  It  has 
been  well  translated  into  German  by  Bopp. 

I  close  these  considerations  with  a  passage  translated  from  M. 
de  Chezy's  somewhat  extravagant  eulogy  of  Sanscrit  poetry. 

"  It  is  especially  in  epic  poetry  that  the  Sanscrit  language 
appears  to  bear  the  palm  from  every  other;  and  among  the 
epic  poets,  the  great  Valmiki,  in  his  Ramayana,  appears  to 
have  best  understood  the  art  of  unfolding  all  its  beauties. 
Under  his  magic  pencil,  we  see  it  lend  itself,  without  effort,  to 
every  tone  and  all  varieties  of  coloring.  Are  soft  and  melting 
scenes  to  be  described?  This  beautiful  language,  sonorous  as  it 
is  copious,  furnishes  him  the  most  harmonious  expressions ;  and 
like  a  tranquil  stream,  softly  winding  over  moss  and  flowers,  it 
smoothly  bears  our  imagination  along,  and  transports  it  gently 
into  an  enchanted  world.  But  in  subjects  which  require 
energy  and  force,  —  in  the  description  of  battles,  for  example, 
—  his  style  becomes  as  rapid,  as  animated,  as  the  action  itself. 
Cars  roll  and  bound ;  maddened  elephants  dash  their  enormous 
defences  together ;  war-clubs  strike  against  each  other ;  darts 
whiz  and  break ;  death  flies  on  every  side ;  we  no  longer  read, 
we  are  borne  into  the  very  midst  of  the  horrid  fray." 

We  have  thus  taken  a  rapid,  and  necessarily  a  superficial, 
survey  of  the  literary  culture  of  the  remoter  nations  preced- 
ing Homer  or  contemporaneous  with  him.  We  have  followed 
the  track  of  poetry  from  the  Egyptian  temples  and  the  banks 
of  the  Nile,  among  the  primeval  nations  of  Central  Asia,  to  the 
Indus  and  the  Ganges.  We  have  seen  the  first  germs  of 
rhythmical  composition  putting  forth  in  the  sacred  hymns  of 


70  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE  AND   POETBY. 

the  priests  of  Isis  and  Osiris,  and  that  early  form  unfolded 
to  its  beautiful  perfection  in  the  Hebrew  poet  who  sang  the 
sorrows  and  the  triumph  of  the  man  of  Uz.  Coming  upon  the 
direct  line  of  the  Indo-Germanic  races,  we  have  found  a  series 
of  more  copiously  developed  languages,  more  elastic  adapta- 
tions of  sound  to  thought,  more  plastic  materials  of  rhythmical 
composition.  Suddenly,  after  groping  among  the  bricks  of 
Babylon,  the  buried  palaces  of  Nineveh,  the  ruined  castles  of 
Persepolis  and  Pasargada?  —  after  having  paused  to  read  the 
rocky  page  and  sculptured  heights  of  the  consecrated  mount  of 
Bagistan,  —  we  pass  into  the  mysterious  realm  of  Ormuzd  and 
Ahriman,  with  their  ministers  of  grace  and  ministers  of  evil. 
From  the  half  discerned  forms  in  that  far-off  land  and  pri- 
meval time,  suddenly  we  emerge,  at  the  eastern  extremity 
of  the  Indo-European  line,  into  the  brilliant  light  of  a  literature 
commencing  before  any  authentic  date  of  European  history, 
and  pouring  out  its  abundant  streams  through  an  unexampled 
series  of  centuries.     Here  we  suspmd  our  adventurous  flight. 


LECTURE  V. 

THE  EARLIEST  GREEK  POETRY  —THE  HOMERIC  POEMM 

In  my  last  lecture  I  gave  a  rapid  view  of  that  literature, 
which,  in  its  several  stages,  bears  the  most  striking  resem- 
blance to  the  Greek.  Though  the  Sanscrit  must  be  considered 
as  the  elder,  both  as  a  language  and  a  literature ;  yet,  for  a 
large  part  of  the  literary  age  of  both,  they  were  contemporary. 
The  brilliant  era  of  Vikramditya  was  several  centuries  later 
than  the  culminating  period  of  Athenian  letters  and  art ;  fall- 
ing a  little  before  the  Augustan  age  of  the  Romans.  Outward 
circumstances  and  political  institutions  fully  explain  the  con- 
trasts that  present  themselves  in  the  midst  of  general  corre- 
spondence and  agreement.  The  races  that  peopled  Greece 
had  a  longer  march  from  the  common  centre,  and  a  harder 
Struggle  after  they  had  reached  their  appointed  seats. 

The  ante-historical  periods  of  Greece  are  filled  with  a  con- 
fused and  confounding  mass  of  traditions,  which  historians,  an- 
tiquarians, philologists,  in  vain  attempt  to  separate  and  arrange 
in  any  coherent  order  or  intelligible  system.  The  unsettled 
state  of  Greece  is  well  described  by  Thucydides ;  but  his  view 
is  limited  to  Greece  itself.  The  causes  of  the  commotions 
within  the  boundaries  of  the  country  he  points  out  in  that  phil- 
osophical spirit  which  so  largely  characterizes  his  immortal 
work ;  but  he  does  not  trace  their  connections  with  the  great 
northern  and  eastern  world  beyond. 

If  we  examine  a  map  of  Greece,  we  see  that  not  only  are 
the  northern  regions  marked  off  into  defined  physical  sections, 
framed  in  by  crossing  chains  of  mountains  that  embrace  the 
valley-basin  of  the  rivers ;  but,  as  we  proceed  southward,  their 


72  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

size  ana  regularity  diminish,  while  their  general  conformation 
continues  nearly  the  same.  These  framed  valleys  were  filled 
by  the  earliest  waves  of  migration  that  poured  in  from  the 
North,  on  their  western  march  from  the  centre  of  Asia.  The 
migrations  coming  in  at  different  periods  each  pressed  upon  its 
predecessor,  and  each  brought  a  condition  of  language  and  of 
general  culture  more  advanced  than  had  belonged  to  those 
who  had  left  their  primeval  abodes  at  an  earlier  period.  At 
length  the  country,  down  to  its  southern  extremities,  is  filled 
with  a  population  of  various  stocks,  and  as  dense  as  its  scantily 
unfolded  resources  will  support.  When  the  arts  of  agricuU 
ture  and  the  forms  of  civil  life  have  made  some  progress,  the 
characteristics  of  these  physically  severed  communities  begin  to 
display  themselves.  Still  the  crowding  from  the  North  con- 
tinues, and  half-formed  polities  are  uprooted  by  overpowering 
numbers,  and  seek  other  abodes  beyond  the  mountains  or  across 
the  sea.  Meanwhile  Phoenician  mariners  come  with  their 
fleets  and  merchandise  to  trade  with  the  tribes  and  nations  that 
have  so  long  wandered  through  the  forests,  among  the  moun- 
tains, or  along  the  river-sides.  The  names  of  these  tribes  and 
their  chieftains,  the  traditions  of  their  sufferings  and  achieve- 
ments, the  legends  of  their  origin  from  some  supernatural  be- 
ing, are  handed  down  or  rudely  recorded;  but  so  many  tales 
of  wonder  gradually  weave  themselves  into  the  tissue,  that  it 
loses  its  reality  and  passes  into  a  myth.  The  traditions  mostly 
rest  upon  a  basis  of  fact ;  but  to  separate  fact  from  fiction 
transcends  the  highest  powers  of  criticism.  I  shall  not  under- 
take to  say  whence  came  the  elder  heroes  of  the  mythical 
lines,  or  where  dwelt  each  particular  race,  whose  forms,  magni- 
fied by  the  exaggerations  of  tradition,  figure  in  poetry  as 
supernatural  beings,  —  as  demigods  and  gods.  These  races 
and  their  leaders  did,  however,  in  the  course  of  time,  and  at 
periods  of  indeterminate  date,  settle  down  in  these  definitely 
marked  physical  regions,  and  did  therein  unfold  the  societies, 
the  mythologies,  and  the  heroic  tales,  which  lie  in  the  back- 
ground, behind  and  beyond  the  pictures  of  the  Iliad  and 
Odyssey. 


TH1    EAELIEST    GREEK   POETRY.  78 

To  this  primeval  period  belong  those  gigantic  Pelasgian 
works,  which  are  found  not  only  in  Greece,  but  east  and 
west  of  this  classic  centre,  proving  the  existence,  the  activity, 
and  the  civilization  of  European  races  whose  monuments  were 
antiquities  in  the  days  of  Homer.  I  venture  —  despite  the  un- 
certainty that  hangs  over  the  origin  and  fortunes  of  the  Pelas- 
gians,  who  have  given  so  much  trouble  to  historians  and  an- 
tiquaries —  to  designate  by  this  term  all  those  migrations, 
whether  by  sea  or  land,  and  all  those  elements  of  language, 
art,  religion,  and  social  life  which  preceded  the  Hellenic  proper, 
by  which  I  shall  denote  the  immediate  basis  of  Greek  cul- 
ture, both  before  the  line  of  ascertained  history  commences, 
and  through  the  successive  ages  of  Grecian  letters  and  life. 
By  some  of  the  Greeks,  the  Pelasgic  element  was  thought 
radically  distinct  from  the  Hellenic,  and  the  Pelasgic  language 
a  barbarous  speech  wholly  distinct  from  any  form  of  the 
Hellenic.  By  others,  some  vague  notion  of  the  real  and 
radical  identity  of  the  two  was  entertained.  The  broader 
views  of  the  modei'ns  place  this  identity  quite  beyond  a  doubt. 
The  Pelasgians  of  Greece  and  those  of  the  farther  East,  I  be- 
lieve it  must  be  admitted,  came  often  into  conflict  and  collision 
by  sea.  The  coasts  of  Asia  Minor  were  visited  by  ships  long 
before  the  earliest  war  of  Troy  recorded  in  the  Iliad ;  and  on 
the  shores  of  Greece  hovered  many  a  fleet,  long  before  the 
Phoenician  sailors  kidnapped  and  carried  away  the  daughter  of 
the  Argive  king,  and  so,  according  to  the  tradition  recorded  by 
Herodotus,  laid  the  foundation  for  those  hostilities  out  of  which 
sprang  the  Trojan  war,  from  which  afterwards  followed  the 
Persian  Invasions,  and  later  still  the  campaigns  of  Alexander. 

I  draw  the  line,  then,  between  the  Pelasgic  or  primitive 
basis,  and  the  Hellenic  or  historical  superstructure  of  Greek 
life,  nationality,  art,  letters,  and  poetry ;  and  I  am  inclined  to 
the  opinion  that  even  in  those  remote  and  primitive  times  cor- 
responding with  the  older  dynasties  of  Egypt,  with  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Phoenicians  on  the  east  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea, 
with  the  primitive  patriarchs  of  the  Arabian  races,  with  the 


74  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETR\. 

first  monarchs  and  earlier  arts  of  the  Brahmins  and  the  Chi 
nese,  there  existed  on  the  soil  of  Greece  religious  centres, 
hymns  and  songs  of  temple  worship,  and  a  written  language 

The  Hellenic  stage,  in  its  earliest  form,  represents  the  migra- 
tions that  left  the  Asiatic  homes  at  a  more  advanced  period  of 
culture,  and,  blending  with  those  which  had  preceded  them, 
gradually  wrought  out  a  higher  intellectual  life  and  a  nobler 
language,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  that  poetical  literature 
which  has  filled  the  world  with  its  fame.  To  some  extent  I 
admit  that  this  is  a  matter  of  speculation ;  but  the  view  in  its 
broad  outlines  is  sustained  by  tradition,  monuments,  physical 
geography,  and  local  relations. 

Within  the  Hellenic  period  I  include  the  establishment  of 
those  kingdoms  and  royal  houses  whose  fates  and  fortunes  are 
the  theme  of  so  many  later  tragedies ;  —  the  Theban  race  of 
Labdacus,  whose  sorrows  are  immortalized  in  so  many  stately 
strains  of  jEschylus  and  Sophocles ;  the  races  of  Hercules, 
Theseus,  Eurystheus,  and  Panthous;  the  line  of  the  Pelopidae, 
and  all  those  other  mighty  names  which  fill  the  legendary 
and  heroic  ages  of  Greece,  and  dimly  shadow  forth  the  actions 
and  events  that  finally  shaped  the  Hellenic  character.  Even 
in  those  early  times  we  find  the  Hellenic  genius  widely  differ- 
ing from  the  Oriental  types,  —  from  the  Egyptian,  the  Ara- 
bian, the  Zend,  the  Hindoo.  The  mythologies  of  the  East, 
founded  on  the  powers  of  nature,  but  rising  to  forms  of  mon- 
strous shape  and  uncouth  horrors  of  expression,  have  given 
place  to  more  pleasing  and  imaginative  creations,  from  which 
the  poets  afterward  framed  their  Olympian  deities,  and  the 
sculptors  chiselled  their  marble  gods.  The  system  of  caste 
has  either  disappeared,  or  left  but  faint  traces  in  the  princely 
and  priestly  families  which  stand  at  the  head  of  those  ancient 
tribes.  The  Brahmin  has  gone,  and  in  his  place  has  succeeded 
the  singer,  the  moral  teacher,  or  the  giver  of  oracles  from  the 
shrine  or  tripod  of  the  God.  That  terrific  fate  which  crushed 
to  the  earth  Arjuna's  spirit  on  the  battle-field  no  longer  chains 
the  moral  freedom  of  man,  but  has  yielded  to  a  power,  awfu' 


THE  EARLIEST  GREEK  POETRY.  75 

ind  mysterious  indeed,  but  lying  far  away,  —  vaguely  con 
ceived,  at  one  moment,  as  controlling  the  course  of  the  world, 
at  another,  as  separated  from  human  affairs  by  the  interposing 
power  of  Zeus.  In  earthly  life  the  seraglio  in  its  thousand 
forms,  and  polygamy  with  its  attendant  wrongs  and  horrors, 
have  been  strangely  supplanted  by  the  idea  of  domestic  life 
and  the  single  marriage  tie.  Are  not  these  changes  wonder- 
ful ?  Do  they  not  figure  to  our  minds  a  great  progress  in 
moral  and  intellectual  culture,  beyond  that  of  all  the  Asiatic 
branches  of  the  Indo-Germanic  stock,  and  in  some  respects 
beyond  that  of  the  Hebrews  themselves? 

Such,  in  a  few  words,  I  conceive  to  have  been  the  condition 
of  the  tribes  or  nations  that  filled  the  peninsula  of  Greece,  at 
the  period  at  which  we  must  place  the  events,  whatever  they 
were,  that  laid  the  basis  of  the  Trojan  war,  and  all  the  le- 
gends connected  with  that  tale  of  wonder. 

Contemporary,  or  nearly  so,  with  the  epoch  of  the  Hellenic  le- 
gends, we  have  the  mighty  monarchies  of  Assyria  and  Babylon, 
whose  early  splendors  still  amaze  the  world,  in  their  architec- 
tural and  sculptural  monuments :  the  flourishing  ages  of  Phoe- 
1  icia,  who  gathered  the  wealth  of  the  world  in  her  magnificent 
cities  of  Tyre  and  Sidon,  and  carried  her  commerce  to  every 
quarter  of  the  then  known  world ;  Egypt  already  an  ancient 
kingdom,  and  perhaps  drawing  nigh  the  period  of  her  decline ; 
the  states  of  Italy,  with  their  Oriental  types  of  civilization,  con- 
solidating into  permanent  forms  of  civil  and  religious  polity ; 
Thrace  and  Scythia  crowded  with  tribes  of  roaming  barbari- 
ans, assailing  from  time  to  time  the  growing  civilization  of  the 
South  ;  Asia  Minor  occupied  by  Trojan,  Phrygian,  and  Lydian 
kingdoms ;  and  along  the  Indus  and  the  Ganges,  those  popu- 
lous and  ancient  monarchies,  even  then  embellished  with  let- 
ters and  philosophy. 

This  period  is  filled  with  supernatural  legends  and  the 
achievements  of  the  demigods ;  and  here,  I  think,  we  are  tc 
place  the  first  establishment  of  those  religious  centres  whence 
Mowed  the  earlier  streams  of  Grecian  song  in  the  North,  —  Olym- 


76  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

pus,  Dodona,  and  Delphi,  —  where  the  magnificent  hexameter 
was  first  used,  having  been  invented  by  Phemonoe,  the  priest- 
ess. Here  we  must  place  Orpheus,  who  drew  after  him  ani- 
mals and  trees,  and  softened  the  inexorable  deities  of  hell  by 
the  magic  of  his  strains ;  and  Amphion,  who  turned  his  lyre 
to  the  more  practical  purpose  of  building  cities,  forcing  the 
blocks  of  stone  to  leap  to  their  places  as  he  touched  the  strings. 

Advancing  one  period  further,  we  find  the  armaments  of 
Greece  uniting  to  avenge  the  insulted  honor  of  a  royal  house. 
The  Trojan  war  has  been  usually  placed,  by  a  kind  of  compro- 
mise between  extreme  opinions,  in  the  twelfth  century  before 
our  era.  I  shall  not  venture  to  say  how  much  of  historic  truth 
may  be  hidden  in  a  story  which  some  have  considered  a  mere 
poetical  invention ;  but  it  seems  to  me  quite  probable,  if  not 
certain,  that  the  germ  at  least  of  this  famous  transaction  is  one 
of  a  series  of  expeditions,  military  or  migratory,  which  brought 
the  tenants  of  the  opposite  shores  of  the  ^Egean  Sea  into  con- 
tact or  collision ;  and  as  genealogical  registers  were  carefully 
kept  throughout  the  Oriental  world,  I  see  not  why  there  may 
not  have  been  a  foundation  of  truth  for  the  fates  and  fortunes 
of  the  leading  personages. 

In  the  Iliad  there  are  allusions  to  a  former  war  of  Troy 
waged  by  the  progenitors  of  the  race  of  heroes  then  on  the 
stage.  This  intimates  a  series  of  those  movements,  of  which 
the  Homeric  war  was  one.  While  the  South  of  Greece  was 
pressed  by  the  still  inflowing  tide  from  the  Northern  wave,  a 
backward  movement  commenced  by  sea,  and  remingled,  on  the 
western  Asiatic  shores,  Greeks  with  those  from  whom  they  had 
long  been  severed,  and  to  whom  they  had  become  as  strangers. 
At  length,  as  we  approach  the  historic  day,  those  old  Hellenes 
break  upon  us  in  three  divided  yet  related  nationalities,  the 
^Eolians,  Dorians,  and  Ionians.  With  a  common  Hellenic 
bond,  they  still  possess  their  peculiar  characteristics  in  man- 
ners, language,  and  religion.  They  have  been  broken  up, 
more  or  less,  so  that  this  threefold  division  is  not  wholly  ter- 
ritorial ;  but,  to  speak  in  general  terms,  the  Cohans  on  the 


THE  EARLIEST    GREEK  POETRY.  77 

mainland  hold  the  northernmost  regions,  the  Ionians  the  mid- 
dle, and  the  Dorians  the  southern ;  and  when  thty  returned 
again  towards  the  old  Asiatic  homestead,  the  islands  of  the 
^Egean  and  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor  presented  three  tiers  of 
colonies,  standing  in  the  same  local  relations,  —  the  JEolians 
on  the  north,  the  Ionians  in  the  middle,  and  the  Dorians  in 
the  south.  Thus  we  have  three  subordinate  type^s  of  civili- 
zation, early  forming  themselves  in  those  regions  where  the 
energetic  races,  trained  to  hardihood  by  their  long  wanderings 
in  the  North,  Were  brought  face  to  face  with  the  arts  and  lux- 
uries of  Asia.  The  Greek  colonial  migrations  here  briefly 
described,  which  are  placed  a  century  or  a  century  and  a  half 
after  the  Trojan  war,  I  regard  as  belonging  to  a  series  of  move- 
ments commencing  long  before,  and  distinguished  from  those 
that  preceded  them  only  by  their  greater  extent  and  impor- 
tance. They,  however,  furnished  the  basis  for  the  earlier 
forms  of  authentic  Greek  literature. 

I  shall  have  another  occasion  to  speak  of  their  characters 
somewhat  more  in  detail,  and  of  the  manner  in  which  they 
were  remoulded,  as  it  were,  by  long  contact  with  the  vices 
of  Asiatic  civilization.  At  present,  I  content  myself  with  the 
remark  that  the  Ionians  and  iEolians  had  reached  a  higher 
point  in  culture  than  the  Dorians ;  and  of  these  two,  the  Ioni- 
ans surpassed  the  .iEolians.  Doubtless  they  all  brought  with 
them  essentially  the  same  language  ;  but  the  Ionians  had  found 
the  means  of  drawing  from  it  richer  tones  than  their  neigh- 
bors. The  earliest  poetical  forms,  on  the  Grecian  mainland, 
were  doubtless  the  religious  teachings  and  oracular  utterances 
of  the  priestly  guides ;  the  next,  the  songs  of  bards  in  honor 
of  the  warlike  deeds  of  leaders  and  kings.  For  one  class,  we 
have  the  authority  of  tradition  ;  for  the  other,  the  luminous 
representations  of  Homer.  In  this  way  the  poetical  resources 
of  the  language  were  unfolded ;  groups  of  heroic  characters 
were  gradually  formed ;  and  a  body  of  poetical  literature,  like 
the  popular  ballads  of  Scotland,  England,  Germany,  Modern 
Greece,  came  into  existence,  and  had  a  wide  currency,  pass- 


f8  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

ing  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  held  in  the  memory  of  singers 
and  listeners  from  generation  to  generation.  One  thing  shows 
conclusively  that  such  must  have  been  the  case.  I  mean  the 
state  of  the  language  as  it  came  to  the  hands  of  the  first  Chian 
bards ;  and  this  is  a  point  which  I  have  never  seen  illustrated. 
Its  close  resemblance,  even  in  many  of  its  minutest  peculiari- 
ties, to  the  Sanscrit,  shows  that  these  were  not  unfolded  among 
the  Ionians,  but  long  before,  at  a  period  of  time  much  nearer 
to  the  original  separation  of  the  races.  In  the  colonial  socie- 
ties, all  the  traditions  of  former  times,  and  all  the  ballads  of 
the  Grecian  mainland,  were  fondly  cherished ;  and  in  the  sud- 
den splendor  to  which  they  rose  in  that  heaven-favored  cli- 
mate, those  national  minstrelsies  served  to  delight  the  listening 
multitudes,  at  the  religious  or  popular  assemblies,  in  the  halls 
of  nobles  and  princes,  and  on  all  occasions  which  brought  men 
together.  Here  were  revived  the  achievements  of  their  ances- 
tors, in  a  land  to  them  far  off,  —  at  a  time  when,  to  their  vivid 
imaginations,  the  gods  came  down  and  walked  with  mortals. 
In  this  sketch  I  make  no  allusion  to  the  employment  of  writing ; 
not  because  I  suppose  the  art  to  have  been  unknown,  but  be- 
cause I  believe  that  the  popular  minstrelsies,  at  this  stage  of 
their  progress,  took  precisely  the  same  form,  in  precisely  the 
same  manner,  with  bodies  of  popular  minstrelsy  in  historical 
times ;  and  that,  until  the  permanent  settlement  of  the  Ionian 
colonies,  the  state  of  no  Hellenic  race  was  sufficiently  stable  to 
permit  the  growth  of  a  written  literature. 

In  Ionia,  the  popular  enthusiasm  took  a  poetical  turn,  and 
the  genius  of  that  richly-gifted  race  responded  nobly  to  the 
call.  The  poets  —  singers  as  they  were  first  called  —  found  in 
the  orally  transmitted  ballads  the  richest  mines  of  legendary 
lore,  which  they  wrought  into  new  forms  of  rhythmical  beauty 
and  poetical  splendor.  Instead  of  short  ballads,  pieces  of  greater 
length,  with  more  fully  developed  characters  and  more  of  dra- 
matic action,  were  required  by  a  beauty-loving  and  pleasure- 
seeking  race.  The  leisure  of  peace  and  the  demands  of  refined 
luxury  furnished  the  occasion  an4  the  impelling  motive  to  th;* 


THE   EARLIEST    GREEK   POETRY.  79 

more  extended  species  of  epic  song.  It  was  the  rhythmical 
recital  of  these  /cXea  avSpwv  —  Lays  of  Men  —  and  of  hymns 
to  the  gods,  performed  in  choral  dances  near  the  altars  and 
shrines,  at  the  panegyrical  gatherings,  which  was  to  them 
theatre,  opera,  concert,  sacred  and  secular. 

Thus  the  Grecian  epic  was  a  species  of  story-telling,  nearly 
as  abundant  as  the  modern  novel,  for  the  entertainment  of 
assemblies  of  men,  on  festive  occasions,  in  princely  halls,  at 
Amphictyonic  gatherings,  or  at  religious  solemnities.  It  wras 
delivered  in  a  kind  of  musical  recitative,  with  a  slight  accompa- 
niment of  the  phorminx,  like  the  minstrelsy  of  the  Minne- 
singers and  Troubadours,  who  sang  to  the  cithern  in  the 
baronial  castles  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

Thia  is  the  first,  most  racy,  most  original  epic  poetry.  Its 
proper  objects  of  comparison  are  the  ballads  of  England,  Spain,  * 
and  Germany ;  one  step  farther  in  advance,  the'  noble  epic 
fragment  in  the  old  Spanish,  called  the  Poem  of  the  Cid ;  and 
in  a  more  fully  unfolded  form  of  the  epic  spirit,  —  though 
encompassed  writh  clouds  and  mist,  and  thus  widely  distin- 
guished from  the  sunbright  clearness  of  the  Ionian  epic, — 
the  German  lay  of  the  Nibelungen.  The  elaborate  works  — 
called  epic  poems  —  of  Dante,  Milton,  Tasso,  Klopstock,  great 
as  they  are,  are  not  in  this  sense  epic.  They  are  the  reflective 
products  of  strongly  moved,  impassioned  natures,  enriched 
with  genius,  creative  power,  and  all  human  learning,  working 
upon  materials  gathered  from  a  thousand  quarters  besides 
the  lore  of  popular  tradition,  —  not  upon  ideas  that  touch  the 
chords  of  instant  national  sympathy  and  the  common  heart. 
They  are  works  written  to  be  read,  not  created  to  be  heard. 
They  do  not  connect  themselves  closely  with  an  unbroken  ' 
series  of  minor  minstrelsies,  which  thev  take  up  into  them- 
selves and  transfigure  by  combining  them  into  works  of 
larger  grasp,  nobler  plan,  more  skilful  execution,  —  the  bright 
consummate  flower  of  the  human  mind  in  this  particular  field 
>f  its  activity.  It  is  not  every  nation  that  passes,  in  its  epic 
<tage,  to  the  highest  organic  growth.     To  two  languages  onlv 


80  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

has  it  been  given  to  become  vehicles  of  the  true  and  nationa 
epic,  —  the  Sanscrit  and  the  Greek.  To  one  alone  has  it  been 
given  to  unfold  the  epic,  in  the  highest  perfection  of  taste,  as 
well  as  the  fullest  and  the  deepest  inspiration  and  the  most 
refined  execution  ;  and  that  language  is  the  Greek,  —  those 
epics  are  the  poems  of  Homer. 

There  is  a  stage  of  society  in  which  the  influences  are  most 
favorable  for  poetical  composition.  It  is  when  a  race  of  men, 
following  the  instincts  of  civilization,  have  reached  a  state  of 
social  refinement,  and  have  not  yet  become  corrupted  by  lux- 
ury. It  is  at  the  stage  of  progress  next  following  great 
struggles  in  the  formation  or  preservation  of  the  state.  It  is 
when  the  powers  of  intellect  are  keenly  alive  to  the  observation 
of  human  character  and  passion  and  the  destinies  of  men,  and 
before  philosophers  have  arisen  to  take  this  lore  out  of  its  vital 
connection,  and  mould  it  into  artifical  systems  of  metaphysics. 
At  this  stage  of  culture,  language  has  ceased  to  be  rude  and 
meagre,  but  is  still  marked  by  its  primitive  and  picturesque 
significancy ;  for  the  numerous  secondary  meanings,  which 
multiplied  social  relations  and  scientific  abstractions  in  the 
course  of  time  impart  to  words,  have  not  yet  confused  or 
effaced  the  images  which  they  at  first  presented.  The  woi'ks 
of  Chaucer,  Shakespeare,  and  Massinger  have  a  truth  to  na- 
ture, a  clearness  and  graphic  power,  a  directness,  force,  and 
freshness,  more  like  the  Homeric  Greek  than  any  other  phase 
of  our  ever-enriching  language.  The  Ionian,  remoulded  from 
the  Asiatic  forms  and  elements  which  had  travelled  through 
ne  North  and  recrossed  the  jEgean  Sea,  under  the  happy  in- 
fluences of  a  serene  and  beautiful  heave'n,  amidst  the  most 
varied  and  lovely  scenery  in  nature,  by  a  people  of  manly  vigor 
and  exquisite  mental  and  physical  organization,  of  the  keenest 
susceptibility  to  beauty  of  sound  as  well  as  of  form,  of  the  most 
vivid  and  creative  imagination,  combined  with  a  child-like  in> 
pulsiveness  and  simplicity,  —  this  Ionian  language,  so  sprung 
and  so  nurtured,  had  attained  a  descriptive  force,  a  copiousness 
and  harmony,  which  made  it  the  most  admirable  instrument  ov 


THE  EABLIEST   GREEK   POETRY.  81 

which  poet  ever  played.  For  every  mood  of  mind,  every 
shade  of  passion,  every  affection  of  the  heart,  every  form  and 
aspect  of  the  outward  world,  it  had  its  graphic  phrase,  its  clear, 
appropriate,  and  rich  expression.  Its  pictured  words  and  sen- 
tences placed  the  things  described  and  thoughts  that  breathe, 
in  living  form,  before  the  reader's  eye  and  mind.  It  was  vivid, 
rich,  melodious ;  in  its  general  character,  strikingly  concrete 
and  objective ;  a  charm  to  the  ear,  a  delight  to  the  imagina- 
tion ;  copious  and  infinitely  flexible ;  free  and  graceful  in  move- 
ment and  structure,  having  at  the  beginning  passed  over  the 
chords  of  the  lyre,  and  been  modulated  by  the  living  voice  of 
the  singer ;  obeying  the  impulse  of  thought  and  feeling,  rather 
than  the  formal  principles  of  grammar.  It  expressed  the  pas- 
sions of  robust  manhood  with  artless  and  unconscious  truth. 
Its  freedom,  its  voluble  minuteness  of  delineation,  its  rapid 
changes  of  construction,  its  breaks,  pauses,  significant  and 
sudden  transitions,  its  easy  irregularities,  exhibit  the  intellect- 
ual play  of  national  youth,  while  in  boldness  and  splendor  it 
meets  the  demands  of  the  highest  invention  and  the  most  ma- 
jestic sweep  of  the  imagination,  and  bears  the  impress  of  genius 
in  the  full  strength  of  its  maturity.  Frederic  Jacobs  says,  fan- 
cifully, yet  truly,  that  "  the  language  of  Ionia  resembles  the 
smooth  mirror  of  a  broad  and  silent  lake,  from  whose  depth  a 
serene  sky,  with  its  soft  and  sunny  vault,  and  the  varied  nature 
along  its  smiling  shores,  are  reflected  in  transfigured  beauty." 
a  Ionia,  to  borrow  the  expressions  of  the  same  eloquent 
writer,  the  mind  of  man  "  enjoyed  a  life  exempt  from  drudg- 
ery, among  fair  festivals  and  solemn  assemblies,  full  of  ser- 
sibility  and  frolic  joy,  innocent  curiosity  and  childlike  faith. 
Surrendered  to  the  outer  world,  and  inclined  to  all  that  was 
attractive  by  novelty,  beauty,  and  greatness,  it  was  here  that 
the  people  listened,  with  greatest  eagerness,  to  the  history  of 
the  men  and  heroes,  whose  deeds,  adventures,  and  wanderings 
filled  a  former  age  with  their  renown,  and,  when  they  were 
(echoed  in  song,  moved  to  ecstasy  the  breasts  of  the  hearers." 
At  this  age  —  about  1000  B.  C. — and  in  this  realm  of  the 

VOL.    I.  6 


82  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE-  AND   POETRY. 

lovely  iEgean  islands  and  the  Asiatic  shores,  epic  poetry  passed 
from  the  ballad  form  to  the  completeness  of  the  art  in  the  Iliad 
and  Odyssey.  These  two  immortal  poems,  which  embody  the 
entire  poetic  life  of  the  age,  have  come  down  to  us  with  the 
accumulated  admiration  of  all  the  intervening  centuries.  An- 
tiquity paid  divine  honors  to  the  name  of  Homer,  and  seven 
rival  cities  contended  for  the  glory  of  having  given  him  birth. 
Artists  embodied  in  marble  their  conception  of  the  features  of 
that  marvellously  gifted  man  ;  and  some  of  these  noble  por- 
traits, worthily  representing  the  blind  old  singer  of  Chios,  have 
come  down  to  our  day.  Whether  there  is  anything  of  historical 
truth  in  them  we  cannot  say.  From  these  poems  the  ablest 
critics  inferred  the  laws  and  cited  the  normal  examples  of  poet- 
ical composition.  The  cities  of  Greece  had  their  copies,  under 
the  authority  of  the  state,  which  the  treasures  of  kings  could 
not  buy.  The  greatest  poets  of  succeeding  times  were  proud 
to  confess  that  they  drank  in  their  inspiration  from  the  inex- 
haustible Homeric  fountain.  The  most  magnificent  festivals 
of  the  most  refined  city  in  the  world  were  graced  by  the 
public  delivery,  with  suitable  pomp  of  accompaniment,  of  these 
already  ancient  works.  The  most  advanced  minds  acknowl- 
edged their  fealty  to  the  old  master,  by  giving  their  best  ener- 
gies to  the  correction  and  preservation  of  his  text. 

Yet  modern  criticism  has  ventured  to  set  aside  all  these 
unquestionable  facts,  and  a  famous  theory  of  the  origin  and 
character  of  these  poems,  previously  suggested  in  some  of  its 
outlines  as  by  Battista  Vico,  but  unfolded  with  marvellous 
learning  and  power  by  Wolf,  the  greatest  of  modern  scholars, 
had  for  a  time  wide  currency.  It  would  be  tedious  to  enter 
largely  into  this  discussion  now ;  but  some  of  its  leading  fea- 
tures belong  to  my  subject,  and  I  will  briefly  state  them.  Cer- 
tain Greek  critics  of  later  times  expressed  a  doubt  whether  the 
Iliad  and  Odyssey  were  the  works  of  the  same  author ;  but 
the  overpo  wering  weight  of  the  best  opinion  was  on  the  side  of 
unity  of  origin.  Again,  there  were  traditions  that,  when  these 
poems  first  became   known   to  the  continental   Greeks,  they 


THE   HOMERIC   POEMS.  8& 

existed  in  a  broken  state,  and  were  collected  and  rearranged, 
once  by  Lycurgus  at  Sparta  and  afterwards  by  Peisistratus  at 
Athens.  Another  tradition  was,  that  they  were  preserved  in 
the  memory  of  the  rhapsodists,  and  not  reduced  to  writing 
until  a  later  period. 

The  basis  of  fact  on  which  all  these  traditions  rest  has  been 
immensely  enlarged  by  modern  scholars.  Even  Frederic  Ja- 
cobs, led  away  by  the  Wolfian  theory,  says,  in  his  eloquent 
manner :  "  Writing  conquers  speaking,  and  kills  it  dead. 
The  lyre  is  silenced,  and  lives  only  as  a  figure  of  speech  in 
written  odes ;  song  dies  in  the  musical  sign ;  and  the  written 
precept  soars  proud  and  cold  over  the  surrounding  scene,  away 
to  a  remote  and  wide-extended  world,  and  often  beyond  the 

present,  directly  to  coming  generations Almost  five 

centuries  had  gone,  before  the  poems  of  Homer  were  impris- 
oned in  written  characters ;  and  even  then,  mindful  of  their 
original  destination,  they  flowed  more  sweetly  from  the  tongue 
to  the  ear."  The  theory  has  been  carried  out  to  the  extent, 
first,  of  denying  the  personal  existence  of  Homer,  and  resolv- 
ing his  name  into  an  etymology.  Next,  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey 
are  not  whole  works  of  Homer,  or  of  any  one  else,  but  dis- 
connected compositions,  happening  to  be  on  such  subjects  that 
they  were  capable  of  being  strung  together,  in  something  like 
connection.  And  finally,  it  is  alleged  that  the  art  of  writ- 
ing was  not  known  at  all  in  Greece  and  Ionia  in  that  age,  or, 
if  known,  that  the  materials  were  so  scarce,  cumbrous,  and 
costly  that  the  art  was  unavailable  for  literary  purposes,  and 
employed,  if  employed  at  all,  only  for  public  inscriptions  on 
wood  and  stone.  Moreover,  the  possibility  of  keeping  so  large 
a  mass  of  poetical  composition  in  the  memory  alone  is  supposed 
o  be  proved  by  certain  well-authenticated  marvellous  feats  of 
hat  faculty.  This  view  is  supported  by  the  non-existence  of 
ontemporary  inscriptions  or  other  documents,  which  might 
and  would  have  proved  the  use  of  the  art,  had  it  been  used  in 
the  age  which  is  supposed  to  have  produced  the  Homeric 
poems.     The  same  view  is  supposed  to  be  further  sustained  by 


84  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

internal  evidence,  —  by  a  want  of  coherent  relation  between 
the  parts,  by  inequalities  of  style,  by  discrepancies  in  the  de- 
scriptions of  manners,  by  contradictions,  and  by  numerous 
other  minute  indications,  which  the  sagacity  of  criticism  has 
traced  out.  This  brief  statement  contains  the  substance  of  the 
Homeric  question,  as  it  has  been  handled  by  various  writers. 
I  do  not  wish  to  take  up  the  subordinate  distinctions  it  has 
assumed  with  particular  schools  of  critics ;  as  to  whether,  for 
instance,  the  Iliad  was  wrought  out  in  this  way,  and  the  Odys- 
sey was  the  work  of  one  author  of  a  much  later  date ;  and 
whether  the  Iliad  is  a  series  of  disconnected  rhapsodies,  or  a 
mass  of  accretions  formed  upon  an  epic  nucleus,  —  the  Achil- 
leis,  —  until  it  reached  its  present  extent.  To  consider  all 
these  aspects  of  the  question  would  lead  me  into  a  labyrinth 
of  discussion  too  intricate  for  this  occasion. 

To  these  arguments  I  answer :  —  1.  No  person  in  the  exer- 
cise of  common  sense  would  ever  suspect,  while  reading  the 
Iliad  or  Odyssey,  a  want  of  unity,  completeness,  or  coherence. 
This  is  substantially  admitted  by  Wolf  himself,  who  eloquently 
describes  the  charm  by  which  the  continuity  of  interest  hur- 
ried him  along,  whenever  he  gave  up  his  critical  questioning, 
and  surrendered  himself  to  the  spirit  of  the  poetry. 

2.  Contradictions,  inequalities,  and  incoherences  to  an  equal 
extent  may  be  found,  and  have  been  found,  in  the  best  authors, 
and  therefore  prove  nothing,  or  too  much.  The  critical  dogma, 
as  stated  by  Hermann,  is,  "  that  no  two  passages  of  the  same 
work,  contradictory  to  or  irreconcilable  with  each  other,  can 
be  by  one  and  the  same  author."  Applying  this  to  the  uEneid 
of  Virgil,  there  would  be  at  least  nine  authors ;  about  as  many 
to  Milton's  Paradise  Lost ;  more  than  a  hundred  to  Don 
Quixote ;  and  three  or  four  to  each  of  Walter  Scott's  novels. 
In  "  The  Antiquary,"  the  scene  is  laid  on  the  eastern  coast  of 
Scotland;  but  in  the  adventure  of  the  storm  the  sun  sets  on 
the  sea.  Either,  therefore,  the  sun  must  set  in  the  east  in  Sir 
Walter's  astronomy,  or  this  chapter  is  by  a  different  hand. 

3.  Internal  evidence  of  ungenuineness  or  genuineness,  founded 


THE   HOMERIC   POEMS  85 

on  mere  style,  is  the  most  deceptive  in  its  nature,  and  the  least 
to  be  relied  upon,  of  every  species  of  literary  proof.  It  is  not 
many  years  since  a  poetical  work  of  high  merit,  k*  The  New 
Tiinon,"  was  published  anonymously  in  London ;  and  though 
written  by  an  author  whose  style  is  very  peculiar,  its  author- 
ship long  remained  a  secret,  while  internal  evidence  caused  it 
to  be  ascribed  to  many  writers  widely  different  from  one 
another.  Here  criticism  was  called  upon  to  decide  a  question 
of  authorship,  in  the  mother  tongue,  in  our  own  day,  in  a  city 
where  the  writer  was  living  among  his  literary  compeers ;  and 
criticism,  with  the  strongest  possible  internal  evidence,  failed  to 
solve  the  problem.  It  is  needless  to  remark,  how  much  less 
tangible  the  problem  becomes,  when  the  question  is  transferred 
to  an  ancient  language,  a  distant  country,  and  a  remote  age. 

4.  The  non-existence  of  documents  proves  only  their  pres- 
ent non-existence.  The  objection  is,  moreover,  too  absolutely 
stated.  The  poets  of  the  seventh  and  eighth  century  B.  C, 
allude  to  Homer  and  to  writing.  Pausanias  describes  an  heir- 
loom in  the  royal  family  of  Corinth,  —  the  chest  of  Cypselus, 
inscribed  with  hexameters  and  pentameters,  which  he  copies,  and 
which  belong  to  a  period  as  early  as  the  eighth  century  B.  C, 
and  most  probably  considerably  earlier ;  and  there  is  now  in 
existence  a  metallic  plate,  containing  the  Eleian  treaty,  a  docu- 
ment belonging  to  the  seventh  century  B.  C.  These  facts 
not  only  show  the  use  of  writing  in  the  time  of  their  respec- 
tive dates,  but  exhibit  it  as  a  long-practised  and  well-understood 
art,  with  a  completed  alphabetic  character.  But  without  these 
evidences,  the  facts  I  have  given  in  a  former  lecture  to  illus- 
trate the  origin  and  progress  of  alphabetic  writing  in  the  East 
demonstrate  that  the  Greeks  of  Ionia  were  in  constant  in- 
tercourse with  nations,  one  of  which  certainly  had  completed 
the  invention,  and  had  an  abundance  of  cheap  and  convenient 
materials,  at  hast  fifteen  centuries  before  Homer  was  born, 
supposing  him  to  have  been  born  at  all.  If  the  Ionians 
were  not  sufficiently  advanced  in  mechanic  art  to  manufacture 
ne  materials  and  instruments  for  themselves,  their  relations 


86  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

with  Phoenicia  and  Egypt  were  sufficiently  intimate  to  furnish 
them  in  commercial  exchange.  No  one  can  believe  for  a 
moment  that  so  intellectual  a  race  as  the  Asiatic  Greeks  —  a 
race  capable  of  carrying  the  epic  art  to  its  highest  perfection  — 
would  not  have  instantly  adopted  alphabetic  writing  from  their 
neighbors,  even  if  they  had  not,  as  I  believe  they  had,  already 
brought  it  with  them  from  the  Grecian  mainland. 

There  is  one  kind  of  internal  evidence,  however,  which  has 
the  greatest  weight,  and  that  is  the  unity  of  spirit  and  char- 
acter; and  this  evidence  exists  in  the  highest  degree  in  the 
Homeric  poems:  — first,  in  the  broader  sense  of  the  term,  when 
we  look  at  the  poems  as  a  whole  ;  and,  secondly,  when  we  ex- 
amine the  details,  especially  in  the  characters  of  the  heroes  who 
carry  forward  the  action  in  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey.  The  first 
species  of  unity  is  less  conclusive  than  the  second ;  for  there  is 
in  every  literary  age  a  pervading  spirit  that  marks  all  its  liter- 
ary productions ;  and  it  may  be  said,  as  it  has  been  said,  that 
this  proves  only  that  the  Homeric  poems  belong  to  the  same 
epoch,  which  after  all  may  extend  through  several  centuries. 
The  other  species  cannot  be  set  aside  by  this  consideration. 
True,  we  may  suppose  that  the  subject  of  the  Trojan  war  had 
been  already  handled  by  the  ballad-singers,  in  the  age  im- 
mediately following  that  series  of  events,  and  in  hexameter 
verse.  We  must  suppose,  too,  that  the  names  and  exploits  of 
the  heroes  had  already  been  made«familiar  so  far  as  the  Grecian 
name  extended.  Characters,  even,  had  by  degrees  assumed 
their  legendary  types, — like  the  Cid,  in  the  ballads  of  Spain, — 
like  Arthur  and  the  knights  of  the  Round  Table,  —  like  Char- 
lemagne and  his  peers,  —  like  Hagen,  Gunther,  and  Siegfried 
in  the  mediaeval  poetry  of  Germany.  But  it  is  not  in  the  na- 
ture of  ballad  poetry  to  develop  characters  with  minute  and 
careful  study  of  the  nicer  shades.  A  few  broad  outlines  pre- 
sent these  creations  of  the  popular  fancy  to  the  mind ;  but  to 
work  them  out  into  finished  details,  as  the  sculptor  chips  his 
marble  into  the  exquisite  forms  of  a  Venus  or  Apollo,  is  a  work 
»f  trained  poetic  art  under  the  guidance  of  principles  which 


THE   HOMERIC   POEMS.  87 

have  resulted  from  long  study  and  mature  experience.  Thus 
Homer  used  the  materials  accumulated  by  his  ruder  predeces- 
sors. Thus  Shakespeare,  working  in  a  kindred  spirit,  breathed 
his  own  immortality  into  traditions  and  characters  whose  out- 
lines had  been  traced  by  the  feeble  hands  of  those  who  had 
go:ie  before  him. 

A  great  poet  is  a  rare  bird.  Whoever  composed  the  Iliad 
and  Odyssey  shared  in  the  richest  gifts  of  knowledge  and 
genius  that  have  ever  been  showered  upon  mortal  man.  If 
one  author 'gave  them  being,  remarkable  as  is  the  fact,  it  is 
not  without  example  elsewhere ;  if  many  authors  combined, 
having  in  equal  measure  the  poetical  power,  the  combination 
were  marvellous,  unexampled,  and  incredible ;  but  when  we 
add  to  this  the  other  necessary  statement,  that  they  not  only 
had  equal  shares  of  the  poetical  gift,  but  worked  in  precisely 
the  same  spirit,  —  conceived  not  only  the  leading  characters, 
but  a  vast  number  of  subordinate  ones,  in  precisely  the  same 
0  way,  and  marked  their  appearance,  their  actions,  their  speech, 
by  precisely  the  same  traits  and  turns  of  expression,  so  that 
each  and  all  should  on  each  and  every  occasion  conduct  them- 
selves consistently,  express  themselves  consistently,  and  give 
not  only  to  the  modern  reader,  but,  so  far  as  we  knowr,  to 
those  who  lived  nearest  the  times  of  their  composition,  a  deep 
impression  of  their  unity,  —  to  believe  that  these  results  should 
have  been  accomplished  by  a  succession  of  poets  of  the  highest 
order  of  genius,  requires  a  degree  of  credulity  on  the  part  of 
the  sceptical  critics  quite  beyond  my  feeble  power  of  com- 
prehension. 

Again,  ballad-poetry  may  be  transmitted  by  memory,  and 
may  be  composed  without  the  artificial  aid  of  writing.  Any  kind 
of  poetry  may  be  learned  by  heart,  to  any  extent,  as  we  see  by 
the  example  of  players.  But  inventing  ballads,  with  their  sim- 
plicity of  incident,  is  quite  a  different  thing  from  composing 
long  and  comprehensive  epic  narratives,  with  the  great  variety 
of  characters,  so  nicely  discriminated,  so  carefully  finished,  so 
consistently  sustained,  as  those  ot  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey.  More- 
over, preserving  in  the  memory  a  vast  mass  of  compositions. 


8b  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

laboriously  committed  to  its  charge,  but  from  another  source,  is 
one  thing;  and  carrying  forward  in  the  memory  a  splendid 
array  of  events  and  characters  of  one's  own  invention,  keeping 
all  the  parts  forever  present  to  the  mind,  —  incidents,  person- 
ages, phrases,  modes  of  action,  places,  previous  history,  sur- 
rounding scenery,  —  so  that  all  shall  cohere  in  one  grand  and 
brilliant  picture,  shall  be  so  created  by  one  surpassing  genius, 
and  by  him  transmitted  through  successive  generations  of  rhap- 
sodists,  —  to  do  all  this  is  quite  another.  The  former  is  pos- 
sible, and  has  been  done.  The  latter  we  do  not  know  to  have 
been  done,  and  we  believe  it  to  be  quite  impossible. 

The  fundamental  errors  of  the  whole  theory  are  these :  — 

1.  The  opinion  that  the  art  of  writing,  for  literary  purposes, 
was  introduced  among  the  Greeks  at  too  late  a  period  for  the 
author  or  authors  of  the  Homeric  poems  to  have  employed  it. 

2.  The  confounding  of  two  widely  differing  stages  of  poetical 
development, — the  ballad  and  the  epic;  the  supposing  that  the 
Greeks  failed  to  take  the  last  step  which  led  to  the  completion 
of  the  epic  art,  and  the  production  of  its  highest  models ;  the 
presenting  of  a  very  mutilated  picture  of  a  progress,  perfectly 
natural  and  organic ;  the  believing  that  the  earliest  steps  were; 
taken  in  this  magnificent  art,  though  not  a  single  fragment  of 
document  remains  to  testify  to  the  facts ;  and  the  disbelieving 
in  the  last,  though  its  two  immortal  monuments  —  the  Iliad 
and  the  Odyssey,  more  durable  than  the  Pyramids  of  Egypt, 
more  stable  than  the  Alps  and  the  Himalayas  —  stand  there  as 
fresh,  as  beautiful,  as  full  of  the  glorious  youth  of  the  Hellenic 
genius,  as  when  they  were  first  built  up  in  their  fair  proportions 
by  the  plastic  hand  of  their  creator.  I  believe,  therefore,  that 
the  Wolfian  theory  has  not  an  inch  of  ground  to  rest  upon.  I 
believe  that  the  greatest  of  poets  save  one  had  a  personal  exist- 
ence ;  that  his  name  is  not  an  etymology,  and  his  being  not 
an  agglutination  of  fifty  or  a  hundred  ballad-mongers ;  that 
he  who  knew  everything  else  known  in  his  age  knew  his 
ABC,  and  how  to  write ;  and  finally,  that  he,  the  man 
Homeros,  did  actually  compose  and  write  down  his  own  poeti- 
cal works. 


LECTURE    VT. 

HOMER   AND    THE   ILIAD. 

We  have  followed  the  Hellenic  races  to  their  earliest  settle- 
ments in  Greece.  We  have  seen  the  blending  of  migrations 
across  the  sea  with  the  great  tide  by  land.  We  have  wit- 
nessed the  conflicts  between  the  opposite  shores  of  the  ^Egean, 
after  the  vicissitudes  of  national  childhood  had  passed,  and 
neighboring  monarchies,  combining  at  times  into  extensive  con- 
fedaracies,  had  been  established.  We  have  gone  with  them  to 
the  Trojan  War,  —  the  ten  long  years  of  that  distant  strife. 
We  have  traced  their  changing  fortunes,  in  the  JEolian,  Ionian, 
and  Dorian  re-migrations,  a  century  or  two  later,  to  the  Asiatic 
coast ;  the  returning  wave  breaking  again  upon  the  primeval 
land.  With  them  they  carried  that  warlike  minstrelsy,  which 
had  clung  to  their  religious  hymns  from  the  mysterious  oracu- 
lar centres  in  the  North. 

The  Ionians  had  from  the  beginning  a  superior  natural  endow- 
ment for  literature  and  art ;  and  when  this  most  gifted  race 
came  into  contact  with  the  antique  culture  and  boundless  com- 
mercial wealth  of  Asia  and  Africa,  the  loveliest  and  most  fra- 
grant flowers  of  the  intellect  shot  forth  in  every  direction. 
They  carried  with  them  the  traditions  of  their  race  and  the 
war-songs  of  their  bards,  from  the  Grecian  mainland  to  the 
very  scenes  where  the  famous  deeds  of  their  forefathers  had 
been  performed,  —  a  neighborhood  crowded  with  the  traditions 
of  the  hardly  less  famous  foes  of  their  ancestry.  These  local 
circumstances  awakened  a  fresh  interest  in  the  old  legends,  and 
epic  poetry  took  a  new  start,  a  bolder  character,  a  loftier  sweep, 
a  wider  range.    A  general  expansion  of  the  intellectual  powers 


90  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

and  the  poetical  spirit  suddenly  took  place  in  the  midst  of  the 
new  prosperity  and  the  unaccustomed  luxuries  of  the  East,- -in 
the  midst  of  the  gay  and  festive  life  which  succeeded  the  ages 
of  wandering,  toil,  hardship,  and  conflict,  like  the  Sabbath  re- 
pose following  the  weary  warfare  of  the  week.  The  loveliness 
of  nature  on  the  Ionian  shores  and  in  the  isles  that  crown 
the  ^Egean  deep  was  soon  embellished  by  the  genius  of  Art. 
Stately  processions;  hymns  chanted  in  honor  of  the  gods ;  grace- 
ful dances  before  the  altars,  statues,  and  shrines ;  assemblies 
for  festal  or  solemn  purposes,  in  the  open  air  under  the  soft  sky 
of  Ionia,  or  within  the  halls  of  princes  and  nobles,  —  these  fill 
up  the  moments  of  the  new  and  dazzling  existence  which  the 
excitable  Hellenic  race  are  invited,  here  and  now,  to  enjoy. 
Their  first  and  deepest  want  —  that  which,  in  the  foregoing 
periods  of  their  existence,  had  been  the  first  supplied  —  was 
the  longing  of  the  heart,  the  demand  of  the  imagination,  for 
poetry  and  song;  and  it  would  have  been  surprising  if  the 
bright  genius  of  Ionia,  under  all  these  favoring  circumstances, 
had  not  broken  upon  the  world  with  a  splendor  which  outshone 
all  its  former  achievements.  Poets  sprang  up,  obedient  to  the 
call ;  and  a  new  school  of  poetical  composition  rapidly  devel- 
oped itself,  embodying  the  Hellenic  traditions  of  the  Trojan 
story,  and  the  legends  handed  down  from  the  Trojans  them- 
selves. Troops  or  companies  of  these  poets,  singers,  doiBoi 
as  they  were  called,  were  formed,  and  their  pieces  were  the 
delight  of  the  listening  multitudes  that  thronged  around  them. 
At  last,  among  these  minstrels  who  consecrated  the  flower  of 
their  lives  to  the  service  of  the  Muses,  appeared  a  man  whose 
genius  was  to  eclipse  them  all.     This  man  was  Homer. 

Who,  what,  when,  and  where  was  Homer?  Several  lives 
of  the  poet  have  come  down  to  us ;  none  of  any  critical  value. 
They  prove,  however,  amidst  their  mass  of  fabulous  stories,  the 
constant  belief  of  the  ancient  world  that  he  was  an  Asiatic 
Greek ;  and  the  tone  and  coloring  of  the  Homeric  poetry  es- 
tablish this  fact  beyond  all  rational  question.  I  will  not  enter 
upon  the  details,  —  they  are  of  no  worth,  except  to  the  classi- 


HOMER   AND   THE  ILIAD.  91 

zal  scholar.  Thus  much  is  certain,  that  the  minstrel  school 
of  Chios  was  the  most  distinguished  in  that  poetical  age.  On 
this  fair  island,  probably,  Homer  was  born ;  or  if  not,  it  was 
doubtless  the  place  of  his  early  resort  and  the  favorite  scene 
of  his  studies.  Here,  certainly,  he  lived  a  part  of  his  life  ;  and 
the  name  of  Chios  is  forever  linked  with  his  fame.  The  tradi- 
tions of  Homer,  the  blind  old  beggar-bard,  are  the  creations 
of  later  times,  partly  founded  on  the  description  of  Demodocus 
in  the  Odyssey. 

If  we  draw  our  conception  of  him  from  his  poems,  —  and 
they  are  all  we  have  of  him  beyond  the  two  facts  of  his  Ionian 
birth  and  his  poetical  profession,  —  we  shall  picture  to  our- 
selves the  man  and  poet  Homer  in  quite  a  different  light  from 
that  of  tradition.  We  may  be  sure  that  he  was  born  in  a  con- 
dition of  life  which  surrounded  his  childhood  with  favoring  in- 
fluences. We  may  be  sure  that  he  had  the  most  exquisite  or- 
ganization ever  bestowed  on  the  finely  organized  Hellenic  race ; 
that  the  blood  ran  full,  and  free,  and  strong  through  his  veins ; 
that  his  eye  was  so  keen  and  bright  that  no  object,  great  or 
small,  escaped  its  vigilant  and  roving  glance  ;  that  his  ear  was 
attuned  to  all  the  melodies  of  nature  and  the  harmonies  of  art ; 
that  his  sensitive  nerves  vibrated  to  every  breath  of  heaven, 
and  every  impulse  of  the  spirit  within  ;  that  his  busy  fancy  was 
forever  moulding  and  recombining  what  his  eye  had  seen,  his 
ear  had  heard,  his  heart  had  felt.  We  may  be  sure  that  he, 
an  inspired  boy,  had  listened  with  inexpressible  delight  to  the 
songs  of  the  bards,  reciting  the  achievements  of  another  age ; 
that  he  had  wonderingly  and  reverently  gazed  upon  the  stately 
processions,  and  listened  to  the  solemn  prayers  of  the  priests,  as 
the  blessing  of  his  country's  gods  was  invoked.  And  when  the 
restless  period  of  youth  arrived,  we  may  well  believe  that  he 
embarked  with  the  Phoenician  seamen,  and  visited  the  cities  of 
the  elder  monarchies  of  Asia  and  Africa ;  that  he  floated  on  the 
bosom  of  the  sacred  Nile,  and  saw  the  royal  Pyramids  along 
its  margin,  and  looked  upon  the  sublime  and  awful  temples  of 
hundred-gated  Thebes     that  his  watchful  eye  traced  the  hiero- 


92  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

glyphs,  the  sculptures,  the  paintings  of  ancient  kings ;  that 
he  lingered  with  throbbing  heart  and  fiery  enthusiasm  upon 
those  battle-pieces  which  to  this  day  record,  on  imperishable 
structures,  the  wars  and  conquests  of  Egypt's  elder  monarchs, 
—  of  Sesostris  and  Rameses  the  Great.  We  may  be  sure 
that  every  path  upon  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor  was  familiar  to 
his  footsteps ;  that  he  had  pressed  the  soil  of  every  country 
in  Greece,  and  knew  by  heart  every  famous  city ;  that  the  field 
of  war  had  witnessed  his  presence,  as  well  as  the  quiet  scenes 
of  peace ;  that  wherever  he  wandered,  nothing  in  nature  or  the 
life  of  man  passed  unseen  or  escaped  unremembered.  At  sea 
he  knew  every  rope  in  the  ship,  —  we  read  it  in  all  his  descrip- 
tions now,  —  and  surpassed  the  sailors  in  nautical  lore.  Of 
every  weapon  of  attack  and  defence  his  hand  was  master,  and 
he  knew  from  personal  experience  what  there  is  of  good  and 
what  of  evil  in  the  spirit  of  Ares.  He  had  listened,  through  the 
watches  of  many  a  night,  to  the  long  stories  —  the  Phoenician 
yarns  —  of  those  primeval  tars ;  and  their  tales  of  wonder  he 
had  laid  up  in  a  memory  the  most  fast-holding  and  capacious, 
to  be  afterward  used  for  purposes  he  but  little  dreamed  of. 

And  then — the  frenzy  of  youthful  adventure  once  appeased, 
his  knowledge  embracing  all  that  was  known  in  his  age  — 
„he  image  of  the  beautiful  Ionia  once  more  arose  to  his  vision, 
and  a  home-longing,  like  that  of  Odysseus,  sitting  on  the  rocky 
shore  of  Calypso's  isle,  yearning  for  Ithaca,  the  dwelling  of  his 
wife  and  son,  compelled  him  to  return.  Again  he  listens  to 
the  lays  of  the  bards,  and  his  soul  is  stirred  within  him.  No 
doubt  his  thoughts  have,  before  this,  voluntarily  moved  harmo- 
nious numbers,  and  found  fit  utterance  in  verse.  The  in- 
spiration of  the  Muse  has  stolen  upon  him  under  the  walls  of 
Thebes,  in  the  shadow  of  the  Pyramids,  on  the  bosom  of  the 
roaring  sea,  on  the  storm-lashed  shore,  under  the  blaze  of 
day,  in  the  crowds  of  men,  in  the  deep  silence  of  the  starry 
night,  at  the  rising  of  the  sun,  at  the  setting  of  the  Pleiades. 
His  genius  has  been  long  training  itself,  instinctively,  if  not 
consciously,  for  his  fore-appointed  but  as  yet  unknown  task. 


HOMER   AND   THE  ILIAD.  93 

He  has  searched  the  coffers  of  his  native  Ionian  tongue  round 
&ni  round  for  the  ample  phrase  and  resounding  line,  into  which 
his  fervid  spirit  may  freely  pour  the  burning  stream  of  its 
thought.  The  lesson  has  been  practised  in  silent  meditation 
or  in  rapt  soliloquy ;  but  he  has  never  tasked  his  powers  nor 
tried  his  skill  in  an  assembly  of  men.  As  he  listens  to  the 
favored  minstrels,  he  feels  that  they  have  not  yet  touched  the 
deepest  chord.  Be  sure  there  is  that  in  the  appearance  of  the 
young  man  which  excites  interest  and  commands  attention ;  — 
a  mingled  gentleness  and  power  in  the  soul-speaking  face ;  an 
expression,  glancing  and  shifting  with  every  emotion ;  a  sweet 
modesty,  like  that  of  Shakespeare ;  and  an  inborn  nobleness 
of  manner,  which,  without  arrogance,  asserts  itself  in  every 
presence. 

At  length,  on  some  festal  day,  he  comes  forward  and  takes  his 
place  among  the  rival  minstrels.  He  touches  on  the  phorminx 
a  few  preluding  notes,  and  sings  a  lay.  And  what  is  it  ?  He 
is  still  in  the  bloom  of  early  youth  and  the  fire  of  manly  passion. 
Of  what,  then,  shall  he  sing,  but  the  wrath  of  Achilles,  —  the 
boy-hero  of  the  Trojan  tale  ?  A  sudden  sense  that  no  common 
hand  is  upon  the  lyre  hushes  the  tumultuous  crowd  to  a  still- 
ness broken  only  by  the  rich  and  powerful  voice  of  the  new 
minstrel,  as  he  invokes  the  Muse,  Mrjviv  aeiSe,  Bed.  The  strain 
rises  and  swells  upon  the  ear,  and  the  marvellous  hexameters 
possess  the  souls  and  entrance  the  sense  of  the  hearers.  The 
story  of  the  chieftain's  quarrel  is  soon  told,  —  too  soon  the  rhap- 
sody ends ;  while  each  of  that  mighty  throng  is  bending  forward, 
unconscious  where  he  is,  "for  the  godlike  voice  is  still  pouring 
around  him."  A  moment  more,  and  loud  and  prolonged  ap- 
plause, like  the  roaring  of  the  waves  upon  the  Hellespontine 
shore,  goes  up  to  the  concave  heaven.  Prince  and  people, 
priest  and  worshipper,  men  and  women,  feel  that  here  is  one 
mightier  than  they.  Musicians  and  minstrels  now  must  own 
their  master.  Here  is  the  great  creative  intellect,  the  wisest 
man,  of  his  age.  Henceforth,  there  is  no  doubt  in  Ionia,  soon 
there  is  no  doubt  in  the  Grecian  mainland,  who  is  the  light 


94  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

and  glory  of  the  world.  Wherever  he  goes,  honor,  obeisance, 
and  populai  enthusiasm  wait  upon  his  steps.  The  business  of 
his  life  is  made  clear  to  him.  Year  follows  year,  and  the  circle 
of  his  fame  enlarges.  By  degrees,  in  the  course  of  his  poetical 
task,  scene  after  scene  evolves  itself,  until  the  whole  magnifi- 
cent Iliad  stands  before  him. 

The  outline  of  the  tale — the  characters  and  the  incidents  of 
the  war  of  Troy  —  had  been  sung  by  other  bards  of  lesser  gifts ; 
but  he  sees  their  larger  poetical  capability,  and  seizes,  by  the 
right  of  the  strongest,  the  rich  material  out  of  which  a  new  poet- 
ical creation  shall  arise.  Story,  character,  and  incident  have  al- 
ready taken  hold  of  the  popular  imagination  ;  the  issues  of  the 
great  contest  between  Priam  and  his  mighty  pair  of  antagonists 
have  sunk  deep  into  the  popular  heart;  but  the  picture  kin- 
dles into  new  life  beneath  his  glowing  pencil.  The  actors  in 
the  Ilian  tragedy  come  again  upon  the  stage  at  his  bidding, 
each  with  all  the  attributes  of  fine  poetic  individuality.  And 
now,  in  conducting  the  fable  through  its  varied  and  contrasted 
scenes,  by  land  and  by  sea,  his  manifold  experience  and  abun- 
dant wealth  of  knowledge  crowd  the  song,  and  gather  into  it 
the  whole  world  of  action  and  art,  thought  and  passion.  Mid- 
way in  the  poet's  life  the  creation  of  the  Iliad  —  the  organic 
growth  of  long  and  studious,  but  practical  years  —  has  reached 
its  natural  termination,  has  expanded  to  its  completed  form, 
has  received  from  the  fusing  and  ordaining  and  overmastering 
genius  its  unity  of  spirit,  of  continuous  and  uninterrupted  de- 
velopment. 

In  this  wonderful  work,  to  use  the  comparison  of  Longinus, 
Homer  is  the  sun  at  his  meridian  height.  In  the  practice  of 
his  noble  art  for  so  many  years,  he  had  combined  the  epic 
elements  of  heroic  tradition  which  had  been  forming  for  centu 
ries,  achieving  thereby  a  twofold  result,  —  breathing  fresh  life 
into  ancient  forms,  and  a  vital  force  before  unknown  ;  and 
bringing  the  several  parts  of  the  Ilian  story  into  such  intimate 
connection  and  harmony,  that  they  no  longer  appeared  as  ballad 
minstrelsies,  serving  the  poet's  turn  for  brief  rehearsals,  at  the 


HOMER   AND   THE   ILIAD.  95 

gatherings  of  the  people,  or  in  the  halls  of  the  princes,  but 
embodied  in  one  magnificent  panorama,  partly  by  direct  narra- 
tion, partly  by  allusion  and  recapitulation,  all  the  essential  fea- 
tures of  the  great  national  adventure.  The  time  filled  up  by 
the  action  of  the  Iliad  extends  only  to  a  few  days,  — between 
forty  and  fifty ;  but  a  knowledge  of  the  rest  is  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent implied,  —  a  knowledge,  that  is,  of  what  preceded  and  fol- 
lowed it  in  the  national  traditions.  This,  of  course,  might  be 
presumed  to  exist  on  the  part  of  the  Ionian  audiences  for  which 
the  poem  was  intended;  and  this  again  shows  that  the  unity 
of  the  Iliad  is  the  unity  of  continuous  composition,  and  not  of 
a  previously  concerted  plan,  —  a  unity  springing  from  the  or- 
daining action  of  high  and  thoroughly  trained  creative  genius, 
and  not  conceived  at  the  outset  by  deep  premeditation. 

But  Homer  was  a  singer  and  an  actor.  His  profession  was, 
not  the  writing  and  publication  of  poems  to  be  circulated  like 
the  books  of  a  library,  and  to  be  read  by  gentlemen  and  ladies, 
at  their  leisure,  by  the  fireside  and  the  evening  lamp.  He  re- 
hearsed them  in  person,  he  acted  them  as  Shakespeare  acted 
in  his  plays ;  for  in  his  age  the  minstrel's  art  consisted  in  de- 
livering the  poetical  numbers  in  a  musical  cadence,  preluded 
and  partly  accompanied  by  notes  struck  upon  the  lyre.  The 
poet  not  only  practised  this  art  himself,  but  trained  up  the  ac- 
tors, so  that  troops  and  schools  of  performers  were  established, 
like  the  theatrical  companies  of  later  times.  Those  schools, 
the  most  renowned  of  which  was  that  of  the  Homeridae,  at 
Chios,  were  the  characteristic  literary  feature  of  that  age.  This 
style  of  action  or  representation,  having  its  origin  in  the  old 
Ionian  times,  lasted  in  the  hands  of  the  rhapsodists  far  into  the 
flourishing  period  of  Attic  literature. 

In  all  this  practice,  the  art  of  writing  —  long  since  brought 
in  from  Phoenicia  —  was  doubtless  employed  in  the  preparation, 
teaching,  and  transmission  of  these  compositions.  Poet  and 
performers  had  their  copies,  which  they  carried  with  them,  as 
they  strolled  from  city  to  city,  from  festival  to  festival,  frcm 
panegyris  to  panegyris,  just  as  the  player  now  takes  his  Shake- 


96  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

speaie ;  but  the  public  recitals  of  these  poems  were,  like  the 
performances  of  actors,  from  the  memory  alone.  And  in  this 
way  the  Homeric  poems  were  first  diffused  among  all  the  Hel- 
lenic communities  on  either  side  the  iEgean  Sea. 

The  story  of  the  Iliad  is  very  simple.  It  begins  with  the 
quarrel  of  Agamemnon  and  Achilles  about  a  captive  girl,  in 
the  ninth  year  of  the  war.  Achilles  in  anger  withdraws  from 
the  Grecian  camp.  A  series  of  battles  follows,  in  which  the 
Greeks,  deprived  of  their  swift-footed  champion,  suffer  defeat 
and  slaughter.  In  the  mean  time  the  secondary  heroes  press 
forward,  and  become  the  leading  figures  in  the  martial  picture. 
In  separate  chants  the  valiant  deeds  of  Diomedes,  Ajax,  Men- 
elaus,  Agamemnon,  are  commemorated.  But  the  Trojans, 
led  on  by  the  crested  Hector,  drive  the  Greeks  down  to  the 
very  ramparts  of  the  ships.  One  by  one  the  heroes  are  wound- 
ed and  disabled,  and  the  prospect  of  disastrous  overthrow  stares 
the  army  in  the  face.  Agamemnon,  at  length,  convinced  of 
his  fatal  error,  and  anxious  to  recall  the  angry  hero,  sends  an 
embassy  with  the  offer  of  ample  reparation.  The  proposal  is 
haughtily  rejected.  The  war  again  proceeds,  with  varying  for- 
tune. The  Greeks  are  driven  within  their  walls,  and  the  Tro- 
jans, led  on  by  Hector,  threaten  to  fire  the  ships.  The  battle 
wavers ;  Hector  is  wounded,  and  the  Trojans  are  driven  back. 
Achilles  at  length  consents  that  Patroclus,  his  brother-in-arms, 
shall  put  on  his  armor,  and  go  forth  to  battle.  The  appearance 
of  this  champion,  clad  in  the  complete  steel  of  the  son  of  Thetis, 
at.  first  strikes  terror  into  the  hosts  of  Troy,  and  gives  heart  to 
the  Argives.  But  he  is  slain  and  spoiled  of  his  arms  by  Hector, 
and  fierce  combats  for  the  possession  of  the  dead  body  follow. 
The  Greeks  prevail,  and  bear  the  slain  hero  back  to  the  camp. 
Achilles,  overwhelmed  with  sorrow,  abandons  himself  to  unre- 
strained lamentation.  This  calls  his  mother,  Thetis,  up  from 
the  sea.  She  finds  him  prostrate  with  grief,  yet  eager  to  exact 
a  bloody  vengeance  from  Hector  and  the  Trojans ;  but  Hector 
has  the  armor.  She  goes  to  the  smithy  of  Hephaistos,  who 
"eadily  forges  a  new  shield  of  divine  workmanship,  a  breast 


HOMER   AND   THE   ILIAD  97 

plate  brighter  than  the  blaze  of  fire,  a  strong- wrought  helmet 
with  a  golden  crest,  and  metal  greaves.  Achilles  receives  the 
arms,  becomes  reconciled  with  Agamemnon,  who  sends  him 
precious  gifts,  and  restores  the  captive  Briseis.  After  lament- 
ing over  the  dead  Patroclus,  he  mounts  the  car  and  rushes  to 
the  field,  careless  of  life,  and  longing  only  for  vengeance.  And 
now  the  war  comes  to  its  terrible  turning-point.  The  Trojan 
and  Grecian  champions  are  arrayed  in  deadly  strife,  and  the 
divided  deities  share,  according  to  their  several  likings,  in  the 
battle.  As  the  action  approaches  a  close,  the  description  rises 
in  grandeur.  At  length  both  armies  are  withdrawn  from  the 
field,  and  Achilles  and  Hector  alone  remain.  A  single  com- 
bat follows,  and  Hector  falls.  Achilles  insults  the  body  of  his 
foe,  lashes  him  to  his  car,  and  drags  him  down  to  his  tent,  in 
the  sight  of  Priam  and  the  Trojans,  who  gaze  heart-stricken 
from  the  walls  upon  the  dreadful  spectacle.  The  Greeks  re- 
turning to  the  camp,  funeral  games  are  performed  in  honor  of 
Patroclus,  and  twelve  Trojan  youths  are  slaughtered  to  ap- 
pease his  shade.  Thus  twelve  days  are  consumed.  Priam 
resolves  to  visit  the  hostile  camp,  and  to  implore  of  Achilles 
the  restoration  of  his  dead  son.  An  auspicious  omen  inspires 
him  with  hope.  He  departs,  taking  with  him  costly  gifts,  by 
which  he  thinks  to  appease  his  vindictive  enemy.  He  is  mel 
by  Hermes,  in  the  form  of  a  young  man,  who  guides  him  to 
the  tent  of  Achilles.  The  Grecian  hero,  astonished  at  his  sud- 
den appearance,  gives  him  a  hospitable  reception,  and,  overcome 
by  pity  for  his  unequalled  woes,  consents  to  surrender  the 
body  of  Hector.  It  is  borne  back  to  the  city ;  the  inhabitants 
receive  it  with  loud  lamentations ;  funeral  rites  are  performed ; 
and  so  the  poem  closes. 

Now,  from  this  slight  sketch,  it  must  be  evident  that  one 
spirit,  one  mind,  runs  through  the  whole ;  that  in  this  sense 
it  has  unity  and  completeness  ;  that  the  central  figure  is  Achil- 
les, and  that  every  important  turn  in  the  fortunes  of  the  wai 
depends  upon  his  presence  or  absence.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  preceding  events  —  the  mustering  of  the  hosts  of  Greece, 


98  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

the  voyage,  the  landing,  the  battles  of  the  first  eight  years, 
the  struggle  that  followed  the  death  of  Hector,  the  taking  of 
Troy,  and  the  departure  of  the  victorious  fleet  —  are  dealt  with 
only  by  implication  and  allusion ;  and  it  is  a  very  remarkable 
fact,  that  precisely  these  omitted  portions  of  the  Trojan  story 
were  taken  up  by  the  poets  that  immediately  followed  the 
Homeric  age,  who  thus  confessed  that  Homer  had  made  what- 
ever his  hand  had  touched  his  own  forever. 

Homer's  mode  of  dealing  with  the  divine  agencies  in  his 
works  was  objected  to  as  irreverent  by  some  of  the  more 
serious  among  the  ancients.  This  objection  can  have  no 
weight  now,  whatever  it  might  have  had  in  the  time  of  Plato. 
To  us  the  gods  are  like  the  fairies  of  modern  poetry ;  and  con- 
sidering the  manner  in  which  the  heroic  conceptions  of  super- 
natural beings  were  formed,  from  the  personified  phenomena  of 
nature  and  passions  of  man,  the  management  of  this  machinery 
is  highly  felicitous.  They  have  their  favorite  heroes,  by  whose 
side  they  stand  in  battle,  and  from  whom  they  avert  the  arrow 
eager  to  taste  of  human  flesh.  With  their  shields  they  inter- 
pose to  protect  them  from  the  edge  of  the  sword,  or  snatch 
them,  shrouded  in  a  dark  cloud,  from  defeat.  Nay,  the  gods 
themselves  are  driven  in  dishonor  from  the  field,  gashed  with 
wounds,  and  covered  with  blood.  Ares  gets  a  thrust  that 
makes  him  outroar  nine  thousand  troopers.  Aphrodite  is 
wounded  by  Diomedes,  and  flies  to  her  mother's  arms  to  be 
protected  and  cured.  Even  the  fierce  quarrels  that  disturb 
the  festivities  and  vex  the  domestic,  circle  of  Olympus,  the 
sarcasms  of  Zeus,  and  the  downright  scolding  of  Hera,  are 
not  unnatural,  if  we  bear  in  mind  that,  according  to  the 
early  conception  of  the  Greeks,  the  divine  life,  morals,  and 
manners  were  only  human  life,  morals,  and  manners  carried 
out  upon  a  grander  scale. 

I  have  already  alluded  to  the  clearness  and  consistency  with 
which  the  characters  in  the  Iliad  are  managed,  —  not  merely 
the  leading,  but  the  subordinate  persons.  But  Homer  rarely 
describes  his  characters,  as  a  second-rate  poet  would  have  been 


HOMER   AND   THE   ILIAD  99 

ukely  to  do.  The  dramatic  element  enters  largely  into  the 
whole  texture  of  his  works ;  it  is  action  that  brings  his  heroes 
out,  and  gives  them  such  poetical  life.  And  this  makes  it  ne- 
cessary to  follow  them  through  all  the  scenes  in  which  they 
appear,  as  we  would  study  the  characters  of  living  men  by 
watching  them  under  every  variety  of  circumstance.  Achilles, 
in  the  rudely  outlined  figures  of  the  ballad-makers  who  pre- 
ceded Homer,  was  a  fierce,  vindictive,  overbearing,  intolerable 
bully ;  but  when  Homer  took  him  in  hand,  though  he  preserved, 
while  softening  them,  all  the  essential  points  of  the  popular 
tradition,  he  civilized  him  by  adding  others  which  are  unfolded 
in  the  progress  of  the  action,  beautifully  rounding  and  complet- 
ing the  character ;  so  that  the  Homeric  Achilles  is  the  type 
of  youthful  bravery,  —  his  fierce  passion  and  lust  of  revenge 
counterbalanced  by  the  deepest  sensibility  to  friendship,  and  a 
generous  readiness  to  yield  to  the  impulses  of  pity.  A  similar 
analysis,  with  the  same  result,  might  be  made  of  each  of  the 
other  important  characters ;  and  we  should  find  that  they  are 
so  naturally  developed,  that,  while  different  scenes  bring  out 
different  qualities,  these  qualities  harmonize  together,  and  serve 
to  finish  off  the  Homeric  conception  of  the  persons. 

Again,  the  Trojan  characters  are  discriminated  with  equal 
fineness  of  art,  and  admirably  contrasted,  as  Oriental  and 
Asiatic,  with  the  Greek.  Homer  deals  with  both  sides  im- 
partially, while,  however,  he  remains  faithful  to  the  ethical 
views  of  his  Hellenic  origin.  Troy  is  a  rich,  sensual,  extrava- 
gant Asiatic  city.  Priam  is  the  Sultan, — his  palace  contain- 
ing his  harem  and  the  apartments  of  his  numerous  sons  and 
daughters.  Paris  is  a  handsome  young  voluptuary,  —  half 
pirate,  half  dandy,  not  destitute  of  courage  when  driven  to 
the  wall,  but  showy  and  profligate,  liking  better  to  polish  his 
arms  than  to  use  them.  His  original  crime  of  violating  the 
sacred  rites  of  hospitality  has  brought  the  impending  doom 
over  the  royal  city ;  and  this  is  hastened  on  by  the  treachery, 
falsehood,  and  sensuality  by  which  he  shows  his  haughty  dis- 
regard of  justice,  and  his  scorn  of  tine  avenging  Nemesis.     But 


100         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

here  the  poet  has  relieved  the  general  darkness  of  tins  picture 
by  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  half-repenting  Helen,  the  patri- 
otic deeds,  words,  and  character  of  Hector,  and  the  unrivalled 
pathos  of  the  parting  scene  between  him  and  Andromache. 
With  such  refined  art  has  this  great  poet  managed  the  various 
scenes  of  his  stoiy,  and  the  play  of  contrasts  between  man  and 
man,  between  nation  and  nation. 

We  have  seen  with  what  clearness  of  poetic  life  the  human 
characters  are  drawn  by  Homer.  Humanity  is  the  proper 
quality  by  which,  like  the  great  creations  of  Shakespeare,  they 
rouse  a  fellow-feeling  in  all  men  of  all  ages.  They  are  not 
mere  embodiments  of  peculiarities  and  humors,  such  as  artifi- 
cial society  often  unfolds ;  but  they  are  flesh-and-blood  men, 
whose  physical  life  is  full  of  energy  and  fire,  and  whose  pas- 
sions are  not  schooled  to  uniformity  by  the  laws  and  insinceri- 
ties of  fashion.  They  think  fearlessly,  and  speak  plainly, 
calling  a  spade  a  spade.  If  they  get  angry,  out  it  comes,  some- 
times rudely  enough,  with  no  mincing  of  phrase,  and  no  Pick- 
wickian or  Congressional  explanations  afterwards.  If  they 
are  hungry,  they  eat  with  no  fastidious  selection  of  delicate 
morsels,  but  like  hearty  men,  earnestly  bent  on  doing  the  work 
conscientiously.  At  table  respect  is  shown  to  superior  rank  or 
bravery,  not  merely  by  helping  it  first,  but  by  giving  it  twice 
or  three  times  as  much.  Thus  Agamemnon  honored  Ajax 
with  a  whole  sirloin  of  roast  beef  after  his  fight  with  Hector, 
while  the  other  guests  were  helped  to  not  more  than  five  or  six 
pounds  apiece.  When  they  were  thirsty  they  drank,  not 
water  alone  ;  for  the  water  of  the  Hellespont  wasaiot  good,  and 
tea  and  coffee  and  lemonade  were  as  yet  unknown.  "  Set  forth 
a  bigger  mixer,"  says  Achilles  to  Patroclus,  when  Agamem- 
non's ambassadors  visit  his  tent ;  "  draw  it  stronger,  and  ham. 
each  man  a  beaker,  for  much-beloved  men  are  beneath  my 
roof.1'  Homer  was  not  only  a  poet,  but  a  practical  man  ;  and, 
in  all  the  operations  before  Troy,  he  kept  an  eyo  upon  the 
commissariat.  Some  think  that  cooking,  eating,  and  drinking 
aie  vulgar,  and  quite  beneath  the  notice  of  the  Muse ;  and  the 


HOMER   AND   THE  ILIAD.  101 

consequence  is,  that  in  poems  and  other  literary  works  the 
heroes  and  heroines  are  often  carelessly  placed  in  positions,  for 
weeks  together,  where  they  could  not  possibly  get  a  morsel  to 
stay  the  hungry  edge  of  appetite,  or  a  drop  of  water  or  any- 
thing else  tc  quench  their  thirst,  or  a  change  of  linen  even ; 
so  that  the  wonder  is,  how  they  survive  the  hardships  of  the 
first  volume.  But  Homer  felt  the  great  truth  which  he  puts 
into  the  mouth  of  one  of  his  heroes,  that  men  cannot  fight  upon 
an  empty  stomach.  That  even  grief  grows  hungry,  Achilles 
proves  to  Priam,  by  the  example  of  Niobe.  He  took  his  meas- 
ures accordingly.  Some  of  the  troops  were  employed  in  tilling 
the  fields  of  Troy ;  others,  in  the  less  honest  business  of  pil- 
laging the  neighboring  towns ;  and  a  brisk  trade  for  wine,  in  ex- 
change for  brass  and  iron,  hides,  cattle,  and  slaves,  was  carried 
on  with  Lemnos  and  other  islands,  —  the  Maine  law  not  hav- 
ing yet  been  enacted.  On  one  occasion,  when  Agamemnon 
had  received  a  thousand  measures, 

"  All  night  the  Greeks  enjoyed  the  plenteous  feast ; 

The  Trojans  and  their  aids,  in  Ilion  too, 

Were  feasting;  but  throughout  that  gloomy  night 

t 
The  sire  of  gods  his  wrathful  thunders  rolled,  — 

Dread  sign  of  coining  woes.     Pale  terror  shook 

The  knees  of  all ;  and  from  their  bowls  they  poured 

Libations  large;  presuming  none  to  drink 

Before  they  poured  to  Jove  omnipotent." 

Another  point  in  Homer's  natural  delineation  is  the  open- 
ness and  candor  with  which  his  heroes  confess  it,  when  they 
are  afraid.  Even  Hector,  on  one  occasion,  after  discussing  the 
question  at  some  length  with  his  own  magnanimous  spirit,  very 
honestly  admitting  that  he  is  horribly  frightened,  fairly  takes  to 
his  heels  and  runs.  The  point  of  honor,  which  requires  a  man 
to  be  afraid  of  seeming  to  be  afraid  of  what  he  is  afraid  of, 
formed  no  part  of  the  Homeric  idea  of  heroism. 

The  style  of  Homer  possesses  the  transparent  clearness  which 
is  common  to  poets  of  the  highest  order.  The  same  quality  is 
found  in  Chaucer ;  it  is  found   embellished,  perhaps,  by  excess 


102  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

of  ornament,  in  Spenser ;  it  is  found  pre-eminently  in  Shake- 
speare ;  and  is  characteristic  of  the  ballad-minstrelsy  of  al? 
nations. 

It  has  been  alleged  that  the  ancient  poets  had  no  genuine  love 
of  Nature.  I  confess  I  do  not  understand  the  meaning  of  this 
strange  assertion.  Wherever  men  have  eyes  to  see,  ears  to  hear, 
and  hearts  to  feel,  Nature  is  to  them  a  living  presence.  She 
speaks  to  them  in  her  myriad  voices,  and  they  hear.  She  looks 
upon  them  smilingly  or  sternly,  and  they  understand  the  elo- 
quence of  her  mute  appeal.  She  gazes  down  upon  them  with 
the  starry  eyes  of  Night,  and  they  feel  a  solemn  calm  under 
the  august  silence  of  her  inspection.  She  speaks  in  the  thun- 
der, in  the  frantic  ocean,  and  they  listen  with  awe.  The  pic- 
tures of  Nature  are  the  first  to  stamp  themselves  on  the  mem- 
ory, and  the  last  to  be  blotted  out.  The  assertion  cannot  be 
true  ;  least  of  all  is  it  true  of  Homer,  to  whom  every  aspect  of 
Nature  Was  intimate  and  dear.  What  a  picture  is  this,  to  be 
drawn  by  one  who  had  no  true  feeling  for  the  beauty  oe  Na- 
ture ! 

"  As  when  the  stars  of  the  night,  encircling  the  moon  in  her  brightness, 
Glitter  on  high,  and  the  winds  of  the  air  have  sunk  into  silence ; 
Bright  are  the  headland  heights,  and  bright  the  peaks  of  the  mountains, 
Bright  are  the  vales,  and,  opening  deep,  the  abysses  of  ether 
Sparkle  with  star  after  star,  and  the  heart  of  the  shepherd  rejoices." 

Hundreds  of  such  passages  might  be  selected,  showing  not 
only  the  truest  and  deepest  sensibility  to  Nature  that  ever  poet 
had,  but  the  most  brilliant  power  of  reproducing  whatever  is 
striking  in  her  forms. 

Our  language  has  several  translations  of  Homer,  possessing 
various  degrees  of  excellence,  but  marred  by  great  defects. 
Chapman's  is  quaint  and  vigorous,  but  rough.  -  Pope's  is  de- 
liciously  smooth,  but  modern,  dainty,  and  unfaithful  to  the 
local  coloring.  Cowper  is  truer  to  the  word,  but  wanting  to 
the  spirit.  Sotheby  is  laborious ;  but  his  management  of  the 
English  couplet  utterly  fails  to  reproduce  the  effect  of  the  Ho- 
meric hexameter.     Mumford's  blank-verse  translation  is  unsur- 


HOMER   AND   THE  ILIAD.  103 

passed  in  passages  ;  but  he  has  not  been  able  to  give  sufficient 
variety  to  the  divisions  and  pauses  to  save  it  from  monotony. 
The  Germans  have  several  times  translated  Homer,  as  they 
have  every  other  classic,  into  the  measure  of  the  original,  or,  I 
should  rather  say,  a  measure  analogous  to  the  original ;  for  the 
hexameter  of  the  modern  languages  is  only  an  accented  one, 
while  the  classical  measures  were  all  constructed  upon  the  prin- 
ciple of  quantity,  setting  accent,  in  the  Latin  as  well  as  in  the 
Greek,  wholly  aside ;  and  there  is  all  the  difference  between 
the  two  methods  that  there  is  between  chanting  and  reading. 

Some  of  the  earlier  attempts  at  English  hexameters  were 
not  quite  so  successful  as  could  be  desired.  These  lines  from 
Stanyhurst's  Virgil,  published  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time,  are 
contained  in  the  famous  description  of  JEtna :  — 

"  Neere  joinctlye  brayeth  with  rufflerie  rumboled  Etna. 
Soomtyme  owt  it  bolcketh,  from  bulck  clouds  grimly  bedimmed 
Like  fyerd  pitch  skorching,  or  flash  flame  sulphurous  heating  : 
Flownce  to  the  stars  towring,  the  fire  like  a  peller  is  hurled, 
Ragd  rocks  up  raking,  and  out  of  the  mounten  yrented 
From  roote  up  he  jogleth ;  stoans  huge,  slag  molten  he  rowseth, 
With  route  snort  grumbling  in  bottom  flash  furie  kindling." 

Look  on  this  picture  ;  now  look  on  this  from  Longfellow  :  — 
"  Still  stands  the  forest  primeval ;  but  far  away  from  its  shadow, 
Side  by  side,  in  their  nameless  graves,  the  lovers  are  sleeping. 

Daily  the  tides  of  life  go  ebbing  and  flowing  beside  them, 
Thousands  of  throbbing  hearts,  where  theirs  are  at  rest  and  forever, 
Thousands  of  aching  brains,  where  theirs  no  longer  are  busy, 
Thousands  of  toiling  hands,  where  theirs  have  ceased  from  their  labors, 
Thousands  of  weary  feet,  where  theirs  have  completed  their  journey  ! " 

Some  attempts  have  been  made  to  render  Homer  into  Eng- 
lish hexameters,  and  I  think  with  fair  success.  The  following 
passage  is  from  a  specimen-version  in  Blackwood's  Magazine. 

"  Sing,  O  Goddess,  the  wrath  unblest  of  Peleian  Achilleus, 
Whence  the  uncountable  woes  that  were  heaped  on  the  host  of  Achaia ; 
Whence  many  valorous  spirits  of  heroes,  untimely  dissevered, 
Down  unto  Hades  were  sent,  and  themselves  to  the  dogs  were  a  plunder, 
And  all  fowls  of  the  air ;  but  the  counsel  of  Zeus  was  accomplished ; 


104         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

E'en  from  the  hour  when  at  first  were  in  fierceness  of  rivalry  sundered 
Atreus'  son,  the  Commander  of  Men,  and  the  noble  Achilleus." 

Here  are  two  striking  passages  as  translated  in  hexameter* 
by  Shadwell :  — 

"  Burning  with  fury  the  God  came  down  from  his  high  habitation ; 
Full  quiver  hung  by  his  side,  and  elastic  bow  from  his  shoulder ; 
Loud  at  his  side  was  the  clanking  of  darts,  as  he  sped  from  Olympus 
Swift  as  the  Night  through  the  sky,  deep  vengeance  silently  brooding ; 
Nearer  arrived  to  the  fleet,  then  he  stayed ;  and  the  silvery  bowstring 
Fearfully  twanged,  as  the  shafts  flew  abroad,  death  dealing  amongst  them. 
First  on  the  mules  and  the  dogs  fell  thickly  the  murderous  shower ; 
Next  on  themselves  the  destructive  darts,  wide-wastefully  wounding, 
Light ;  and  the  funeral  piles  were  daily  and  nightly  rekindled. 
Nine  days  long  through  the  camp  raged  fiercely  the  shafts  of  Apollo." 

"  As  when  a  sea  runs  high,  which  a  westerly  wind  hath  awakened. 
Wave  upon  wave  to  the  land  rolls  in  with  a  boisterous  uproar, 
Gathering  a  crest  on  the  water  afar  ;  some,  noisily  roaming, 
Break  on  a  deep,  bold  shore  ;  some  again,  on  a  bluff-lying  headland 
Dashed  up  aloft,  curl  over  and  fling  spray  wildly  to  leeward ; 
So  then  advanced  to  the  battle,  in  wave-like  order,  Achaia's 
Host,  rank  following  rank." 

Part  of  the  scene  in  the  tent  of  Achilles  is  thus  rendered  ut 
Blackwood :  — 

"  All  unobserved  of  them  entered  the  old  man  stately,  and  forthwith 
Grasped  with  his  fingers  the  knees,  and  kissed  the  hands  of  Achilles,  — 
Terrible,  murderous  hands,  by  which  son  upon  son  had  been  slaughtered. 

And  Achilles  was  dumb  at  the  sight  of  majestical  Priam, 
He  and  his  followers  all,  each  gazing  on  other  bewildered. 
But  he  uplifted  his  voice  in  their  silence,  and  made  supplication : 
'  Think  of  thy  father  at  home,'  he  began,  '  0  godlike  Achilles  ! 
Him,  my  coeval,  like  me  within  age's  calamitous  threshold. 
Haply  this  day  there  is  trouble  upon  him,  some  insolent  neighbors 
Bound  him  in  arms,  nor  a  champion  at  hand  to  avert  the  disaster. 
Yet  even  so  there  is  comfort  for  him  ;   for  he  hears  of  thee  living. 
Day  unto  day  there  is  hope  for  his  heart  amid  worse  tribulation. 
That  yet  again  he  shall  see  his  beloved  from  Troja  returning. 
Misery  only  is  mine ;  for  of  all  in  the  land  of  my  fathers, 
Bravest  and  best  were  the  sons  I  begat,  and  not  one  is  remaining. 


HOMER   AND   THE  ILIAD.  105 

But  one  peerless  was  left,  sole  prop  of  the  realm  and  the  people. 

And  now  at  last  he  too,  the  protector  of  Ilion,  Hector, 

Dies  by  thy  hand.     For  his  sake  have  I  come  to  the  ships  of  Achaia, 

Eager  to  ransom  the  body,  with  bountiful  gifts  of  redemption. 

Thou,  have  respect  for  the  gods,  and  on  me,  O  Peleides,  have  pity, 

Calling  thy  father  to  mind  ;  but  more  piteous  is  my  desolation,  — 

Mine,  who,  alone  of  mankind,  have  been  humbled  to  this  of  endurance,  — 

Pressing  my  mouth  to  the  hand  that  is  red  with  the  blood  of  my  children.' 

Hereon  Achilles,  awaked  to  a  yearning  remembrance  of  Peleus, 

Rose  up,  took  by  the  hand,  and  removed  from  him  gently  the  old  man. 

Sadness  possessing  the  twain,  —  one,  mindful  of  valorous  Hector, 

Wept  with  o'erflowing  tears,  low-laid  at  the  feet  of  Achilles ; 

He,  some  time  for  his  father,  anon  at  the  thought  of  Patroclus, 

Wept,  and  aloft  in  the  dwelling,  their  long  lamentation  ascended." 

From  the  beautiful  scene  of  the  lamentations  over  the  body 
of  Hector,  after  the  return  to  the  city,  I  take  the  wail  of  He- 
lena :  — 

"  Hector,  dearest  to  me  above  all  in  the  house  of  my  husband  ! 
Husband !  alas  that  I  call  him !  0  better  that  death  had  befallen ! 
Summer  and  winter  have  flown,  and  the  twentieth  year  is  accomplished, 
Since  the  calamity  came,  and  I  fled  from  the  land  of  my  fathers ; 
Yet  never  word  of  complaint  have  I  heard  from  thee,  never  of  hardness  : 
But  if  another  reproached,  were  it  brother  or  sister  of  Paris, 
Yea,  or  his  mother,  (for  mild  evermore  as  a  father  was  Priam,) 
Them  didst  thou  check  in  their  scorn,  and  the  bitterness  yielded  before  thee, 
Touched  by  thy  kindness  of  soul,  and  the  words  of  thy  gentle  persuasion. 
Therefore  I  weep,  both  for  thee,  and  myself  to  all  misery  destined ; 
For  there  remains  to  me  now,  in  the  war-swept  wideness  of  Troja, 
None,  either  courteous  or  kind ;  but  in  all  that  behold  me  is  horror." 

The  poem  ends  with  these  lines :  — 

"  Swiftly  the  earth-mound  rose ;  but  on  all  sides  watchers  were  planted, 
Fearful  of  rush  unawares  from  the  well-greaved  bands  of  Achaia. 
Last,  when  the  mound  was  complete,  and  the  men  had  returned  to  the  city, 
All  in  the  halls  of  the  king  were  with  splendid  solemnity  feasted. 
Thus  was  the  sepulture  ordered  of  Hector,  the  Tamer  of  Horses." 


LECTURE    VII. 

THE   ODYSSEY.  — THE  BATBACHOMYOMACHIA. 

Much  that  we  have  said  of  the  Iliad  is  equally  true  of  the 
Odyssey.  So  far  as  concerns  unity  of  plan  and  of  character, 
—  especially  the  former,  —  the  proofs  of  homogeneousness  are 
more  conclusive  in  the  Odyssey  than  in  the  Iliad.  I  do  not 
mean  to  assert  that  no  changes  have  been  made,  in  the  course 
of  time,  in  the  text  of  both.  When  we  consider  the  vicissi- 
tudes through  which  these  works  have  passed,  first,  in  the 
hands  of  the  Homeridae,  the  earliest  actors  who  represented 
them ;  secondly,  in  the  hands  of  the  rhapsodists,  or  strolling 
singers,  of  a  subsequent  age ;  thirdly,  in  the  editions  or  copies 
possessed  by  numerous  cities  for  public  use ;  fourthly,  in  the 
revisions  made  at  Lacedaemon,  at  Athens,  and  elsewhere ; 
fifthly,  in  the  copies  prepared  under  the  critical  supervision 
of  the  Alexandrian  scholars ;  and,  finally,  in  the  copies  made 
by  professional  transcribers  from  Homer's  own  time  down  to 
the  multiplication  of  editions  by  the  art  of  printing ;  —  when 
we  look  at  this  long  history,  we  see  ground  for  two  general 
views,  not  inconsistent,  but  supporting  each  other.  First,  the 
immediate  and  universal  fame  which  placed  these  works  at  the 
head  of  their  class,  and  caused  them  to  be  so  widely  diffused 
and  so  carefully  preserved  by  public  authority  throughout  the 
Grecian  world,  was  also  a  guaranty  for  the  substantial  purity 
of  the  text.  But,  secondly,  numerous  verbal  alterations,  not 
materially  affecting  the  sense,  yet  giving  rise  to  various  read- 
ings, could  not  well  have  been  avoided,  as  they  passed  through 
the  hands  of  so  many  copyists.  Hence  arose  the  necessity,  in 
the  age  of  grammar  and  criticism,  when  the  elder  literature  of 


THE   ODYSSEY.  107 

Greece  came  to  be  the  subject  of  scholarly  study  under  the 
munificent  patronage  of  the  Ptolemies,  of  comparing  the  read- 
ings and  establishing  a  critical  text.  The  text  which  we  now 
possess  is  founded  upon  manuscripts  which  are  themselves 
derived  at  a  longer  or  shorter  remove  from  the  Alexandrian 
copies.  As  these  poems  were  originally  composed  to  be  sung 
or  performed,  rather  than  to  be  read,  and  as  the  copies  were 
chiefly  in  the  hands  of  the  troops  of  players,  it  would  naturally 
follow  that  the  particular  orthography,  the  division  into  books 
marked  by  the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  and  many  other  minute 
external  details  of  the  text,  are  the  work,  not  of  Homer,  but 
of  critics  and  editors  since  his  time.  With  these  qualifications 
and  exceptions,  I  have  no  doubt  that  we  have  the  Homeric 
poems  as  their  great  author  sang  and  wrote  them. 

The  plan  of  the  Odyssey  is  more  complicated  than  that  of 
the  Iliad,  and  the  materials  present  a  richer  and  more  beauti- 
ful variety.  If  the  Iliad,  with  all  its  simplicity,  could  not 
have  resulted  from  the  accidental  coherence  of  different  min- 
strelsies, bound  together  only  by  unity  of  subject  and  tradi- 
tion, for  much  stronger  reasons  is  it  impossible  to  conceive,  on 
rational  grounds,  that  the  vastly  more  complicated  structure 
of  the  Odyssey  should  have  been  wrought  out  in  the  same 
manner.  I  believe  that  the  view  of  Longinus  —  one  of  the 
ablest  critics  of  antiquity  —  was  the  right  one,  that  the  Iliad 
was  the  work  of  the  poet's  fiery  youth  and  early  manhood, 
and  the  Odyssey,  of  his  serener  age,  —  the  one  the  glory  of 
the  mid-day,  the  other  that  of  the  setting  sun.  The  plan  of 
the  Iliad  grew  upon  him  as  he  proceeded  with  the  composition 
of  its  parts ;  and  when  he  had  reached  its  completion,  he  paused 
in  his  creative  work,  and  gave  years,  perhaps,  to  retouching, 
recombining,  and  harmonizing  its  varied  elements  and  char- 
acters. His  occupation  as  a  professional  singer,  also,  took  him, 
with  his  great  poem,  from  island  to  island,  and  from  city  to 
city,  until  the  whole  Hellenic  world  had  grown  familiar  with 
every  passage  of  the  Iliad,  and  had  stamped  it  upon  their 
minds.     But,  after  a  time,  the  overmastering  impulse  to  create 


108  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

comes  upon  him  again,  and,  his  master-work  already  moulded 
and  remoulded  until  its  immortal  scenes  can  receive  no  higher 
finish  even  from  his  plastic  hand,  he  looks  about  him  for  some 
new  subjec*.  This  readily  suggests  itself  from  among  the  in- 
numerable legends  of  the  return  of  the  heroes  from  Troy, 
their  detentions,  sufferings,  adventures  by  sea  and  land,  after 
the  great  revenge  has  been  exacted,  the  great  trial  held,  the 
sentence  passed,  and  judgment  executed.  Among  the  leaders, 
the  wise  Odysseus,  and  his  long  wanderings  before  he  trod 
again  the  shore  of  rocky  Ithaca,  are  among  the  favorite  themes 
of  the  singers.  His  ready  counsel,  that  fine  eloquence  which 
in  the  Iliad  is  aptly  described  as  "  falling  like  the  snow-flakes 
of  winter,"  his  prompt  device  in  every  difficult  emergency, 
and,  I  must  add,  the  little  scruple  he  had  in  resorting  to  diplo- 
matic disguises  of  the  truth  when  they  served  a  useful  purpose, 
made  his  character  and  fortunes  a  subject  on  which  the  Greek 
imagination  always  loved  to  linger.  The  adventures  of  Odys- 
seus, therefore,  naturally  fixed  the  attention  of  the  poet,  and 
formed  a  centre  around  which  the  second  great  epic  action 
revolved.  The  poet  had  passed  the  fiery  years  of  youth ;  he 
had  exhausted  all  the  poetical  resources  of  martial  achieve- 
ment, and  now  the  calmer  aspects  of  life  rose  before  him  with 
more  attractive  charms.  It  is  true  that  even  in  the  Iliad  he 
had  drawn  occasional  pictures  of  home  and  its  affections,  which 
afforded  the  sweetest  contrast  to  the  clang  of  war,  and  the  din 
of  embattled  squadrons ;  but  there  were  few  bright  openings 
in  the  general  tumult  of  strife  and  death.  The  return  of  Odys 
seus  reversed  the  picture.  The  war  was  over,  and  the  scenes 
of  home  and  the  quiet  of  peaceful  pursuits  resumed  their  pre- 
eminence, and  stood  in  the  foreground  of  the  picture  of  life. 

Looking  at  the  Odyssey  as  a  work  of  art,  it  exhibits  much 
more  of  careful  premeditation  in  its  general  plan  and  outline 
than  the  Iliad ;  so  much  more,  that  no  one  can  read  it  without 
feeling  that  here  certainly  is  the  work  of  one  mind.  All  the 
parts  so  cohere  together,  and  are  so  artfully  arranged  about 
a  common  centre  of  interest  and  action,  that  its  accidenta. 


THE   ODYSSEY.  109 

growth  out  of  an  accumulation  of  minstrelsies  from  different  au- 
thors and  times  would  be  little  less  than  miraculous.  The  ex- 
planation of  this  difference  between  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey 
is  quite  natural,  I  might  almost  say  inevitable.  The  poet  had 
already  arrived  at  the  conception  of  a  great  epic,  which  should 
carry  the  ballad-composition  up  to  the  highest  form,  and  in  the 
years  of  labor  spent  in  the  gradual  elaboration  of  the  Iliad  he 
had  perfected  the  execution.  When,  therefore,  the  Odyssey — 
the  return  of  Odysseus  —  first  presented  itself  to  his  thoughts, 
it  appeared  to  him,  not  as  the  subject  of  a  song,  not  as  a  brief 
minstrelsy  for  the  amusement  of  the  passing  hour,  but  in  the 
outlines  of  another  great  epic  plan,  which  is  distinctly  recog- 
nizable in  the  very  first  line.  The  different  ways  in  which  the 
poems  open  have  never  been  remarked  upon  in  relation  to  this 
view  of  the  growth  of  epic  poetry.  They  seem  to  me,  how- 
ever, highly  significant  and  important.  The  Iliad  begins,  "  Sing, 
O  Goddess,  the  wrath  of  Achilles,"  —  which  in  the  first  con- 
ception seems  to  be  the  only  theme  present  at  the  moment  to 
the  poet's  mind,  although  it  connects  itself  naturally  and  dra- 
matically enough  with  all  that  follows.  The  Odyssey  begins, 
"  Tell,  O  Muse,  of  the  much  experienced  man,  who  wandered 
far  and  wide,  after  he  had  sacked  the  sacred  town  of  Troy  "  ; 
as  if  the  whole  world  of  adventures  that  befell  the  wily  hero 
had  been  distinctly  drawn,  at  the  opening  moment,  on  the 
imagination.  In  the  former,  the  Goddess  is  invoked  to  sing 
the  wrath;  in  the  latter,  the  Muse  is  invoked  to  tell  the  wan- 
derings :  it  being  thus  implied  that  the  former  was  designed  to 
be  chanted,  the  latter  to  be  narrated ;  in  fine,  that  the  Iliad 
began  in  a  ballad,  and  ended  with  becoming  an  epic  poem ; 
while  the  Odyssey  was  an  epic  poem  in  its  first  conception. 

The  general  characteristics  of  the  Odyssey  are  the  same 
with  those  of  the  Iliad,  if  we  make  allowance  for  the  difference 
of  subjects,  and  the  natural  changes  which  take  place  in  a 
man's  style  of  thinking  and  writing,  as  he  passes  from  one 
period  of  life  to  another.  The  scene  of  the  Iliad  is  laid  in 
A.sia,  though   descriptive  passages  witn   reference   to  Greece 


110  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

and  allusions  to  its  local  peculiarities  frequently  occur,  all 
marked  by  such  vivid  truth  to  nature,  that  they  have  stood 
the  test  of  modern  scrutiny  by  learned  travellers,  and  are  as 
faithful  at  the  present  moment  as  they  were  three  thousand 
years  ago.  Asiatic  nature  and  life  are  represented  with  the 
most  graphic  fidelity.  The  battle  of  Achilles  with  the  Rivers, 
suggested  by  the  violent  rushing  of  the  spring- torrents  as  they 
came  down  from  the  neighboring  mountains,  and  inundated 
the  Trojan  plain,  resembles  in  its  whole  conception,  its  spirit, 
and  its  local  coloring,  the  Descent  of  the  Ganges.  The  scene 
of  the  Odyssey,  on  the  other  hand,  is  chiefly  laid  in  continental 
Greece,  and  so  minute  and  faithful  are  the  panoramic  pictures 
which  it  successively  presents,  that  the  Odyssey  is  said  to  be 
even  now  the  best  guide-book  the  traveller  can  take  with  him 
over  those  classic  regions.  In  some  respects  it  is  a  finer  poem 
than  the  Iliad.  There  is  perhaps  no  single  portion  equal  to 
such  tragic  passages  as  the  parting  of  Hector  and  Andromache, 
or  the  lament  over  Hector,  or  the  supplication  of  Priam  in  the 
tent  of  Achilles.  But  over  the  whole  Odyssey  grace  and 
amenity  reign,  shedding  a  poetic  charm  upon  the  commonest 
scenes  and  conditions  of  life.  The  house  of  the  old  swineherd 
Eumaeus  is  delineated  in  the  most  natural  manner,  with  all 
the  homely  circumstances  around  it ;  and  yet  so  felicitous  and 
tasteful,  as  well  as  true,  is  the  Homeric  management  of  the 
details,  that  it  is  transfigured  into  one  of  the  most  affecting 
conceptions  in  poetry. 

I  have  already  alluded  to  the  opinion  which  was  started  by 
some  of  the  ancient  critics,  that  the  Odyssey  is  not  from  the 
same  author  as  the  Iliad.  Certainly  there  would  be  no  impos- 
sibility in  this,  though  a  considerable  improbability  that  two 
poets  of  the  highest  order  of  genius  should  have  flourished  in 
the  same  country  in  the  same  age.  Nature  does  not  bring 
forth  her  Homers,  her  Davids,  her  Dantes,  her  Shakespeares,  in 
pairs.  Many  great  poets  may  dwell  together  at  the  same  time, 
but  only  one  greatest ;  many  great  artists  may  be  contempora- 
*ies,  but  only  one  greatest ;  many  great  orators  may  entrance 


THE   ODYSSEY.  Ill 

the  listening  multitudes,  but  only  one  greatest  can  at  the  same 
moment  fulmine  over  Greece.  The  best  critics  of  the  ancient 
schools  thought  that  the  opinion  of  the  chorizontes,  or  separat- 
ists, had  here  nothing  to  stand  upon,  and  rather  laughed  at  it 
as  a  piece  of  word-catching  than  respected  it  as  the  conclusion  of 
a  sound  judgment.  Modern  criticism  has,  however,  attempted 
the  same  process  of  dismemberment  as  with  the  Iliad,  though 
the  task  of  the  carver  has  been  found  more  difficult,  because 
the  plan  of  the  Odyssey  is  much  more  complicated  and  artful. 
There  are  several  distinct  threads  of  adventure,  all  leading  to 
the  same  point,  the  proper  adjustment  and  right  management 
of  which  required,  not  only  more  of  previous  reflection,  but  a 
more  constant  and  careful  arrangement  in  the  imagination,  and 
a  more  subtile  power  of  organizing,  to  carry  them  out,  and  to 
keep  them  always  subordinate  to  the  general  design. 

The  story  opens  with  a  description  of  Odysseus,  detained  on 
Calypso's  Isle,  where  he  has  already  been  for  seven  years,  the 
other  heroes  having  reached  their  homes  or  perished.  Now  the 
gods  resolve  that  he  shall  return  to  Ithaca.  Athene  is  sent  in 
the  form  of  Mentes  to  his  son  Telemachus,  to  urge  him  to 
visit  Pylos  and  Sparta  for  the  purpose  of  gaining  information 
concerning  his  long  absent  father.  He  commands  the  suitors, 
who  have  long  been  devouring  his  estate  in  revelry  while  await- 
ing the  decision  of  Penelope,  to  leave  the  house ;  but  they 
scornfully  refuse.  He  arrives  at  Pylos,  where  he  is  received 
with  hospitable  entertainment  by  the  old  but  still  hearty  Nes  - 
tor.  Thence,  accompanied  by  the  son  of  Nestor,  he  travels 
onward  to  Sparta,  where  he  is  recognized  by  Menelaus  and 
Helen,  now  living  amicably  together,  and  at  this  moment  cel- 
ebrating the  marriage  of  their  children. 

'■'  From  her  perftimed  chamber  wending 

Did  the  high-born  Helen  go ; 
Artemis  she  seemed  descending, 

Lady  of  the  golden  bow ; 
Then  Adraste,  bent  on  duty, 

Placed  for  her  the  regal  chair : 


112         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY 

Carpet  for  the  feet  of  beauty 
Spread  Alcippe,  soft  and  fair. 

Throned  then,  and  thus  attended, 

Helena  the  king  addressed: 
'  Menelaus,  Jove-descended, 

Knowest  thou  who  is  here  thy  guest  * 
Shall  I  tell  thee,  as  I  ponder, 

What  I  think,  or  false  or  true, 
Gazing  now  with  eyes  of  wonder 

On  the  stranger  whom  I  view  ? 
Shape  of  male  or  female  creature 

Like  to  bold  Odysseus'  son, 
Young  Telemachus,  in  feature 

As  this  youth  I  seen  have  none. 
From  the  boy  his  sire  departed, 

And  to  Ilion's  coast  he  came, 
When  to  valiant  war  he  started,  — 

All  for  me,  —  a  thing  of  shame ! ' 
And  Atreides  spake,  replying : 

'  Lady,  so  I  think  as  thou. 
Snch  the  glance  from  eyeball  flying  ; 

Such  his  hands,  his  feet,  his  brow ; 
Such  the  locks  his  forehead  gracing ; 

And  I  marked  how,  as  I  told 
Of  Odysseus'  deeds  retracing, 

Down  his  cheek  the  tear-drop  rolled  ' 

Nestor's  son  then  answered,  saying, 

« What  thou  speakest,  king,  is  true. 
He  who  at  the  board  is  sitting 

Is  of  wise  Odysseus  sprung. 
Modest  thoughts  his  age  befitting 

Hitherto  have  stilled  his  tongue. 
Many  a  son  feels  sorrow  try  him, 

While  his  sire  is  far  away, 
And  no  faithful  comrade  by  him, 

In  his  danger,  prop  or  stay. 
So  my  friend,  now  vainly  sighing 

O'er  his  father,  absent  long, 
Finds  no  hand,  on  which  relying, 

He  may  meet  attempted  wrong.' 


THE   ODYSSEY.  113 

Kindly  Menelaus  spake  him, 

Praised  his  sire  in  grateful  strain ; 
Told  his  whilom  hope  to  take  him 

As  a  partner  in  his  reign. 
All  were  softened  at  his  telling 

Of  the  days  now  past  and  gone ; 
Wept  Telemachus,  wept  Helen, 

Fell  the  tears  from  Nestor's  son. 

Then  to  banish  gloomy  thinking, 

Helen,  on  gay  fancy  bent, 
In  the  wine  her  friends  were  drinking 

Flung  a  famed  medicament,  — 
Grief-dispelling,  wrath-restraining, 

Sweet  oblivion  of  all  woe ; 
He  the  bowl  thus  tempered  draining 

Ne'er  might  feel  a  tear  to  flow, 
No,  not  e'en  if  she  who  bore  him 

And  his  sire  in  death  were  laid, 
Were  his  brother  slain  before  him, 

Or  his  son,  with  gory  blade. 
In  such  drugs  was  Helen  knowing ; 

Egypt  had  supplied  her  skill, 
Where  these  potent  herbs  are  growing, 

Some  for  good,  and  some  for  ill." 

Menelaus  then  relates  his  own  wanderings,  and  tells  all  he 
knows  of  Odysseus.  Meanwhile,  the  suitors,  having  learned 
the  departure  of  Telemachus,  lay  a  plot  to  murder  him  on  his 
return.  Calypso  now  receives  from  Hermes  the  command  of 
the  gods  to  let  Odysseus  go ;  and  reluctantly  she  obeys.  Odys- 
seus builds  a  ship  and  sails  away ;  but  on  the  eighteenth  day, 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Scheria,  his  vessel  is  shattered  by  a 
storm.  After  swimming  and  floating  for  two  days,  he  reaches 
the  island  of  the  Phseacians,  and,  being  somewhat  wearied, 
covers  himself  with  leaves  and  falls  asleep.  Here  he  is  found 
by  Nausicaa,  the  daughter  of  the  Phaeacian  king,  who  with 
her  maidens  has  come  from  the  city  to  wash  the  garments  of 
the  household  in  the  flowing  stream.  This  gives  occasion  foi 
one  of  the  most  delightful  descriptions  in  the  book.     She  takes 


114  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

pity  on  the  forlorn  condition  of  the  shipwrecked  and  naked  wan 
derer,  and  gives  him  food  and  clothes  ;  and  then  he  follows  her 
to  the  grove  of  Athene,  whence  she  returns  alone  to  the  city. 
Concealed  in  a  cloud  he  enters  the  town  and  the  palace  of  the 
king,  whose  queen  he  supplicates  to  help  him  on  his  home- 
ward way.  He  relates  his  departure  from  the  Ogygian  Isle. 
Alcinous  assembles  the  Phaeacian  princes,  requires  them  to 
furnish  a  ship  for  the  stranger,  and  invites  them  to  a  banquet. 
There  Demodocus,  the  bard,  sings  of  the  fall  of  Troy.  Odys- 
seus betrays  himself  by  weeping. 

"  So  sang  the  rapt  minstrel  the  blood-stirring  tale  ; 
But  the  cheek  of  Odysseus  waxed  deathly  and  pale. 
While  the  song  warbled  on  of  the  days  that  were  past, 
His  eyelids  were  wet  with  the  tears  falling  fast, 
As  wails  the  lorn  bride,  with  her  arms  clasping  round 
Her  own  beloved  husband  laid  low  on  the  ground. 
From  the  town,  with  the  people,  he  sallied  out  brave, 
His  country,  his  children,  from  insult  to  save. 
She  sees  his  last  gasping,  life  ready  to  part, 
And  she  flings  herself  on  him,  pressed  close  to  her  heart; 
Shrill  she  screams  o'er  the  dying,  while  enemies  near 
Beat  her  shoulders  and  back  with  the  pitiless  spear. 
They  bear  her  away  ;  as  a  slave  she  must  go, 
Forever  a  victim  of  toil  and  of  woe. 
Soon  wastes  her  sad  cheek  with  the  traces  of  grief. 
Sad  as  hers  showed  the  face  of  Ithaca's  chief. 
But  none  saw  the  tear-drops  which  fell  from  his  eye, 
Save  the  king  at  the  board,  who  was  seated  close  by." 

The  king,  now  informed  who  his  guest  is,  invites  him  to  re- 
late his  adventures  after  his  departure  from  Troy.  Through 
four  books  or  cantos  the  story  runs ;  and  a  more  varied,  grace- 
ful, and  wonderful  narrative  poet  never  invented.  Here,  I 
think,  the  bard  found  space  to  interweave  his  own  travels 
and  adventures,  and  the  seamen's  stories  he  had  picked  up 
from  the  Phoenician  mariners  in  his  early  youth ;  —  the  Cico- 
nians ;  the  Lotophagi ;  ^Eolus  and  his  bag  of  wind ;  Lsestrygoni 
ms,  big  as  mountains,  whose  king  ate  up  a  Greek  alive  ;  Circe 
ind  her  enchanting,  bestializing  cup ;  the  gloomy,  but   most 


THE   ODYSSEY.  115 

striking  scene  with  the  spirits  of  the  dead;  the  Sirens,  and  his 
crafty  escape  from  their  fatal  charm ;  Scylla  and  Charybais : 
the  slaying  of  the  oxen  of  the  Sun,  which,  in  the  opening  lines 
of  the  poem,  is  alluded  to  slightly,  but  with  consummate  art ; 
the  destruction  of  the  ship  and  crew  in  consequence,  and  the 
escape  of  the  hero  alone  to  the  island  of  Calypso,  where  we 
found  him  at  the  beginning.  So  far  nothing  can  exceed  the 
skill  which  the  conduct  of  the  complicated  action  displays. 

"  Thus  he  spake ;  and  they  all  remained  in  silence, 
And  they  were  entranced  by  the  charm  through  all  the  shady  halls." 

Loaded  with  presents,  and  furnished  with  a  ship,  he  departs 
at  evening  from  the  island  of  the  Phaeacians.  He  is  landed  on 
the  shore  of  Ithaca  asleep.  Athene  appears,  informs  him  of 
the  absence  of  his  son,  changes  his  form  into  that  of  a  beggar, 
gives  him  a  staff,  and  bids  him  go  to  Eumaeus  the  old  swine- 
herd, while  she  departs  for  Lacedaemon,  to  look  after  Telema- 
chus.  Eumaeus  now  describes  to  Odysseus  the  insolence  of 
the  suitors,  and  declares  his  incredulity  as  to  his  master's  re- 
turn. 

The  story  now  turns  to  Sparta,  where  Telemachus  is  warned 
in  a  vision  to  beware  of  the  snare  set  for  him  by  the  suitors, 
and  on  returning  to  Ithaca  to  visit  the  swineherd.  He  goes 
first  to  Pylos,  and  thence  embarks  for  his  native  island,  stop- 
ping, according  to  the  direction  of  Athene,  at  the  hut  of  Eu- 
maeus. Odysseus  there  makes  himself  known  to  his  son,  and 
they  consult  upon  the  means  of  slaying  the  suitors.  Telema- 
chus, the  next  day,  enters  the  city,  followed  by  Odysseus  in 
the  beggar's  garb,  who  is  met  by  the  suitors  with  contumely 
and  rude  insult.  The  riot  and  insolence  of  the  suitors  in- 
crease, as  if  madness  had  seized  upon  them  while  the  shadows 
of  fate  were  coming  down.  The  beggar  is  sent  for  by  Pe- 
nelope, who  has  been  told  that  he  has  news  of  Odysseus.  She 
explains  to  him  the  device  of  the  Web  by  which  the  suitors 
have  been  put  off.  The  old  house-nurse  recognizes  him,  \\  hile 
washing  his  feet  at  night,  by  the  scar  of  a  wound  he  had  re- 


116  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

ceived  in  hunting.  A  trial  of  archery  is  planned  for  the  next 
day,  on  which  the  feast  of  Apollo  is  to  be  celebrated,  and  the 
winner  is  to  claim  the  lady's  hand.  Odysseus  retires  to  a  rude 
couch  in  the  outer  court,  like  the  beggar  that  he  appears.  In 
the  restless  wakefulness  of  the  night,  he  hears  the  mirth  and 
laughter  of  the  faithless  women  of  his  household,  who  share 
in  the  debaucheries  of  the  suitors. 

"  As  growls  the  mastiff  standing  on  the  start, 
For  battle,  if  a  stranger's  foot  approach 
Her  cubs  new-whelped,  so  growled  Ulysses'  heart, 
While  wonder  filled  him  at  their  impious  deeds." 

He  hears  also  the  lamentation  of  his  wife  from  her  chambei , 
as  she  wakes  from  a  dream,  in  which  her  long-lost  Odysseus 
seemed  to  be  at  her  side.  He  prays  for  a  favorable  omen,  and 
for  propitious  words  from  some  one  in  the  house.  Thunder 
greets  his  ear ;  and  the  voice  of  a  belated  woman  at  the  mill, 
plying  her  task  for  the  service  of  the  rioters  long  after  the  rest 
are  asleep,  is  heard  supplicating  that  their  feast  this  day  may 

be 

"  the  last  that  in  Ulysses'  home 
The  suitors  shall  enjoy,  for  whom  I  drudge, 
With  aching  heart  and  trembling  knees  their  meal 
Grinding  continual." 

The  next  day  the  suitors  assemble,  and  prepare  to  celebrate 
the  New  Moon,  —  the  festival  of  Apollo.  The  trial  of  the  bow 
of  Odysseus  is  to  decide  the  fortune  of  the  suitors.  Penelope 
iscends  to  the  chamber  where  it  is  kept,  — 

"  With  lifted  haud  aloft,  took  down  the  bow 
In  its  embroidered  bow-case  safe  enclosed ; 
Then  sitting  there,  she  laid  it  on  her  knees, 
Weeping  aloud,  and  drew  it  from  the  case. 
Thus  weeping  over  it  long  time  she  sat 
Till,  satiate  at  the  last  with  grief  and  tears, 
Descending  by  the  palace  steps  she  sought 
Again  the  haughty  suitors,  with  the  bow- 
Elastic,  and  the  quiver  in  her  hand 
Replete  with  pointed  shafts,  a  deadly  store." 


THE   ODYSSEY.  117 

The  suitors  try  in  succession  the  mighty  bow,  but  not  one 
can  bend  it.  Meantime  Odysseus  makes  himself  known  to 
two  of  his  retainers,  of  whose  fidelity  he  has  become  assured. 
He  demands  to  make  trial  of  the  bow,  in  turn,  and  his  demand 
is  scornfully  rejected ;  but  the  noble  swineherd  bears  it  to  him, 
by  preconcerted  agreement,  and  the  doors  of  the  palace-hall 
are  secured. 

"  But  when  the  wary  hero  wise 
Had  made  his  hand  familiar  with  the  bow, 
Poising  it  and  examining  —  at  once  — 
As  when,  in  harp  and  song  adept,  a  bard 
Unlaboring  strains  the  chord  to  a  new  lyre, 
With  such  facility  Ulysses  bent 
His  own  huge  bow,  and  with  his  right  hand  played 
The  string,  which  in  its  quick  vibration  sang 
Clear  as  the  swallow's  voice.     Keen  anguish  seized 
The  suitors,  wan  grew  every  cheek,  and  Jove 
Grave  him  his  rolling  thunder  for  a  sign." 

He  draws  the  arrow-head  home. 

"  Right  through  all  the  rings 
From  first  to  last,  the  steel-charged  weapon  flew." 

Now  the  struggle  begins.  One  after  another  the  insolent 
rioters  fall,  pierced  by  the  arrowy  shower.  All  are  slain  ex- 
cept Phemius  the  singer,  and  Medon  the  herald ;  the  faithless 
maid-servants  are  hanged,  and  then  the  hall  is  cleared  of  the 
dead  bodies.  Odysseus  reappears  in  his  proper  form,  and  is 
recognized  by  his  wife  ;  and  they  relate  their  adventures  dur- 
ing their  long  separation  of  nearly  twenty  years. 

"  She  told  him  of  the  scorn  and  wrong 

She  long  had  suffered  in  her  house, 
From  the  detested  suitor  throng, 

Each  wooing  her  to  be  his  spouse,  — 
How,  for  their  feasts,  her  sheep  and  kine 
Were  slaughtered,  while  they  quaffed  her  wine 

In  plentiful  carouse. 
And  he,  the  noble  wanderer,  spoke 

Of  many  a  deed  of  peril  sore,  — 
Of  men  who  fell  beneath  his  stroke,  — 

Of  all  the  sorrowing  tasks  he  bore. 


118  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

She  listened  with  delighted  ear ; 
Sleep  never  came  her  eyelids  near, 
Till  all  the  tale  was  o'er. 

So  closed  the  tale.     Then  balmy  sleep, 

The  healer  of  all  human  woes, 
Did  their  relaxing  members  steep 

In  soft  oblivion  of  repose." 

The  next  day  Odysseus  leaves  the  city  to  visit  his  father,  the 
aged  Laertes.  The  singular  passage  in  which  Hermes  con- 
ducts the  souls  of  the  slain  suitors  occurs  here.  The  friends 
and  relatives  of  the  victims  form  a  conspiracy  against  the  vic- 
torious hero ;  the  rebels  are  attacked  by  Odysseus  and  his 
friends ;  but  the  battle  is  arrested  midway  by  the  interposition 
of  Athene,  and  Odysseus  grants  peace  and  pardon  to  the  foiled 
conspirators. 

This  outline  shows,  not  only  the  complication  of  the  struc- 
ture, but  the  coherence  of  the  parts.  A  careful  examination, 
of  course,  brings  out  more  conclusively  the  unity  of  plan  and 
the  premeditation  which  that  plan  implies.  A  comparison  of 
the  language  with  that  of  the  Iliad,  and  of  the  characteristic 
features  of  the  acting  personages,  —  making  due  allowance  for 
difference  of  subject,  of  time,  of  scenery,  and  of  circumstance, — 
shows  the  strongest  ground  for  believing  that  this  poem  also 
came  from  the  master  mind  of  him  who  wrought  the  Iliad 
This  train  of  argument  has  been  very  ably  carried  out  by  Mr. 
Mure,  in  the  second  volume  of  his  unfinished  work  on  Greek 
Literature. 

Among  the  most  striking  passages  in  the  Odyssey  is  the 
following  description  of  Argos,  the  old  dog,  who  alone  recog 
nizes  his  master  —  and  dies.  This  beautiful  incident  is  com- 
mented on  by  Professor  Wilson, with  a  depth  of  poetical  feeling, 
and  a  gushing  richness  of  expression,  such  as  only  Christophei 
North,  and  he  only  in  his  best  days,  could  command. 

"  Then  as  they  sp»ke,  upraised  his  head, 
Pricked  up  his  listening  ear, 
The  dog  whom  erst  Odysseus  bred,  — 
Old  Argos  lying  near. 


THE   ODYSSEY.  119 

He  bred  him,  but  his  fostering  skill 

To  himself  had  naught  availed ; 
For  Argos  joined  not  in  the  chase,  until 

The  king  had  to  Ilion  sailed. 
To  hunt  the  wild-goat,  hart,  and  hare, 

Him  once  young  huntsmen  sped  ; 
But  now  he  lay,  an  outcast  there, 

Absent  his  lord,  to  none  a  care. 

But  when  by  the  hound  his  king  was  known, 

Wagged  was  the  fawning  tail, 
Backward  his  close-clapped  ears  were  thrown, 
And  up  to  his  master's  side  had  he  flown  ; 

But  his  limbs  he  felt  to  fail. 
Odysseus  saw,  and  turned  aside, 

To  wipe  away  the  tear ; 
From  Eumaeus  he  chose  his  grief  to  hide, 
And  '  Strange,  passing  strange,  is  the  sight/  he  cried 

'  Of  such  a  dog  laid  here. 
Noble  his  shape,  but  I  cannot  tell 

If  his  worth  with  that  shape  may  suit , 
If  a  hound  he  be  in  the  chase  to  excel, 

For  fleetness  of  his  foot ; 
Or  worthless  as  a  household  hound, 

Whom  men  by  their  boards  will  place, 
For  no  merit  of  strength  or  speed  renowned, 

But  admired  for  shapely  grace.' 
'  He  is  the  dog  of  one  now  dead, 

In  a  far  land  away ; 
But  if  you  had  seen,'  the  swineherd  said, 

'  This  dog  in  his  better  day, 
When  Odysseus  hence  his  warriors  led 

To  join  in  the  Trojan  fray, 
His  strength,  his  plight,  his  speed  so  light, 

You  had  with  wonder  viewed ; 
No  beast  that  once  had  crossed  his  sight 

In  the  depths  of  the  darkest  wood 
'Scaped  him,  as,  tracking  sure  and  right, 

He  on  its  trace  pursued. 
But  now,  all  o'er,  in  sorrows  sore, 

He  pines  in  piteous  wise ; 
The  king  upon  some  distant  shore 

In  death  has  closed  his  eyes ; 


-20  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

And  the  careless  women  here  no  more 

Tend  Argos  as  he  lies  ; 
For  slaves  who  find  their  former  lord 

No  longer  holds  the  sway 
No  fitting  service  will  aftbrd, 

Nor  just  obedience  pay. 
Far-seeing  Jove's  resistless  power 

Takes  half  away  the  soul 
From  him  who  of  one  servile  hour 

Has  felt  the  dire  control.' 
This  said,  the  swineherd  passed  the  gate, 

And  entered  the  dwelling  tall, 
Where  proud  in  state  the  suitors  sate 

Within  the  palace  hall. 
And  darksome  death  checked  Argos'  breath 

When  he  saw  his  master  dear ; 
For  he  died,  his  master's  eye  beneath, 

All  in  that  twentieth  year." 

Several  other  poems  were  attributed  to  Homer.  Among 
these  was  the  Margites,  a  satirical  work  upon  some  famous 
dunce,  of  which  only  three  or  four  lines  are  preserved. 

"  Many  the  things  that  he  knew,  but  in  all  things  his  knowledge  was  worthless. 
Him  nor  a  digger  of  earth,  nor  ploughman,  the  Immortals  created. 
Only  a  dunce  was  he,  and  he  blundered  in  all  he  attempted." 

The  Battle  of  the  Frogs  and  Mice  —  the  Batrachomyomachia 
—  is  always  included  in  the  collections  of  the  Homeric  poems. 
It  is,  however,  without  doubt,  a  much  later  production.  The 
composition  is  in  the  style  of  travesty,  which  hardly  belongs  to 
the  age  of  heroic  minstrelsy.  Satire,  epigram,  numorous  deline- 
ation, and  the  mock-heroic  imply  the  manners  and  the  contrasts 
of  character  of  dissipated,  not  to  say  fashionable  society.  I  cer- 
tainly do  not  mean  to  deny  to  Homer  the  possession  of  wit,  but 
only  the  exercise  of  it  in  this  particular  manner.  The  spirit  of 
his  age  was  not  inconsistent  with  a  humorous  view  of  life,  or 
with  touches  of  satire  in  the  portraiture  of  individual  characters. 
I  doubt  not  Homer  had  many  a  hearty  laugh  at  the  whims  of 
opinion,  and  absurdities  of  conduct,  in  all  the  societies  he  fre- 


THE   BATRACHOMTOMACHIA.  121 

quented.  The  description  of  the  malicious  buffoon  Thersites — 
the  ugliest  man  that  went  to  Troy  —  shows  no  feeble  power  of 
ludicrous  delineation  ;  the  trick  played  by  Odysseus  upon  the 
one-eyed  Cyclops  was  brought  about  by  a  pun ;  and  even 
the  immortal  gods  break  into  a  fit  of  inextinguishable  laughter, 
as  they  see  the  halting  Hephaistos  putting  on  the  airs  and 
graces  of  a  cup-bearer. 

But  though  Homer  could  not  have  been  insensible  to  the 
humorous  side  of  life,  his  was  not  the  time  nor  his  the  tem- 
per to  make  it  a  prominent  element  in  poetry.  Burlesque  and 
travesty  come  after  the  mind  of  man  has  gone  the  round  of 
earnest  sentiment  and  natural  expression.  They  require,  not 
only  the  whims  and  humors  that  grow  out  of  a  state  of  society 
that  has  long  since  passed  this  stage,  but  the  previous  existence 
of  a  literature  and  a  language  fitted  for  all  the  quips  and  quib- 
bles of  witty  perversion  and  bantering  conversation,  —  conditions 
not  fulfilled  in  Homer's  time.  Nor,  had  they  been,  was  it  likely 
that  he  would  have  made  his  own  gorgeous  creations,  wherein 
he  had  poured  the  treasures  of  his  heart  and  brain,  the  theme 
of  ludicrous  play,  of  perversion,  banter,  and  parody.  These 
considerations,  aside  from  the  internal  evidence,  on  which  I  do 
not  lay  so  much  stress,  convince  me  that,  though  the  poem  is  a 
happy  imitation  of  the  style  of  an  earlier  age,  it  was  the  produc- 
tion of  some  Athenian  wit,  and  belongs  to  a  late  period  even 
of  Attic  literature.  It  is  certainly  a  very  fine  specimen  of  the 
burlesque. 

The  drollery  consists  in  a  witty  application  of  the  hexameter 
to  such  a  subject ;  in  parodying  the  long  and  somewhat  boast- 
ful speeches  of  the  warriors  in  the  Iliad,  their  prolix  geneal- 
ogies and  the  minute  description  of  their  arming ;  and,  lastly, 
in  the  significance  of  the  names.  In  the  Iliad,  the  father  of 
Achilles  is  Peleus ;  the  author  of  this  little  poem  chooses  to 
derive  it  from  Pelos  (mud),  and  gives  it  to  the  father  of  the 
principal  hero  among  the  frogs.  All  the  other  names  are  com- 
pounded in  such  a  way  as  to  express  the  characters  and  qual- 
ities of  those  who  bear  them,  and  to  make  a  ludicrous  contrast 


122         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

between   their  meaning  and  the  sonorous   loftiness    oi    their 
sound. 

The  story  is  this.  A  mouse,  running  away  from  a  weasel, 
quenches  his  thirst  at  the  margin  of  a  lake.  A  frog  comes  up 
and  politely  offers  to  take  him  on  his  back  and  show  him  the 
wonders  of  the  deep.  The  invitation  is  accepted,  ana  all  goes 
on  swimmingly  until  the  splashing  of  the  water  frightens  the 
mouse  and  his  ally.  A  water-snake  rears  his  head,  and  the 
frog  in  terror  dives  to  the  bottom,  leaving  the  poor  mouse  to 
sink  into  a  watery  grave.  He  struggles  for  a  time,  but,  finding 
his  fate  inevitable,  utters  a  horrible  denunciation  of  the  false 
and  cowardly  frog,  and  gives  up  the  ghost.  The  father  of  the 
deceased  is  the  king  of  the  mice,  and  rallies  his  martial  forces 
to  the  field  to  avenge  so  dire  an  injury. 

"  '  Three  sons  had  I,  three,  wretched  three ;  —  and  now  not  one  is  left  to  me. 
Out  of  his  hole  the  watching  cat  dragged  one,  —  a  curst  mishap ; 
And  monster  man,  with  cunning  fraught,  my  second  in  an  engine  caught, 
A  new-invented  mouse-destroying  engine,  called  a  trap. 
We  had  this  third,  our  darling,  sad  to  me  and  to  his  mother  sad. 

But  let  us  arm,  and  arm  with  speed,  —  for  this  the  villain  frog  shall  bleed ; 

Arm,  arm,  be  clad  in  mail  complete,  and  let  us  vengeance  take,' 

He  said.     At  once  to  arms  they  flew,  and  Mars  himself  their  weapons  drew. 

Split  bean-shells  green  served  them  for  greaves,  which  they  were  nibbling  at 

Deftly  all  night ;  a  cat's  stout  hide  their  breastplates  happily  supplied, 

Strengthened  with  interlacing  reeds  j  right  glad  they  skinned  the  cat ; 

The  oval  of  a  lamp  their  shield ;  the  needle  for  a  lance  they  wield, 

Long,  piercing  keen,  nor  Mars  a  sharper  weapon  sported ; 

Nor  helmet  fitted  e'er  so  well  as  on  their  heads  the  walnut-shell." 

The  frogs  also  arm  themselves,  and  meet  the  enemy  on  dry 
land. 

"  All  arm,  and  straight  the  mallow  leaves  they  wrap  their  legs  for  greaves ; 
Before  their  breasts  the  broad  beet-leaves  for  breastplates  they  advance  ; 
The  colewort  leaf  supplied  the  shield,  nor  weapon  wanting  was  to  wield  ; 
Each  a  tough-pointed  bulrush  held  before  him  for  a  lance ; 
And  for  their  helmets  furbished  well,  they  simply  wore  a  cockle-shell." 

The  gods,  meanwhile,  resolve  on  neutrality,  or  non-interven 
tion  ;  Minerva  being  enraged  with  the  mice  for  having  nibbled 


THE   BATRACHOMYOMACHIA.  123 

one  of  her  dresses,  and  with  the  Frogs  for  keeping  her  awake 
by  their  croaking.  A  terrible  battle  begins ;  incredible  deeds 
of  valor  are  done  on  either  side,  and  many  a  hero  of  world- 
wide fame  bites  the  dust.  Just  as  the  Frogs  are  about  to  be 
utterly  cut  off  from  the  land  of  the  living,  Jupiter  breaks  his 
neutrality.  He  first  tries  to  stop  the  battle  by  thunder  and 
lightning;  but,  finding  this  means  unavailing,  he  orders  a  pla- 
toon of  cuirassiers  to  assail  the  flanks  of  the  victorious  Mice. 
They  execute  the  manoeuvre. 

"Sudden  they  take  the  field,  —  crook-clawed,  round,  anvil-backed,  and  pincer- 
jawed, 
Lob-sided,  marching  all  awry,  shell-clampt,  and  bare,  and  bony ; 
Shining-shouldered,  broad  in  back,  grasping  close  though  hands  they  lack ; 
With  their  eyes  below  their  breasts,  looking  stern  and  strong,  — 
Called  Crabs,  —  with  purpose  firm  and  fixed,  they  march  the  combatants  be. 

twixt, 
Discomfiting  the  furious  Mice,  who  would  have  soon  turned  tail, 
But  tails  they  'd  none,  —  the  Crabs  bit  through  tails,  hands,  and  feet." 

The  Mice,  thus  mutilated  and  sore  beaten,  make  for  their 
holes,  and  the  Frogs  croak  over  their  irreparable  losses. 

I  have  ventured  to  put  some  of  the  opening  lines  into  sucn 
hexameters  as  my  creeping  Muse  allowed. 

"  First  I  invoke  the  chorus  of  Muses,  from  Helicon's  mountain, 
Into  my  breast  to  descend,  and  inspire  the  melody  tuneful, 
Which  upon  tablets  outspread  on  my  knees  I  lately  have  written,  — 
Endless  contention  and  war-rousing  action  of  Ares  ; 
Hoping  to  bring  it  to  hearing  of  all  articulate  mortals, 
How  the  hosts  of  the  Mice  on  the  Frogs  their  valor  displaying, 
Equalled  the  deeds  of  the  Giants,  the  earth-born  monsters  aforetime. 
So  ran  the  tale  among  mortals,  and  such  the  beginning  of  battle. 
Once  on  a  time  a  mouse,  from  the  chase  of  a  weasel  escaping, 
Came  to  the  margin  athirst,  and  dipped  his  soft  chin  in  the  wavelet, 
Drinking  the  honey-sweet  water ;  and  him  then  espied  there 
Pond-grace,  the  far-famed,  and  thus  a  brief  salutation  delivered. 
« Stranger,  who  art  thou,  and  whence  to  the  shore  comest  ?      Who  is  thj 

father  f 
Tell  me  the  truth  and  the  whole  truth,  lest  I  detect  thee  in  lying. 
For  should  I  find  thee  my  friendship  deserving,  home  I  '11  conduct  thee; 
Gifts  will  I  give  thee  many  and  noble,  with  fair  entertainment. 


L24         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

I  am  Puff-jaw,  the  Prince,  who,  all  the  pond  over 

Held  in  high  honor,  am  king  of  the  Frogs,  sole  ruling  in  power. 

Mudkin  the  sire  who  begat  me,  my  mother  was  Damp-queen  the  famous, 

Wedded  in  love  on  the  banks  of  Eridanus,  far-flowing  river. 

Thee,  too,  I  see  to  be  handsome  and  mighty,  far  above  others, 

Royally  sceptred  in  peace,  and  a  fighter  in  war-fields. 

Come  then  and  tell  me  at  once  thy  name  and  thy  lineage.' 

Him  then  Snatch-crumb  answered,  and  these  were  the  words  that  he  uttered 

'  Why  dost  thou  ask  me  my  race,  O  friend  ?    It  is  known  unto  all  men, 

And  to  the  Gods  on  high  and  the  winged  birds  of  the  heavens. 

Snatch-crumb  my  name  is ;  I  boast  to  be  Bread-biter's  offspring,  the  valiant 

Lick-meal,  my  mother,  was  daughter  of  King  Bacon-nibbler  the  mighty  ; 

And  I  was  born  in  a  hole,  and  fed  with  almonds  and  dried  figs, 

Sweetmeats  of  all  kinds  and  toothsome  in  taste,  such  as  mouselings  are  fond  of 

How  canst  thou  make  me  thy  friend  who  in  nothing  am  like  thee  • 

Thy  life  and  dwelling  are  under  the  waters  ;  but  my  way  of  living 

Is  to  eat  ajl  that  man  does ;  nor  'scapes  me  the  thrice-kneaded  bread-loaf 

Packed  in  the  well-rounded  basket,  nor  gingerbread  seasoned  with  spices ; 

Ham,  too,  I  like  in  thick  slices ;  and  liver,  white-robed  in  fat  caul ; 

Fresh-curdled  cheese,  made  of  rich  new  milk  from  the  dairy ; 

Honey-cake  nice,  too,  which  even  the  immortals  long  to  devour ;  — 

Whatso  cooks  prepare  for  the  revels  of  word-speaking  mortals, 

Tables  adorning  with  delicate  dishes  from  all  the  world  over. 

Nor  did  I  ever  fly  from  the  terrible  shout  of  the  battle ; 

Always  I  rushed  to  the  onset,  and  mingled  with  foremost  champions. 

Man  is  no  terror  to  me,  though  huge  is  the  body  he  carries ; 

Creeping  up  over  his  bed,  I  nibble  the  tip  of  his  finger ; 

Seizing  his  heel,  I  bite  it,  but  he  is  unconscious  of  smarting ; 

Sweet  is  his  slumber ;  nor  flies  it  away,  so  neatly  I  nibble. 

Two  things,  however,  I  fear,  of  all  that  this  earth-ball  inhabit,  — 

Hawk  and  the  cat,  who  cause  me  great  sorrow  forever ; 

Traps,  too,  so  doleful  where  false  Fate  watches  in  ambush. 

Horribly  fear  I  the  cat,  Grimalkin,  most  crafty  of  mousers, 

Chasing  one  into  a  hole,  and  clawing  him  out  in  a  twinkle. 

Radish  I  eat  not,  nor  cabbage,  nor  pumpkin  so  plump  and  so  yellow. 

Pale-green  horehound  I  hate,  nor  pick  up  my  living  on  parsley. 

Dishes  like  these  are  for  you,  who  live  submerged  in  cold  water.' 

Smiling,  Prince  Puff-jaw  replied,  and  these  were  the  words  that  he  answered: 

•  Stranger,  thou  braggest  too  loud  of  thy  stomach.      We  too  have  something 

Many  the  marvels  by  water,  and  wondrous  on  land,  to  be  looked  at ; 

Double  the  forage  to  Frogs  was  given  by  mighty  Kronion ; 

Leaping  on  land,  or  hiding  our  bodies  under  the  water, 

Dwell  we  amphibious ;  in  elements  twofold  our  houses 


THE   BATRACHOMYOMACHIA.  125 

Wouldst  thou  all  this  see  with  thine  own  eyes  ?     Handy  the  way  is 

Mount  on  my  back,  fast-holding  thereon  lest  thou  shouldst  perish, 

Then  shalt  thou  joyfully  come  to  my  well-furnished  mansion  in  safety.' 

So  then  he  spake,  and  gave  him  his  back,  and  swiftly  he  mounted, 

Clasping  the  Frog's  soft  neck  with  his  arms,  and  jauntily  leaping. 

First  he  was  pleased  as  he  saw  the  neighboring  bays  and  the  inlets, 

Gratified,  too,  with  the  swimming  of  Puff-jaw;  but  all  of  a  sudden, 

Splashed  with  the  purple  waves  that  were  roaring  around  him,  he  blubbered. 

Vainly  lamenting  his  folly  and  tearing  his  hair  out  by^  handfals. 

Under  his  belly  he  drew  up  his  feet,  and  his  heart  in  his  bosom 

Beat  at  the  scene  unaccustomed,  and  longed  to  return  to  the  dry  land. 

Dreadful  the  groans  that  he  uttered  by  compulsion  of  terror  that  froze  him. 

Spreading  his  tail  like  an  oar  at  first  he  paddled  the  waters, 

Praying  the  gods  to  help  him  ashore  from  the  waves  that  were  surging ; 

Shrilly  he  squeaked,  and  such  was  the  speech  that  he  spluttered." 


LECTURE    VIII. 

THE  HOMERIC    HYMNS.  —  HESIOD.  —  GREEK   Ml  SIC. 

Besides  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  the  genuine  works  of  Ho- 
mer, and  the  Margites  and  the  Frogs  and  Mice,  which  are  un 
questionably  the  productions  of  a  later  age,  there  is  a  consider- 
able body  of  poetical  compositions,  bearing  the  name  of  Hymns, 
which  also  pass  under  his  name.  I  have  already  mentioned 
the  temple  songs  ascribed  by  tradition  to  the  priestly  bards, 
Olen,  Orpheus,  Linus,  Musaeus,  and  others,  long  before  the 
Ionian  age.  This  species  of  composition  lasted  through  the 
epoch  of  Homer,  and  came  down  into  the  later  times,  even 
as  far  as  the  era  of  Alexandrian  culture.  The  oldest  pieces 
now  preserved  are  the  Homeric  Hymns,  so  called,  written 
mostly  in  a  gay  and  festive  spirit,  and  not  showing  the  most 
profound  reverence  for  the  deities  in  whose  honor  they  were 
composed.  They  are  of  various  lengths,  and  amount  to  nearly 
fifty  in  number.  In  language  they  are  marked  by  the  same 
free-flowing  and  beautiful  rhythm  which  is  the  charm  of  the 
Homeric  hexameter ;  and  from  their  whole  tone,  we  can  hardly 
place  them  much  later  than  Homer;  for  they  are  perfectly 
Ionian  in  spirit,  and  quite  free  from  the  plaintive,  egotistical 
expression  which  runs  through  the  elegiac  poets  of  Ionia,  at  a 
later  period,  when  public  and  private  life  had  lost  the  exuber- 
ance of  youth,  and  the  shadow  of  impending  disaster  had  fallen 
upon  the  land. 

The  longest,  and  perhaps  the  most  beautiful,  is  the  Hymn  tc 
Apollo.  This  is  particularly  interesting,  because  the  poet,  who- 
ever he  was,  speaks  of  himself,  his  blindness,  and  his  home  in 
Chios ;  and  these  verses  of  personal  history  have,  been  apph0  * 
•o  Homer. 


THE   HOMERIC   HYMNS  127 

•<  Virgins,  farewell !  and  0,  remember  me 
Hereafter,  when  some  stranger  from  the  sea, 

A  hapless  wanderer,  may  your  isle  explore, 
And  ask  you  maids,  of  all  the  bards  you  boast 
Who  sings  the  sweetest  and  delights  you  most,  — 
O,  answer  all,  —  <  A  blind  old  man  and  poor,  — 
Sweetest  he  sings,  —  and  dwells  on  Chios'  rocky  shore.'  " 

The  Hymn  to  Hermes  is  a  good  example  of  the  laughing 
manner  in  which  the  writers  of  these  Hymns  sometimes  dealt 
with  the  history  and  character  of  their  deities.  It  has  also  its 
antiquarian  value.  The  god  is  born  at  daybreak ;  at  noon  he 
has  constructed  a  lyre  out  of  the  shell  of  a  tortoise  he  had 
caught  at  the  mouth  of  his  native  cavern  ;  at  evening  he  steals 
a  herd  of  Apollo's  cows,  which  he  forces  to  walk  backward  to 
baffle  pursuit ;  two  of  them  he  kills  and  cooks,  and  before 
dawn  the  next  morning  gets  into  his  cradle.  Apollo  discovers 
the  theft,  finds  the  young  rogue  pretending  to  be  asleep  under 
the  bed-clothes,  and  charges  him  with  the  crime.  The  infant 
phenomenon  replies  in  a  most  ingenious  defence.  I  quote  a 
few  lines  from  Shelley's  spirited  translation :  — 

"  An  ox-stealer  should  be  both  tall  and  strong, 

And  I  am  but  a  little  new-born  thing, 
Who,  yet  at  least,  can  think  of  nothing  wrong :  — 

My  business  is  to  suck,  and  sleep,  and  fling 
The  cradle-clothes  about  me  all  day  long,  — 

Or,  half  asleep,  hear  my  sweet  mother  sing, 
And  to  be  washed  in  water  clean  and  warm, 
And  hushed  and  kissed  aua  isyf  recure  from  harm. 
O,  let  not  e'er  this  quarrel  be  averred  ! 

The  astounded  Gods  would  laugh  at  you,  if  e'er 
You  should  allege  a  story  so  absurd, 

As  that  a  new-born  infant  forth  could  fare 
Out  of  his  house,  after  a  savage  herd. 

I  was  born  yesterday,  —  my  small  feet  are 
Too  tender  for  the  roads  so  hard  and  rough  :  — 
And  if  you  think  that  this  is  not  enough, 
I  swear  a  great  oath,  by  my  father's  head, 

That  I  stole  not  ycur  cows,  and  that  I  know 
Of  no  one  else  who  might,  or  could,  or  did. 

Whatever  things  cows  are  I  do  not  know ; 
For  I  have  onlv  heard  the  name." 


128  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

When  the  matter  is  laid  before  Zeus,  the  young  rascal  has 
the  face  to  say  :  — 

"  Great  father !  you  know  clearly  beforehand 
That  all  which  I  shall  say  to  you  is  sooth ; 
I  am  a  most  veracious  person,  and 
Totally  unacquainted  with  untruth." 

Zeus  laughs  heartily  to  hear  his  hopeful  progeny 

"  give  such  a  plausible  account, 
And  every  word  a  lie," 

but  tells  him  to  make  restitution.  Hermes  complies,  and  gives 
to  Apollo,  by  way  of  douceur,  the  stringed  shell ;  and  then,  as 
with  the  romantic  damsels  in  the  play,  a  sudden  thought  strikes 
them,  and  they  swear  an  eternal  friendship. 

Many  other  poems,  of  which  the  titles  alone  have  come  down 
to  us,  were  ascribed  to  Homer.  The  two  or  three  centuries 
between  Homer  and  the  lyrical  poets  were  filled  with  a  series 
of  epic  compositions,  by  poets  of  Asia  and  the  Grecian  main- 
land. They  are  called  the  Cyclic  Poets,  and  are  described  by 
an  ancient  scholiast  "  as  those  who  treated,  in  a  circle  round 
the  Iliad,  the  events  of  previous  or  subsequent  history,  or  those 
derived  from  or  connected  with  Homer's  own  immediate  sub- 
jects of  celebration."  They  ranged,  in  truth,  from  the  creation 
of  the  world  down  to  the  return  of  the  heroes  from  Troy. 
Titles,  epitomes,  and  short  passages  are  all  we  have  to  show  for 
this  immense  mass  of  literature,  which,  in  the  dates  of  its  com- 
position, extends  from  the  period  immediately  following  Homer 
to  the  seventh  century  before  Christ,  or  even  a  little  later.  A 
remarkable  fact,  to  which  I  have  already  alluded,  in  regard  to 
this  long  series  of  epics,  is  that  their  authors  passed  by  the  sub- 
jects of  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  thus  recognizing,  not  only  the 
superiority  of  their  author,  but  his  indefeasible  right  to  the 
ground  he  had  occupied ;  and  this  is  what  the  scholiast  refers 
to  when  he  speaks  of  the  "  circle  round  the  Iliad." 

The  Homeric  poetry  was  the  bright,  consummate  flower  of  a 
poetical  existence  under  favorable  circumstances.     The  mind 


THE  HOMERIC   HYMNS.  129 

of  its  author  grasped  all  the  knowledge  of  his  age,  and  saw  the 
picture  of  human  life  in  its  heights  and  depths  clearly  reveal- 
ing itself.  He  had  measured  the  strength  of  human  passion, 
and  sounded  the  abysses  of  the  heart.  Over  all  the  varied  and 
contrasted  scenes  which  his  genius  touched,  he  poured  the 
illumination  of  a  poetic  spirit,  which  still  draws  to  the  heroic 
age  of  youthful  Greece  the  fiery  heart  of  kindred  youth,  wher- 
ever the  love  of  song  and  the  passion  for  literary  culture  have 
rooted  themselves.  The  reign  of  Homer  lasted  through  the 
whole  existence  of  the  Greeks,  and  his  supremacy  is  still  undis- 
puted. The  wonderful  beauty  which  he  breathed  into  the 
Ionian  speech  consecrated  it  forever  in  its  several  stages  as 
the  chosen  language  of  what  was  loveliest  and  loftiest  in 
thought.  In  Athens,  his  works  were  the  basis  of  literary  edu- 
catic  n,  and  were  learned  by  heart  at  school.  Lyric  and  dra- 
matic poets  drew  from  him  as  from  an  inexhaustible  fountain. 
jEschylus  said  that  his  own  works  were  only  the  crumbs 
which  he  had  thankfully  gathered  up  from  the  Homeric  ban- 
quet. Plato's  genius  was  enriched  by  the  overflowing  tide  of 
Homeric  thought ;  but  he  wisely  chose  to  be  the  first  of  prose- 
writers,  rather  than  the  second  of  poets.  The  sculptors  and 
the  painters  reproduced  the  fair  and  august  forms  which  the 
inward  vision  of  the  Chian  singer  had  first  seen  in  their  terror 
and  their  beauty.  When  the  constructive  genius  of  later 
times  crowned  the  hill-tops  of  Hellas  and  Ionia  with  those 
temples,  wherein  grace  and  grandeur,  massiveness  and  light- 
ness, solid  strength  and  delicate  proportion,  are  so  exquisitely 
blended,  that  their  fallen  and  broken  remains  are  our  best 
teachers,  —  then  the  forms  of  men  and  gods  which  adorned  the 
outer  walls,  or  dwelt  in  the  marble  shrines,  were  the  heroes 
and  gods  as  Homer  had  conceived  and  moulded  them.  At 
Dlympia,  where  all  of  Hellenic  lineage  assembled  every  four 
years,  the  statue  of  Zeus,  wrought  in  ivory  and  gold  by  the 
hand  of  Pheidias,  was  the  Homeric  father  of  gods  and  men, 
from  whose  head  the  locks  ambrosial  waved,  and  who  shook 
great  Olympus  with  his  nod.     Tne  Acropolis  of  Athens,  the 

vol.   i.  9 


130         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  A>*D  POETRY. 

central  point  of  religious  observance  and  aesthetic  cult  are,  was 
an  earthly  Olympus,  peopled  with  the  creations  of  Homer 
Thus  vast  was  the  influence  over  every  form  of  human  thought 
and  every  region  of  imagination  —  song,  painting,  plastic  art, 
eloquence,  education  —  of  that  one  transcendent  mind,  which 
rose  with  the  dawn  of  European  poetry,  and  filled  with  its 
light  the  morning  sky  of  Ionia. 

If  we  compare  these  works  with  the  great  poems  of  the  Gan- 
ges, we  see  how  strangely  the  rigid  laws  of  Hellenic  taste  con- 
trast with  the  exaggeration,  the  mysticism,  the  gigantic  imper- 
sonation of  an  overwhelming  Nature,  the  monstrous  conception 
of  divine  things  and  supernatural  beings,  which  swell  in  the 
current  of  Sanscrit  thought ;  and  with  the  loose  varieties  of 
rhythmical  structure,  the  languid  flow  of  indeterminate  meas- 
ure, the  weak  connections,  careless  transitions,  countless  epi- 
sodes, and  desperate  length,  which  mark  the  epic  style  of  the 
Sanscrit.  Here,  the  powers  of  nature  are  brought  out  of  chaos, 
and  overmastered  by  the  spirit  of  order ;  they  are  freed  from 
the  deformities  of  unbridled  imagination,  and  clothed  in  the 
serenest  attributes  and  most  graceful  forms ;  and  the  scheme  of 
epic  composition  is  brought  within  those  limits  of  law  —  so  well 
traced  out  by  Aristotle  in  another  branch  of  poetic  art  —  which 
neither  confuse  nor  exhaust  our  powers  of  conception  and  com- 
prehension. 

If  we  turn  westward,  the  terms  of  the  comparison  change. 
Rome  had  her  early  ballads,  as  Niebuhr  has  shown,  and  Ma- 
caulay  has  beautifully  reconstructed  them  ;  but  Virgil,  a  great 
ooet,  was  not  a  Homer.  Mediaeval  Europe  was  vocal  with 
epic  minstrelsy ;  but  the  last  step  was  not  taken,  because  the 
learned  and  vulgar  languages  were  separated  by  impassable 
barriers.  While  the  ballad-monger  —  how  like  and  yet  how 
lifferent  from  the  aoiSos  of  Ionia  —  was  entertaining  his  rude 
peasant  circles,  or  cheering  the  barbaric  splendors  of  the  feudal 
castle  with  songs  in  his  native  dialect,  the  scholar  meditated, 
m  his  retirement,  some  canticle  in  the  forgotten  tones  of  the 
Roman  tongue,  and  the  monk  relieved  the  grim  solitude  of  his 


THE   HOMERIC   HYMNS.  181 

cloister  by  turning  into  uncouth  hexameters  the  tales  of  fight 
or  foray  which  he  nad  picked  up  in  his  occasional  sallies  into 
the  fresh  air  of  the  outer  world.  In  this  separation  of  knowl- 
edge and  action,  of  clerical  and  lay,  of  learned  and  popular, 
of  the  cloister  and  the  castle,  no  Homer  could  be  born. 
And  when  the  vulgar  dialects  had  fought  their  way  through 
the  obstacles  of  antiquated  Latinity,  and  had  given  to  the 
world  the  singular,  but  short-lived  beauty  of  Provencal  song, 
when  ballad  poetry  bloomed  among  the  mountain  fastnesses 
of  Greece  beyond  the  reach  of  the  Turk,  througt  the  forests 
of  Germany,  through  the  fair  fields  of  Italy  and  Sicily,  ovei 
sunny  France  and  romantic  Spain,  in  merry  England,  and 
through  the  whole  North  of  Europe,  with  an  affluence  of  poetic 
spirit  and  of  epic  elements  which  astonishes  us  in  the  great 
collections  of  the  popular  poetry  of  these  countries  and  lan- 
guages, still  the  growth  of  epic  art  was  broken,  and  no  Homer 
rose  to  combine  the  scattered  parts,  and  to  stamp  upon  them 
the  impress  of  his  uniting  and  organizing  mind.  Italy  had  her 
Dante,  and,  later,  a  long  line  of  great  poets  of  chivalry ;  Spain 
had  her  Poem  of  the  Cid ;  Germany,  her  Nibelungen  song ; 
England,  her  Anglo-Saxon  Beowulf,  rude,  strong,  and  terse, 
and  in  her  English  age,  Spenser  and  Milton,  famous  poets  and 
illustrious  men  >ut  a  Homer  was  not  among  them,  standing 
at  the  head  of  &.  line,  giving  to  a  living  art  its  last  consummate 
finish,  and  teaching,  alone  and  unapproached,  the  race  of  kin- 
dred men  that  should  follow  him. 

The  peculiarity  of  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  may  be  summed 
tip  in  a  few  words.  They  hold  their  place  in  the  natural  growth 
„f  a  popular  poetry,  embodying  in  the  richest  rhythmical  forms 
the  heroic  life  of  the  ancestry  of  the  poet's  own  contempo- 
raries, —  a  life  not  then  too  old  to  come  within  the  range  of 
the  popular  sympathy ;  and  they  stand,  in  spirit  and  substance, 
in  subject  and  form,  in  the  closest  relations  with  the  popular 
poetry  of  the  Greeks  in  after  time  s. 

One  man  only,  and  he  in  another  fcrm  of  art,  holds  an  equal 
eminence   with   Homer.      The   Greeks  seem  almost   to   have 


132  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

had  a  forewarning  of  the  mighty  rival  who  should  take  the  stih 
vacant  height  of  the  double-crested  Parnassus,  and  forever 
stand  by  his  side.  Homer  and  Shakespeare  have  alone  the 
right  to  hold  those  heaven-kissing  stations,  inaccessible  to  other 
mortal  footsteps. 

Thus  far  we  have  considered  poetical  culture  among  the  Asi- 
atic Greeks  alone.  We  are  not,  however,  to  suppose  that  the 
mainland  of  Hellas  was  during  all  this  time  without  the  solace 
of  song.  No  doubt  the  nations  and  tribes  that  remained  at 
home  were  far  behind  their  brethren  in  Asia  in  all  that  embel- 
lishes life.  Still  they  had  the  same  character,  the  same  lan- 
guage, the  same  ethical  ideas.  Outward  nature  was  less  favor- 
able. A  less  genial  climate,  a  harder  soil,  greater  distance  from 
the  old  civilizations,  retarded  the  growth  of  the  arts  at  first, 
although  finally  a  more  healthy  harvest,  of  longer  duration,  was 
reaped  there.  At  any  rate,  the  epic  poetry  of  Ionia  reached 
the  mainland,  and  circulated  wherever  the  Hellenic  race  was 
found.  Not  long  after  the  age  of  Homer,  there  sprang  up  a 
style  of  composition  called  Epic,  mainly  because  it  was  written 
in  the  epic  style  and  language,  but  widely  differing  in  sub- 
stance from  both  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey.  Hesiod  of  Ascra, 
in  Boeotia,  represents  this  school  or  group.  His  works  consist 
of  a  poem  called  the  Theogonia,  a  history  of  the  origin  of 
the  Gods  and  the  creation  of  the  world ;  the  Works  and  Days, 
a  didactic  poem  on  the  duties  and  occupations  of  life ;  and  a 
Calendar  of  lucky  and  unlucky  days,  for  the  use  of  farmers  and 
sailors.  Aside  from  their  intrinsic  merit  as  poetical  composi- 
tions, these  poems  are  of  high  value  for  the  light  they  throw 
on  the  mythological  conceptions  of  those  early  times,  and  for 
the  vivid  pictures  presented  by  the  Works  and  Days  of  the 
hardships  and  pleasures  of  daily  life,  the  superstitious  observ 
=mees,  the  homely  wisdom  of  common  experience,  and  the 
oroverbial  philosophy  into  which  that  experience  had  been 
ivrought.  For  the  truthfulness  of  the  delineation  generally 
all  antiquity  vouched ;  and  there  is  in  the  style  of  expression 


HESIOD.  133 

and  tone  of  thought  a  racy  freshness  redolent  of  the  native 
soil.  Another  short  poem,  the  Shield  of  Hercules,  is  in  ex- 
press imitation  of  the  Shield  of  Achilles,  in  the  Iliad,  and  is 
therefore  more  epic  in  spirit  as  well  as  in  form  than  those 
already  mentioned.  The  titles  of  several  other  of  Hesiod's 
poems  have  been  preserved. 

Upon  a  general  survey  of  these  works,  we  must  place  their 
author  high  among  the  poets  of  original  genius,  but  far  below 
Homer,  to  whom  he  himself  appears  to  have  looked  up  as  to 
his  master.  He  was  a  man  of  keen  practical  observation, 
and  had  drawn  from  both  observation  and  experience  large 
stores  of  ethical  and  religious  wisdom.  He  showed  at  times 
great  brilliancy  of  imagination  and  copiousness  and  vigor  of 
expression ;  but  he  had  not  that  instinctive  sense  of  the  beau- 
tiful and  that  natural  perfectness  of  taste  which  rarely  desert- 
ed Homer.  The  Ionian  epic,  again,  is  wholly  objective  ;  the 
poet  or  singer  never  appears  personally,  but  the  subject  is 
all  in  all.  The  Boeotian  epic  is  subjective ;  the  poet's  individ- 
uality is  brought  frequently  and  prominently  forward.  From 
this  peculiarity  we  know  various  special  facts  of  the  life  of 
Hesiod ;  we  know  something  of  his  family  relations  ;  something 
of  his  circumstances  ;  something  of  the  neighborhood  in  which 
he  lived,  and  a  good  deal  of  the  troubles  to  which  his  life  was 
exposed.  Sheep-feeding,  farming,  and  poetry  were  the  three 
Bmployments  in  which  his  days  were  passed.  He  was  a  terri- 
ole  grumbler ;  he  grumbled  at  the  climate  of  Boeotia,  which 
was  intolerable  in  winter  and  not  to  be  endured  in  summer ; 
he  grumbled  at  the  hard  soil,  which  gave  such  scanty  returns 
to  labor;  he  grumbled  at  his  brother  Perses,  with  whom  he 
had  a  lawsuit,  and  the  verdict  went  against  him  ;  he  grumbled 
at  judges  and  jury,  whom  he  accused  of  corrupt  motives  in  help- 
ng  his  brother  chouse  him  out  of  a  part  of  his  inheritance. 
All  parties  in  this  famous  dispute  owe  their  immortality  to  his 
grumbling  hexameters,  which  contain  the  only  report  of  the 
case.  Yet  when  Perses,  like  the  prodigal  son,  had  wasted  his 
ll-gotten  substance  in  riotous  living,  the  grumbling  poet  did 


134  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

what  grumbling  elders  always  do,  helped  him,  not  only  with 
money,  but  with  good  advice. 

Hesiod  was  not  much  of  a  traveller.  The  only  voyage  he 
made  was  across  the  Euripus  to  Chalcis,  —  over  a  stream  about 
as  wide  as  Charles  River  at  Brighton  Bridge.  Of  this  he 
says  (I  use  Elton's  translation)  :  — 

"  Ne'er  o'er  the  sea's  broad  way  my  course  I  bore, 
Save  once  from  Aulis  to  the  Eubcean  shore. 
From  sacred  Greece  a  mighty  army  there 
Lay  bound  for  Troy,  wide-famed  for  women  fair. 
I  passed  to  Chalcis,  where  around  the  grave 
Of  King  Amphidamas,  in  combat  brave, 
His  valiant  sons  had  solemn  games  decreed, 
And  heralds  loud  proclaimed  full  many  a  meed. 
There,  let  me  boast  that,  victor  in  the  lay, 
I  bore  a  tripod  eared,  my  prize,  away. 
This  to  the  maids  of  Helicon  I  vowed, 
Where  first  their  tuneful  inspiration  flowed. 
Thus  far  in  ships  does  my  experience  rise ; 
Yet  bold  I  speak  the  wisdom  of  the  skies ; 
The  inspiring  Muses  to  my  lips  have  given 
The  lore  of  song,  and  strains  that  breathe  of  heaven." 

Women  are  especially  a  favorite  theme  of  complaint  with 
Hesiod.  He  never  spares  their  extravagance,  their  giddiness, 
their  love  of  dress  and  of  gossip.  He  delights  in  the  story  of 
Pandora  and  her  box.  On  this  topic  his  tone  deepens  into  the 
earnestness  of  personal  experience  ;  and  one  cannot  help  think- 
ing, either  that  he  had  been  jilted  by  some  Boeotian  coquette 
or  that  his  life  had  been  made  discordant  by  some  Ascraear. 
termagant.     The  creation  of  Pandora  is  thus  described  :  — 

"  The  Sire  who  rules  the  earth  and  sways  the  pole 
Had  said,  and  laughter  filled  his  secret  soul. 
He  bade  famed  Vulcan  with  the  speed  of  thought 
Mould  plastic  clay,  with  tempering  waters  wrought ; 
Inform  with  voice  of  man  the  murmuring  tongue,— 
The  limbs  with  man's  elastic  vigor  strung,  — 
The  aspect  fair  as  goddesses  above, 
A  virgin's  likeness  with  the  brows  of  love. 
He  bade  Minerva  teach  the  skill  that  sheds 
A  thousand  colors  in  the  eliding  threads : 


HESIOD.  1 86 

Bade  lovely  Venus  breathe  around  her  face 
The  charm  of  air,  the  witchery  of  grace ; 
Bade  Hermes  last  implant  the  craft  refined 
Of  thievish  manners  and  a  shameless  mind." 

They  proceed  with  their  work  :  — 

"  Then  by  the  wise  interpreter  of  heaven 
The  name  Pandora  to  the  maid  was  given ; 
Since  all  in  heaven  conferred  their  gifts  to  charm, 
For  man's  inventive  race,  this  beauteous  harm." 

Notwithstanding  our  poet's  misogamy,  —  such  is  the  power 
of  truth  over  the  most  obdurate  mind,  —  he  relents,  and  gives 
some  very  good  advice  about  the  choice  of  a  wife'.  The  proper 
age  for  a  man  to  be  married  is,  according  to  him,  thirty,  and 
for  the  bride  sixteen.     He  concludes  this  topic  by  saying : 

"  No  better  lot  has  Providence  assigned 
Than  a  fair  woman  with  a  virtuous  mind." 

But,  apparently  remembering  his  inconsistency,  he  adds : 

"  Nor  can  a  worse  befall,  than  when  thus  fate 
Allots  a  worthless,  feast-contriving  mate." 

Some  of  his  didactic  passages  are  worth  repeating. 

"  Now  haste  afield  :  now  bind  thy  sheafy  corn, 
And  earn  thy  food  by  rising  with  the  morn. 
Lo !  the  third  portion  of  thy  labor's  cares 
The  early  morn  anticipating  shares. 
In  early  morn  the  labor  swiftly  wastes ; 
In  early  morn  the  speeded  journey  hastes ; 
The  time  when  many  a  traveller  tracks  the  plain, 
And  the  yoked  oxen  bend  them  to  the  wain." 

Among  the  maxims  of  good  manners,  he  says  you  must  not 
pare  your  nails  at  table,  enouncing  it  with  a  sort  of  Pythago- 
rean and  oracular  solemnity. 

"  When  in  the  fane  the  feast  of  gods  is  laid, 
Ne'er  to  thy  five-branched  hand  apply  the  blade 
Of  sable  iron ;  from  the  fresh  forbear 
The  dry  excrescence  at  the  board  to  pare." 

On  the  somewhat  ancient  subject  of  industry  he  says: 


136  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND  POETRY. 

"  Love  every  seemly  toil,  that  so  the  store 
Of  foodful  seasons  heap  thy  garner's  floor 
From  labor  men  returns  of  wealth  behold  ; 
Flocks  in  their  fields,  and  in  their  coffere  gold. 
From  labor  shalt  thou  with  the  love  be  bleat 
Of  men  and  gods  ;  the  slothful  they  detest. 
Not  toil,  but  sloth,  shall  ignominious  be ; 
Toil,  and  the  slothful  man  shall  envy  thee. 

The  idler  never  shall  his  garners  fill, 

Nor  he  that  still  defers  and  lingers  still. 

Lo  !  diligence  can  prosper  every  toil ; 

The  loiterer  strives  with  loss,  and  execrates  the  soil." 

Of  evil  speaking  he  says : 

"  Lo,  the  best  treasure  is  a  frugal  tongue ; 
The  lips  of  moderate  speech  with  grace  are  hung. 
The  evil  speaker  shall  perpetual  fear 
Return  of  evil  ringing  in  his  ear." 

The  description  of  winter  is  not  inappropriate  to  the  passing 
season. 

"  Beware  the  January  month ;  beware 
Those  hurtful  days,  —  that  keenly  piercing  air 
Which  flays  the  herds,  —  those  frosts  that  bitter  sheathe 
The  nipping  air  and  glaze  the  ground  beneath. 
From  Thracia,  nurse  of  steeds,  comes  rushing  forth, 
O'er  the  broad  sea,  the  whirlwind  of  the  North, 
And  moves  it  with  his  breath ;  then  howl  the  shores 
Of  earth,  and  long  and  loud  the  forest  roars. 
He  lays  the  oak  of  lofty  foliage  low, 
Tears  the  thick  pine-trees  from  the  mountain's  brow, 
And  strews  the  valleys  with  their  overthrow. 
He  stoops  to  earth ;  shrill  swells  the  storm  around. 
And  all  the  vast  wood  rolls  a  deeper  roar  of  sound." 

With  one  passage  more  I  close  my  citations  from  Hesiod. 
It  is  a  part  of  the  battle  between  the  Gods  and  the  Giants, 
which  Milton  imitated  and  improved  in  his  description  of  the 
conflict  with  the  fallen  angels. 

"  And  now  —  the  Titans  in  close  ranks  arrayed  — 
What  hands  and  force  could  do,  each  host  displayed. 
The  illimitable  ocean  roared  around ; 


HESIOD.  137 

EartL  wailed ;  the  shaken  heaven  sent  forth  a  sound 

Of  groans ;  while  huge  Olympus  from  his  base 

Rocked  with  the  onset  of  the  immortal  race. 

E'en  shadowy  hell  perceived  the  horrid  blows, 

Trembling  beneath  the  tumult  as  it  rose ;  — 

Such  rushing  of  quick  feet,  such  clanging  jar 

Of  javelins  hurled  impetuous  from  afar, 

As  soared  the  din  of  conflict  to  the  skies, 

And  hosts  joined  battle  with  astounding  cries. 

And  Jove  incensed  no  longer  brooked  control ; 

He  put  forth  all  his  might,  full  filled  his  soul 

With  valiance,  and  at  once  from  heaven's  bright  i  sad 

And  dark  Olympus'  top  he  thundering  strode ; 

Lightnings  and  bolts  terrific  from  his  hand 

Flew  swift  and  frequent,  wrapping  sea  and  land 

In  sacred  flames  ;  —  all-bounteous  earth,  amazed, 

Howled  burning,  while  her  mighty  forests  blazed. 

Forthwith  began  the  land  and  sea  to  steam ; 

The  fiery  breath  of  ocean's  boiling  stream 

Involved  the  Titans ;  flames  rose  through  the  skies 

To  blast  with  splendor  dire  the  Titans'  eyes ; 

And  when  at  last  the  light  through  chaos  gleamed, 

Such  the  concussion,  such  the  uproar  seemed, 

As  if  the  earth  and  heavens  together  blending  — 

The  one  torn  up,  the  other  down  descending  — 

Had  met ;  whereat,  upsprang  the  winds  of  air, 

And  whirled  the  dust-clouds  'mid  the  lightning's  glare. 

Wind,  thunder,  lightning,  from  the  hand  of  Jove, 

Their  track  of  ruin  through  mid-battle  drove. 

Loud  and  stupendous  thus  the  raging  fight, 

Whilst  warred  the  Titans  with  an  equal  might. 

At  length  the  battle  turns.     Cottus  the  fierce, 

Gyges  and  Briareus,  through  mid-ranks  pierce ; 

From  their  strong  arms  three  hundred  rocks  they  throw, 

And  with  these  monstrous  darts  o'ercloud  the  foe ; 

Then  forced  the  Titans  deep  beneath  the  ground, 

And  with  afflictive  chains  the  rebels  bound. 

Despite  their  pride,  beneath  the  earth  they  lie, 

Far  as  that  earth  is  distant  from  the  sky." 

Numerous  other  poems,  genealogical  or  local  in  their  subjects 
and  character,  fill  up  the  century  after  Hesiod,  but  fall  not 
within  the  range  of  either  the  Homeric  or  the  Hesiodic  school. 


138  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND    POETRY. 

as  they  relate  to  individuals  or  the  legends  of  particular  places. 
They  belong,  however,  to  the  same  great  and  prolific  period 
of  Hellenic  poetry,  the  productions  of  which  may  be  distributed 
under  six  heads :  —  1.  The  earliest  form,  the  religious  poetry, 
of  which  nothing  remains ;  2.  Epic  ballads  before  Homer,  of 
which  we  have  traces  in  Homer,  and  perhaps  a  specimen  in 
the  song  of  Demodocus  at  the  court  of  King  Alcinoiis,  in  the 
Odyssey ;  3.  The  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  which  fortunately  remain ; 
4.  Hymns  and  other  minor  poems,  of  which  a  considerable 
number  remain ;  5.  The  Cyclic  epics,  filling  out  the  circle  in 
which  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  stood,  of  which  the  titles,  some 
passages,  and  some  brief  summaries  are  preserved  ;  6.  The 
Hesiodic  poems,  or  those  of  the  Boeotian  school,  —  didactic, 
mythological,  and  heroic ;  7.  Genealogical,  local,  and  individual 
narratives,  in  the  epic  manner,  of  which  considerable  notices 
remain.  The  period  commences  at  an  indefinite  antiquity,  and 
extends  to  the  middle  of  the  seventh  century  before  Christ. 

In  all  discussions  of  the  poetry  of  the  Greeks  in  the  next 
great  period  (the  lyrical),  the  subject  of  Greek  music  holds 
a  prominent  place.  As  Mr.  Pickwick  said  of  Chinese  meta- 
physics, it  is  a  very  abstruse  subject  to  one  who  is  not  favored 
with  what  is  called  a  musical  ear,  and  equally  so  to  one  who  is. 
It  is  doubted  whether  the  art  of  music  among  the  ancients  was 
founded  on  the  deep  scientific  principles  which  underlie  that 
of  the  last  fifty  years ;  and  yet  its  influence  was  held  to  be  so 
important,  that  philosophers  and  legislators  regarded  it  as  en- 
tering deeply  into  the  structure  of  political  society.  The 
musical  element  of  time  largely  influenced  the  common  pro- 
nunciation of  the  language,  and  poetical  rhythm  was  wholly 
founded  upon  it ;  so  that  between  language  and  music  there 
must  have  been  a  closer  connection  than  can  exist  in  our 
modern  systems.  In  this  combination  of  power,  the  over- 
ruling element  was  the  language  through  which  the  idea  was 
conveyed.  The  separation  of  the  two  was  regarded  as  a  cor- 
ruption of  art,  most  pernicious  to  morals.     And  when,  in  th« 


GREEK   MUSIC.  139 

process  of  lime,  the  instruments  were  multiplied  and  their 
compass  enlarged,  and  the  exact  sense  of  poetic  speech  began 
to  lose  itself  in  floods  of  vague  sentiment,  excited  by  voluptu- 
ous sound,  then  the  conservative  philosophers,  statesmen,  and 
poets  set  themselves  agains^  these  innovations,  and  punished 
with  heavy  penalties  the  innovators  as  the  corrupters  of  youth. 
The  old  airs  of  the  Homeric  rhapsodists,  and  the  tunes  which 
nerved  the  neroes  who  fought  at  Marathon,  were  placed  in 
contrast  with  the  enervating  compositions  of  Phrynnis.  The 
moral  degeneracy  which  marked  the  later  periods  of  Greek 
history  was  traced,  by  philosophers  and  satirists  alike,  to  the 
corruption  which  had  glided  into  the  heart  through  the  melt- 
ing tones  of  a  luxuriant  and  over-refined  music.  Plato  and 
Aristophanes,  agreeing  in  few  other  things,  agree  in  this.  But 
the  new  men  carried  the  day ;  and  in  the  public  delivery  of 
lyric  and  choral  poetry,  all  the  resources  of  the  art,  and  all  the 
varieties  of  instrumental  accompaniment  which  the  inventive 
genius  of  that  age  had  devised,  were  carefully  and  ingeniously 
combined  ;  so  that  the  exhibition  became  quite  a  different  affair 
from  the  simple  arrangement  of  the  old  Homeric  masters  and 
the  earlier  Doric  choruses. 

The  Oriental  nations  have  always  been  deeply  susceptible  to 
musical  influences ;  but  I  suppose  their  music  would  not  now 
be  highly  esteemed  by  the  composers  of  Europe.  The  germs 
of  the  art  came  into  Hellas  with  the  first  settlers,  who  brought 
also  the  simplest  instrument,  —  the  four-stringed  lyre,  the  only 
accompaniment  of  the  epic  song.  Three  strings  were  added 
by  Terpander ;  and  the  lyre  was  finally  enlarged  to  two  or 
even  three  octaves.  This  and  the  flute  were  the  principal  in- 
struments of  the  Greek  orchestra.  Most  of  the  changes  came 
in  from  Asia  Minor  in  the  seventh,  sixth,  and  fifth  centuries 
before  Christ,  and  were  contemporaneous  with  the  changes  in 
the  form  and  spirit  of  Greek  poetry.  The  different  styles  of 
music  were  thought  to  express  the  qualities  of  the  races  which 
respectively  affected  them ;  and  they  were  artfully  and  sys- 
tematically adapted  by  the  poets  to  the  classes  and  kinds  of 
emotion  intended  to  be  expressed  in  their  compositions. 


140  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

One  finds  it  hard  to  understand  the  power  attributed  to  music 
by  the  ancients.  Athenseus  relates  that  Cleinias  the  Pythago- 
rean, when  he  felt  himself  moved  to  anger,  touched  the  cithern, 
and  said,  irpavvofiat,  I  appease  myself.  According  to  Plu- 
tarch, Terpander  was  sent  for  to  quell  a  sedition  by  his  music. 
Solon  roused  the  Athenians  to  renew  the  war  against  the  Me- 
gareans  by  singing  a  few  verses.  Pythagoras  prevented  an  in- 
dignant young  gentleman  inflamed  with  wine  from  setting  fire 
to  the  house  of  his  mistress,  who  had  jilted  him,  by  making 
a  flute-player  perform  a  spondaic  rhythm  in  the  neighborhood. 
The  Dorians  moved  to  battle,  as  Milton  says,  to  the  sound  of 
flutes  and  soft  recorders.  In  the  war  with  the  Messenians, 
Tyrtaeus  restored  the  flagging  fortunes  of  the  Lacedaemonians 
by  playing  a  Phrygian  air.  Music  was  also  used  as  a  medi- 
cine. Asclepiades  cured  deafness  by  the  sound  of  a  trumpet 
Thaletas  cured  the  plague,  and  Xenocrates  restored  maniacs  to 
reason,  by  the  sound  of  instruments.  Theophrastus  asserts  that 
music  is  a  remedy  for  dejection,  mental  disorder,  and  the  gout. 
Galen  proposes  that  the  flute  should  be  played  upon  the  aching 
part.  The  Tyrrhenians,  tender-hearted  souls,  flogged  their 
slaves  to  the  sound  of  the  flute.  Quintilian  says  that  music 
is  the  gift  of  nature,  to  enable  man  the  more  patiently  to  sup- 
port the  ills  of  his  condition.  And  poets,  from  Pindar  down 
to  Shakespeare,  have  denounced  in  unmeasured  terms  the  un- 
fortunates who  are  not  musical. 

"  The  wretches  whom  immortal  Jove 
Deigns  not  to  honor  with  his  love, 
Hear  in  confusion  the  Pierian  strain 
On  earth  or  in  the  mighty  main." 

Shakespeare  —  or  rather  the  lovesick  Lorenzo  sitting  in  the 
moonshine  —  says : 

"  The  man  that  hath  no  music  in  himself, 
Nor  is  not  moved  by  concord  of  sweet  sounds 
Is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils ; 
The  motions  of  his  spirits  are  dull  as  night 
And  his  affections  dark  as  Erebus. 
Let  no  such  man  be  trusted." 


GREEK   MUSIC.  141 

Pretty  words  these  for  a  young  gentleman  who  has  just  robbed 
a  doting  old  father  of  his  daughter  and  his  ducats ! 

The  details  of  Greek  music  are  given  to  some  extent  by  tte 
ancients  themselves.  The  subject  was  very  ably  touched  upon 
by  Aristotle  ;  Aristoxenus,  a  contemporary  of  his,  wrote  a  work 
in  three  books,  called  the  Elements  of  Harmonics ;  Euclid,  the 
mathematician,  treated  the  subject  geometrically  ;  Nicomachus 
wi  Ae  a  Manual  of  Harmony ;  Alypius,  a  later  writer,  a  Musical 
Introduction,  chiefly  occupied  with  a  technical  account  of  the 
modes,  intervals,  and  scales  ;  Gaudentius,  also  a  late  writer, 
wrote  a  Musical  Introduction ;  Baccheius,  an  Introduction  to 
the  Art  of  Music,  a  sort  of  catechism  on  the  subject ;  and  Aris- 
teides  Quintilianus,  three  books  concerning  Music.  Plutarch, 
also,  has  on  the  subject  a  very  interesting,  though  somewhat 
confused  dialogue,  valuable  for  recording  many  curious  histor- 
ical facts.  If  we  do  not  understand  Greek  music,  it  may  be 
our  own  fault;  but  at  all  events,  I  know  from  personal  ex- 
perience —  having  read  the  authors  conscientiously  through  — 
that  it  is  emphatically  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  under  diffi- 
culties. 

It  was  generally  supposed  that  not  a  note  of  the  old  Greek 
music  had  been  preserved,  except  some  faint  reminiscence  of 
it,  perhaps,  in  the  four  styles  of  chant  in  the  Greek  Church, 
unquestionably  handed  down  from  a  high  antiquity.  But  in 
the  sixteenth  century  three  Greek  hymns  were  found  in  an 
old  manuscript,  with  a  musical  notation,  in  the  diatonic  kind 
and  Lydian  mode.  A  fourth  scrap  was  published  in  the  sev- 
enteenth century  by  Father  Kircher,  having  been  found  by 
him  in  a  Sicilian  monastery.  It  contains  the  first  eight  verses 
of  the  first  Pythian  Ode  of  Pindar,  with  the  musical  arrange- 
ment, in  the  Lydian  mode.  It  has  been  reduced  to  the  modern 
notation  by  Burette,  Burney,  Marpurg,  Forkel,  and  lastly  by 
Boeckh,  the  learned  editor  of  Pindar,  and  author  of  an  admi- 
rable and  most  incomprehensible  essay  on  that  poet's  music 
Anxious  to  form  some  idea  of  those  effects  which  had  alarmeJ 
philosophers  and  controlled   the  policy  of  sovereign  states,  I 


142         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

persuaded  a  skilful  hand  to  try  it  on  the  piano.  The  musical 
world  has  gained  little  by  disinterring  from  their  sepulchre 
these  unearthly  notes.  The  result  of  the  experiment  was 
like  that  of  the  classical  banquet  in  Peregrine  Pickle.  The 
listeners  were  all  reminded  of  the  old  hymn,  — 

"  Hark !  from  the  tombs  a  doleful  sound." 

1  have  no  idea  that  it  would  be  fair  to  judge  of  the  music  of 
the  Greeks  by  these  doubtful  fragments.  They  must  have 
attained  a  comparative  excellence  in  the  art,  or  all  the  ancients 
who  have  touched  upon  the  subject  were  under  a  delusion.  It 
is  doubtful  whether  they  possessed  harmony,  in  the  modern 
sense,  though  the  word  constantly  occurs  in  their  treatises. 
Yet  they  played  with  both  hands  on  stringed  instruments  of 
considerable  compass ;  they  united  many  voices  of  different 
qualities,  and  combined  several  kinds  of  instruments ;  but  they 
fell  far  short  of  the  modern  orchestra  in  variety  and  power. 

Intimately  connected  with  the  musical  accompaniment,  in 
the  representation  of  the  lyric  composition  and  the  choral  part 
of  the  drama,  was  the  orchestric,  or  rhythm  and  harmony 
of  motion.  This,  too,  like  the  music  of  the  cithara,  dates 
from  the  earliest  times,  and  is  elaborately  described  by  Ho- 
mer. When  they  appease  the  wrath  of  Apollo,  it  is  done 
with  music,  song,  and  dance.  On  the  shield  of  Achilles,  a 
prominent  group  represents  a  chorus  of  youths  performing  a 
Daedalian  dance.  The  suitors  of  Penelope  soften  the  rigors  of 
delay  with  music  and  the  dance.  Odysseus  is  entertained  at 
the  court  of  Alcinoiis  by  a  beautiful  exhibition  of  dancing. 
Dancing  was  connected  with  religion,  with  festivity,  with  pub- 
lic celebrations  of  every  kind,  all  over  the  ancient  world.  David 
ianced  before  the  ark,  though  his  wife  upbraided  him  for  such 
an  unseemly  exhibition ;  and  Sophocles  danced  round  the  altar, 
in  the  paean  composed  in  honor  of  the  victory  of  Salamis. 
This  art,  cultivated  by  all  nations,  was  most  cultivated  bv 
the  Greeks.  It  was  carefully  adapted  to  express  the  varying 
amotions  of  the  mind,  by  the  application  of  well-defined  prin 


GREEK   MUSIC.  143 

ciples  of  art.  To  famous  dancers  golden  crowns  were  decreed, 
and  to  some  even  statues  were  raised.  Lyric  poetry  had  all 
these  accompaniments,  and  was  set  off  by  all  these  ornaments. 
It  was  written  to  be  represented  in  this  threefold  manner.  The 
poetry,  however,  always  held  the  first  place,  and  possessed  the 
highest  dignity.  The  others  were  ancillary  arts,  never  wholly 
emancipated  from  the  supremacy  of  the  elder  and  more  illustri- 
ous child  of  the  imagination.  The  poetry  of  the  ancients  we 
still  feel  as  a  living  presence ;  but  their  music  and  dancing 
have  passed  away,  with  the  vibrations  which  their  momentary 
existence  impressed  upon  the  air. 

There  were  certain  general  ideas  which  the  ancient  teach- 
ers and  philosophers  included  in  their  conception  of  music, 
giving  it  an  extension  quite  beyond  the  modern  meaning 
of  the  term.  They  considered  man  as  placed  in  the  centre 
of  an  harmonious  universe.  As  he  looked  upon  the  objects 
of  nature,  their  colors  not  only  pleased  him  by  their  variety, 
but  combined  in  an  harmonious  effect  upon  his  organs  of 
vision.  The  sounds  of  nature,  the  song  of  birds,  the  voices 
of  the  winds  and  the  waves,  filled  his  ear  agreeably,  and  im- 
pressed his  mind  with  an  indefinite  sense  of  harmony.  EV>rms 
also  —  the  varying  surface  of  the  earth,  the  outlines  of  the 
hills,  the  myriad  varieties  of  trees,  animals,  and  men,  the  ever 
shifting,  ever  beautiful  clouds,  flitting  across  the  sky  —  stirred 
within  him  a  rhythmical  perception  which  did  not  wholly  dis- 
tinguish itself  from  the  harmony  of  sound.  These  objects,  too, 
are  in  life  and  motion ;  and  this  motion,  indeterminate  as  it  may 
be,  has  a  regularity  and  a  rhythmical  progress ;  while  some  of 
the  objects  of  nature  which  strike  the  senses  the  earliest  and 
the  most  deeply  —  the  stars,  for  instance  —  move  on  in  their 
silent  courses  in  such  solemn  order,  that  the  imagination  of 
man,  in  the  primitive  ages,  conceived  an  unheard  music  of  the 
spheres,  which  the  philosophers  themselves  did  not  refuse  to 
believe  ;  and  the  moral  adaptation  between  man  and  the  world 
constituted  an  ethical  harmony,  never  to  be  lost  sight  of  when 
»ve  endeavor  to  reproduce  to  our  minds  the  thoughts,  feelings, 


144  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

and  speculations  of  the  ancient  world.  On  these  primitive 
harmonies  the  fine  arts  were  built.  Harmony  of  form  ripened 
into  sculpture,  architecture,  and  plastic  art  generally ;  harmony 
of  color,  combined  with  form,  was  embodied  in  painting  and 
the  arts  of  design ;  harmony  of  sound  found  its  artistic  expres- 
sion in  music,  poetical  rhythm,  and  impassioned  expression  in 
oratory ;  harmony  of  motion  was  brought  into  order  and  system 
in  the  rhythmical  and  modulated  movements  of  the  dancer,  and 
in  the  refinements  of  the  orchestric  art. 

But  there  was  a  deeper  harmony  still,  that  blended  all  these 
special  rhythms  into  one,  and  constituted  that  music  which  the 
ancients  conceived  of  as  the  basis  of  civilization  and  the  essence 
of  instruction.  To  them  the  natural  man  was  not  the  savage 
running  naked  in  the  woods,  but  the  man  whose  senses,  imagi- 
nation, and  reason  are  unfolded  to  their  highest  reach ;  whose 
bodily  forces  and  mental  powers  are  in  equipoise,  and  in  full 
and  healthy  action  ;  who  has  the  keenest  eye,  the  surest  hand, 
the  truest  ear,  the  richest  voice,  the  loftiest  and  most  rhyth- 
mical step ;  whose  passions,  though  strong,  are  held  in  check  ; 
whose  moral  nature  runs  into  no  morbid  perversions,  and 
whose  intellectual  being  is  robustly  developed ;  whose  life 
moves  on  in  rhythmical  accord  with  God,  nature,  and  man, 
with  no  discord,  except  to  break  its  monotony,  and  to  be  re- 
solved in  the  harmony  of  its  peaceful  and  painless  close.  This 
is  the  ideal  being,  whose  nature  is  unfolded  without  disease, 
imperfection,  or  sin,  to  perpetual  happiness  and  joy.  This  is 
the  ideal  education,  such  as  the  ancient  teachers  conceived  it. 
This  is  the  ideal  music  into  which  all  the  harmonies  of  the 
world  were  blended.  This  is  the  ideal  man,  the  musical  man 
Df  whose  possibility  the  ancient  philosophers  dreamed. 


LECTURE    IX. 


IONIAN   LYRIC   POETRY. 


The  period  of  Greek  poetry  on  which  we  are  now  entering 
is  a  brilliant  one ;  but  the  numerous  works  which  filled  it 
exist,  with  few  exceptions,  only  in  fragments.  In  time,  it  ex- 
tends from  the  eighth  century  B.  C.  down  to  the  flourishing 
age  of  Athenian  letters.  It  has  usually  been  called  the  lyrical 
period,  —  a  designation  sufficiently  accurate  for  general  use. 

With  the  exception  of  Pindar's  works,  the  poetry  of  the 
Greek  lyrists  is  found  only  in  passages  quoted  by  other  writ- 
ers, —  rhetoricians,  grammarians,  scholiasts,  and  especially  in 
the  work  of  Athenseus,  a  learned  Greek  of  Naucratis  in  Egypt, 
who  lived  in  the  third  century  after  Christ.  As  we  are  in- 
debted to  this  scholar  for  many  curious  particulars  relating 
to  the  ancients,  as  well  as  for  passages  from  about  eight  hun- 
dred authors,  a  brief  notice  of  his  work  will  not  be  out  of  place 
here.  It  is  called  the  Deipnosophistse,  or  Philosophers  at 
Supper,  and  is  cast  in  the  dialogue  form,  which,  as  is  well 
known,  was  a  favorite  species  of  composition  with  the  ancients. 
It  professes  to  be  an  account  of  an  entertainment  given  at  the 
house  of  Laurentius,  a  noble  Roman,  among  whose  guests  are 
Athenaeus,  Galen  the  medical  writer,  and  Ulpian  the  lawyer. 
The  conversations  and  the  plot  in  general  are  managed  with 
none  of  the  dramatic  skill  and  lifelikeness  that  belong  to  Plato's 
works ;  and  to  make  the  whole  scheme  more  clumsy  still  in 
point  of  art,  the  dialogues  purport  tc  have  been  related  to  Timo- 
crates,  a  friend  of  the  author.  It  extends  through  fifteen  books 
—  some  of  them  preserved  only  in  epitomes  —  and  fills  more 
than  a  thousand  octavo  pages ;  yet  it  gives  the  conversations  at 

VOL.    I  10 


146         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

a  single  feast.  The  entertainment  itself  embraces  the  products 
of  every  season,  country,  and  climate ;  and  the  interlocutors 
must  have  thought  of  each  other,  as  Eve  thought  of  Adam,  — 
"  With  thee  conversing,  I  forget  all  time."  The  discussions 
are  as  various  as  the  dishes.  Athenseus  was  at  once  a  scholar 
and  an  epicure.  He  was  familiar  with  the  old  literature  and 
the  recent  science  of  the  Greeks.  He  had  the  works  of  the 
authors  at  his  tongue's  end,  and  knew  the  criticisms  of  the 
Logotheroi  —  the  word-hunters  —  of  the  Alexandrian  schools, 
who,  however  they  quarrelled  with  one  another,  were  on  the 
best  terms  with  a  man  who  kept  so  good  a  table  He  was 
equally  learned  in  all  the  qualities  of  the  juice  of  the  grape  , 
he  knew  the  fish  of  the  sea,  the  birds  of  the  air,  the  game  of 
the  woodland,  fen,  and  mountain,  and  the  denizens  of  the  farm- 
yard, in  their  zoological  and  gastronomical  relations.  His  book, 
therefore,  is  a  vast  assemblage  of  racy  anecdotes,  and  quota- 
tions from  poets,  historians,  philosophers,  physicians,  —  upon 
the  fine  arts  and  the  art  of  cookery,  —  upon  poetry  and  natu- 
ral history,  —  upon  fish,  crabs,  oysters,  comedy,  and  tragedy. 
In  one  department  alone,  that  of  the  middle  comedy,  he  had 
nade  extracts  from  eight  hundred  plays ;  and  as  he  wrote  at  a 
time  when  ancient  literature  had  as  yet  sustained  no  heavy 
losses,  his  book  contains  fragments  of  many  authors  whose 
works  but  for  him  would  have  utterly  perished.  It  is  to  him 
that  we  are  indebted  for  the  anecdotes  of  the  illustrious  glutton 
Apicius,  who  embarked  for  Africa  in  search  of  lobsters,  but, 
having  ascertained,  as  he  drew  near  the  coast,  that  African 
lobsters  were  no  larger  than  those  he  had  eaten  in  Italy,  re- 
turned without  landing. 

As  the  three  great  leading  nationalities  came  separately  for 
ward  in  the  lyrical  period,  and  stamped  themselves  upon  their 
poetical  works,  it  seems  natural  to  divide  these  works  accord- 
ing to  the  national  characteristics,  and  to  the  dialects  which 
now  asserted  severally  an  independent  existence  and  a  classical 
••ank.  These  subdivisions  then  will  be:  1.  The  Ionian  poetry, 
2.  The  ^Eolian  poetry ;  3.  The  Dorian  poetry.    A  correspond 


IONIAN   LYRIC   POETRY.  147 

ing  subdivision  of  styles  should  also  be  made.  The  character- 
istic form  of  the  Ionian  of  this  period  is  the  elegiac  distich,  or 
alternate  hexameter  and  pentameter,  —  differing  from  the  epic 
versification  by  taking  one  foot  from  every  alternate  line.  The 
characteristic  form  of  the  ^Eolian  poetry  is  the  strophic  com- 
position, that  is,  the  combination  of  several  different  verses, 
and  their  regular  recurrence  in  the  same  order,  so  that  the 
antistrophe  always  corresponds  with  the  strophe.  The  char- 
acteristic form  of  the  Doric  poetry  is  the  choral  composition,  in 
which  to  the  strophe  and  antistrophe  of  the  jEolians  a  third 
part,  called  the  epode,  was  added,  closing  the  measure.  The 
elegiac  composition  admitted  no  further  variety  of  form  than 
the  alternating  hexameter  and  pentameter.  The  other  two 
kinds  were  susceptible,  within  the  form  of  art  assigned  to  them, 
of  a  great  variety.  The  Doric,  with  its  three  rhythmical  ele- 
ments, and  its  four  or  five  musical  modes,  gave  scope  for  the 
greatest  variety  of  all,  in  the  permutations  and  combinations  by 
which  these  elements  and  modes  could  be  interlaced.  The 
elegiac  form  is  the  oldest ;  the  Ionian  poets  who  employed  it 
coming  directly  after  the  epic  age,  and  being  closely  connected 
in  language  and  style  with  the  poetry  of  that  age.  The  JElo- 
lian  has  a  less  direct  relation  to  the  parent  stem,  and  is  wholly 
independent  of  it  in  dialect  and  in  rhythmical  form.  The 
Dorian  begins  at  a  considerably  later  period,  and  is  even  more 
jroadly  marked  as  to  structure  and  language,  —  as  to  rhyth- 
mical form  and  dialectic  peculiarity.  But  all  three  —  speaking 
in  general  terms  —  may  be  regarded  as  contemporaneous  for  a 
considerable  part  of  their  literary  existence.  The  Doric,  how- 
ever, outlived  the  JEolian,  passed  into  the  age  of  Athenian  lit- 
erature, and  came  to  be  considered  in  a  special  manner  as  the 
'anguage  and  the  form  of  lyric  poetry,  consecrated  peculiarly 
o  that  department  of  the  art. 

In  the  heroic  times,  a  system  of  monarchy  or  hereditary 
"lie,  embracing  within  itself  the  germs  out  of  which  sprang  the 
complex  variety  of  later  constitutions,  had  been  established ;  the 
orders  of  society  being  kings,  nobles,  freemen,  and  slaves.    The 


L46         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

first  two  orders  in  the  state  underwent  many  changes,  and  in 
the  historical  democracies  were  finally  abolished ;  the  last  two 
remained  undisturbed.  The  long  absence  of  so  many  chief- 
tains in  the  Trojan  war,  and  the  extensive  migrations  which 
took  place  in  the  two  following  centuries,  tended  to  overthrow 
the  anciently  universal  system,  although  the  traditions  of  the 
old  heroic  authorities  were  carried  across  the  iEgean,  and  the 
political  forms  were  renewed  with  diminished  strength  in  the 
islands  and  on  the  Asiatic  shore.  Aristocracies,  oligarchies,  and 
tyrannies  ensued  ;  the  heads  of  these  shifting  polities  being 
generally  self-made  men,  or  descendants  of  the  old  houses  who 
had  gone  over  to  the  popular  party.  The  history  of  this  period 
is  obscure  in  its  details,  for  want  of  documents.  But  through 
the  general  darkness  we  discern  some  brilliant  points,  whence 
light  is  thrown  abroad ;  here  and  there  a  splendid  capital  and 
court ;  centres  of  literature  and  art ;  places  illumined  by  re- 
nowned names  of  poets  and  their  patrons,  as  Samos  by  that  of 
Polycrates,  Corinth  by  that  of  Periander,  Mitylene  by  that  of 
Pittacus,  Athens  by  that  of  Peisistratus.  Commercial  wealth 
had  brought  in  all  the  ministers  of  luxury,  and  furnished 
the  usurpers  with  the  revenues  that  enabled  them  to  sup- 
port the  troops  of  poets  of  which  their  retinues  and  private 
circles  consisted.  It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  the  Ho- 
meric style  of  dealing  with  poetical  subjects  became  a  little 
old-fashioned  ;  that  literature  and  language  underwent  numer- 
ous and  important  changes,  branching  out  into  novel  forms, 
modes,  and  tastes,  revelling,  as  it  were,  in  a  lavish  luxuriance 
of  manifold  expression.  These  political  changes  tended  on  the 
one  hand  to  democracy,  and  on  the  other  to  aristocracy  and 
monarchy,  as  individual  freedom  or  despotic  will  became  the 
prevailing  element.  The  former  ended  in  the  legislation  of 
Solon  and  the  democratic  constitution  of  Athens ;  the  latter,  in 
the  iron  legislation  of  Lycurgus  and  the  double-headed  royaltv 
of  Sparta.  The  Ionian  race  cherished  a  political  freedom, 
extending  to  the  liberty  of  the  individual  citizen.  The  Dori- 
ans contemplated  freedom  in  relation  to  the  body  politic,  buf 


IONIAN    LYEIC   POETRY.  149 

wholly  sacrificed  the  individual  to  the  general  good.  The  Mo- 
lians,  politically  speaking,  were  absorbed  by  the  other  two. 
These  diverging  tendencies  were  not  strong  enough  to  destroy 
the  consciousness  of  a  common  bond  in  the  Hellenic  spirit, 
and  a  sense  of  difference  which  broadly  separated  all  from  the 
outside  barbarian  world.  With  the  increasing  development  of 
these  nationalities,  the  feeling  of  Hellenism,  of  an  affinity  which 
united  them  all  together,  became  deeper  and  more  intense.  A 
general  idea  of  the  geographical  relations  of  these  races  or 
nationalities,  on  the  Grecian  mainland  and  the  Asiatic  shore, 
has  been  already  given.  Their  colonies,  however,  extended 
along  the  shores  of  the  Propontis,  the  Euxine,  Thrace,  and 
Macedonia ;  and  passed  over  to  Lower  Italy,  Sicily,  Sardinia, 
and  the  coasts  of  Africa,  Spain,  and  Gaul.  But  however  im- 
portant this  colonial  extension  was  in  a  political  point  of  view, 
it  had  little  bearing  on  poetical  literature.  I  mention  it  now, 
only  to  show  in  a  word  the  great  sweep  which  the  Greek  lan- 
guage and  culture  were  taking  over  the  world,  preparing  for 
that  universal  empire  over  literature  which  Athenian  genius 
finally  asserted. 

Another  general  remark  should  be  made  here.  Each  dialect 
was  consecrated  to  a  special  kind  of  poetical  composition.  The 
old  Ionic  was  the  language  of  the  epic ;  the  later,  of  the  ele- 
giac ;  the  jEolic,  first  cultivated  for  a  particular  species  of 
lyric  poetry,  namely,  the  strophic,  continued  the  special  lan- 
guage of  that  species ;  the  Doric,  first  refined  for  literary  pur- 
poses in  choral  composition,  remained  ever  after  the  language 
of  that  poetical  style ;  and  neither  the  Doric  nor  the  ^Eolic  was 
ever  used  for  epic  composition,,  though  poets  of  all  three  races 
wrote  in  all  the  poetical  forms.  Thus  the  poetical  literature 
actually  existing  in  these  three  dialects  is  not  in  all  cases  the 
work  of  the  nations  speaking  them. 

These  three  types,  while  agreeing  in  those  qualities  that 
made  them  all  Hellenic,  had  each  its  own  moral  and  intellect- 
ual physiognomy.  The  causes  of  these  varieties  —  analogous 
to  what  we  see  around  us  every  day  and  everywhere  —  lie 


150         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

beyond  the  limits  of  our  investigation ;  the  facts  and  results 
are  all  that  we  can  pretend  to  fathom.  Ionian  life,  under  the 
lovely  skies  of  Western  Asia  and  on  the  isles  that  crown  the 
jEgean  deep,  has  already  been  in  part  described.  The  senses 
of  the  Ionian  were  keen,  and  his  sensibility  to  beauty,  whether 
of  nature  or  of  the  human  form,  was  ever  vivid.  His  clear 
and  sunny  spirit  was  kindled  by  an  insatiable  curiosity,  which 
made  him,  on  the  one  hand,  a  patient  listener  to  the  long-drawn 
6tories  of  the  epic  singers,  and,  on  the  other,  an  acute  observer 
of  the  phenomena  of  nature  which  were  witnessed  around  him 
in  their  fullest  beauty  and  splendor.  His  external  prosperity 
—  until  it  was  overshadowed  by  the  Lydians  and  Persians  — 
and  the  freedom  he  enjoyed  in  his  political  relations  gave  full 
scope  to  the  natural  and  national  expression  of  his  heart  and 
his  passions.  In  the  later  period  of  decline,  the  joyousness  of 
the  Ionian  was  tempered  by  the  pale  cast  of  introspective  med- 
itation. He  became  a  sorrowful  egotist  and  a  sentimental  vo- 
luptuary. He  was  a  good  observer  of  the  actions  of  men,  and 
readily  fathomed  their  motives.  The  expression  of  the  indi- 
vidual sentiment,  therefore,  and  of  ethical  or  political  wisdom, 
or  of  plaintive  woes,  and  despair  most  musical,  most  melan- 
choly, took  the  place,  in  Ionia,  of  that  unconscious  reflection  of 
the  world  of  nature  and  the  world  of  man  which  so  marked 
the  elder  epic.  To  adopt  the  German  phrase,  the  Ionian 
passed  from  the  objective  to  the  subjective. 

The  original  Ionian  of  Attica  —  removed  at  first  from  the 
blandishments  of  Asia,  and  afterwards  from  the  crushing 
weight  of  Asiatic  despotism,  living  on  a  soil  which  required 
labor  to  till  it,  and  made  commerce  needful  to  supply  the  defi- 
ciency of  its  scanty  productiveness — laid  the  foundation  of  his 
culture  in  deeper  qualities,  built  up  a  prosperity  of  a  slower 
growth,  but  on  a  more  solid  basis,  and  grew  into  a  hardier  and 
stronger  style  of  man  than  the  Ionian  of  Asia.  The  Athenian 
character  resembled  that  of  the  Ionian  of  Asia  in  its  general 
outlines,  especially  in  taste  for  beauty  and  genius  for  art ;  but 

added  the  element  of  stability,  gathered  from  longer  and 


IONIAN   LYRIC   POETRY.  151 

Harder  struggles  with  a  less  bountiful  Nature.  The  poetry  of 
the  Ionian  belongs  partly  to  Asia,  and  partly  to  the  mainland ; 
and  while  it  is  all  Ionian,  it  has  shades  of  variety  in  tone, 
spirit,  and  style,  borrowed  from  the  influences  of  nature  and 
of  political  condition.  The  earliest  rhythm,  I  have  said,  was  the 
elegiac  ;  but  the  trochaic,  iambic,  and  anapaestic  were  changes 
which  the  Ionian  rhythmical  systems  underwent  in  rapid  suc- 
cession, and  all  these  were  used  by  most  of  the  Ionian  writei  s 
on  either  side  the  ^Egean  Sea. 

I  will  name  one  or  two  of  these  poets,  quoting  a  few  speci- 
mens of  the  fragments  which  remain.  The  first  is  Callinus  the 
Ephesian,  who  belongs  to  the  latter  part  of  the  eighth  century 
before  Christ.  The  invention  of  the  elegiac  distich  is  attrib- 
uted to  him.  An  invasion  of  Asia  Minor,  and  the  destruction 
of  several  of  the  most  flourishing  Ionian  cities,  are  the  events 
alluded  to  in  the  few  passages  —  four  fragments  in  all — which 
we  have.  The  longest  is  part  of  a  fine  war-elegy,  much  in  the 
Btyle  of  Tyrtaeus.     I  read  the  translation  by  H.  N.  Coleridge 

"  How  long  will  ye  slumber  ?  when  will  ye  take  heart 
And  fear  the  reproach  of  your  neighbors  at  hand  ? 
Fie  !  comrades,  to  think  ye  have  peace  for  your  part, 
Whilst  the  sword  and  the  arrow  are  wasting  our  land  ! 
Shame !  grasp  the  shield  close !  cover  well  the  bold  breast ! 
Aloft  raise  the  spear  as  ye  march  on  the  foe ! 
With  no  thought  of  retreat,  with  no  terror  confessed, 
Hurl  your  last  dart  in  dying,  or  strike  your  last  blow. 
O,  't  is  noble  and  glorious  to  fight  for  our  all,  — 
For  our  country,  onr  children,  the  wife  of  our  love  ! 
Death  comes  not  the  sooner ;  no  soldier  shall  fall, 
Ere  his  thread  is  spun  out  by  the  sisters  above. 
Once  to  die  is  man's  doom  ;  rush,  rush  to  the  fight ! 
He  cannot  escape,  though  his  blood  were  Jove's  owu. 
For  a  while  let  him  cheat  the  shrill  arrow  by  flight ; 
Fate  will  catch  him  at  last  in  his  chamber  alone. 
Unlamented  he  dies ;  —  unregretted.     Not  so, 
When,  the  tower  of  his  couatry,  in  death  falls  the  brave ; 
Thrice  hallowed  his  name  amongst  all,  high  or  low, 
As  with  blessings  alive,  so  with  tears  in  the  grave." 


152  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

Archilochus,  the  Parian,  stands  next  in  point  of  time,  his  life 
extending  from  728  B.  C.  to  660,  —  sixty-eight  years.  Next 
to  Homer,  he  was  the  most  celebrated  poet  of  the  early  Greeks. 
A  Delphic  oracle  foretold  to  his  father  his  future  fame  in  song. 
An  epigram,  still  extant,  says  it  was  fortunate  for  Homer  that 
Archilochus  gave  his  genius  to  the  inferior  kinds  of  poetry. 
Longinus  speaks  of  his  divine  inspiration.  But  his  malice  and 
evil  temper  were  as  famous  as  his  poetical  gifts ;  and  the  cir- 
cumstances and  mishaps  of  his  life  gave  unusual  scope  to  these 
unamiable  qualities.  He  has  the  bad  eminence  of  having  been 
the  first  to  degrade  literary  talent  to  the  slander  of  private 
character.  Though  belonging  on  his  father's  side  to  one  of  the 
noblest  families  of  Paros,  his  mother,  Enipo,  was  a  slave.  Early 
in  his  life  a  fair  daughter  of  Lycambes,  a  Parian  citizen,  named 
Neobule,  had  captivated  the  fiery  heart  of  the  poet.  She  was 
promised  to  him  in  marriage,  but  for  some  unexplained  reason 
the  promise  was  not  kept.  When  he  found  himself  in  the  un- 
pleasant situation  of  a  rejected  lover,  instead  of  making  the 
best  of  it,  and  affecting  to  congratulate  himself  on  his  fortunate 
escape,  as  a  sensible  man  would  have  done,  he  fell  into  a  hor- 
rible passion,  and  attacked  the  whole  family  in  a  series  of 
iambic  and  epodic  invectives,  —  some  of  which  were  publicly 
recited  at  the  festivals,  —  charging  father  and  daughters  with 
every  conceivable  vice  and  crime,  and  keeping  up  the  accu- 
sations with  dogged  and  diabolical  pertinacity. 

In  one  of  his  fragments  he  says  :  — 

"  One  great  thing  I  know,  — 
The  man  who  wrongs  me  to  requite  with  woe." 

He  kept  his  word.  Under  this  extraordinary  and  till  then 
unheard-of  style  of  persecution,  Lycambes  and  his  daughters, 
finding  life  a  burden  too  heavy  to  be  borne,  made  a  family 
party  and  hanged  themselves ;  the  lady  of  his  love  choosing 
the  alternative  of  a  noose  without  him  rather  than  with  him. 
If  her  choice  lay  between  these  extremes,  she  chose  wisely ; 
but  it  seems  an  extraordinary  compliment  to  pay  to  the  power 
ot  a  venomous  pen.     In  that  age,  however,  literary  invective 


IONIAN   LYRIC   POETRY.  153 

against  private  character  was  a  novelty ;  and  when  the  shafts 
were  winged  by  poetic  fancy,  they  seemed  as  terrible  and  in- 
evitable as  the  fatal  arrows  of  the  silver-bowed  Apollo. 

His  native  island  shared  in  his  invectives,  whether  because 
Neobule  had  lived  there,  or  because  he  was  not  held  in  the 
estimation  he  thought  he  deserved,  —  a  very  common  source 
of  hatred  in  such  minds.  *"  Away,"  he  says,  "  with  Paros, 
her  figs  and  fishy  life."  From  Paros  he  went  to  Thasos,  and, 
taking  part  in  a  battle  there  against  the  invading  Thracians, 
he  incurred  the  disgrace  of  losing  his  shield.  Instead  of  hush- 
ing the  matter  up,  he  must  needs  proclaim  it  to  the  world  in  a 
poem,  imitated  afterwards  by  Horace,  to  whom  the  same  acci 
dent  happened  at  Philippi :  — 

"  Some  Saian  triumphs  that  he  has  the  shield 
I  dropped  while  running  from  the  battle-field,  — 
Unwilling  dropped ;  but  let  the  bull-hide  go,  — 
Another  shield  will  do  as  well,  I  trow." 

But,  after  all,  he  did  not  feel  quite  right  towards  an  island  that 
had  witnessed  his  disgrace,  and  he  thus  avenged  himself:  — 

"  Like  the  sharp  backbone  of  an  ass  it  stood, 
That  rugged  isle,  o'ergrown  with  shaggy  wood; 
No  leafy  grove,  no  lawn  for  poet's  dream 
Is  there  like  those  by  Siris'  pleasant  stream." 

When  he  visited  Sparta,  the  authorities,  taking  a  different  view 
of  shield-dropping,  —  as  was  shown  by  the  Spartan  mother, 
who  said  to  her  son  as  she  handed  him  his  shield,  "Either  with 
this  or  on  it,"  —  ordered  him  to  leave  the  city  in  an  hour.  He 
was  a  restless  vagabond,  wandering  about  wherever  Greeks 
were  to  be  found,  and  making  himself  and  others  unhappy 
everywhere.  Finally  he  returned  to  his  native  island,  and  was 
killed  in  an  affray  with  the  neighboring  Naxians.  His  poetical 
genius  was  remarkable  for  richness,  strength,  and  versatility. 
His  style  reached  the  highest  degree  of  force  and  elegance. 
As  an  iambic  writer,  he  held  undisputed  the  foremost  rank. 
The  severity  and  caustic  satire  which  filled  his  works  with 
their  poison  are  justified  by  Dion  Chrysostomus,  who  says  that 


154  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

they  were  intended  to  make  men  better,  and  were  more  effec- 
tive in  accomplishing  this  purpose  than  the  eulogistic  spirit 
that  warms  the  poetry  of  Homer. 

As  an  artist  he  was  one  of  the  most  distinguished  intellects 
of  that  great  age.  His  inventive  power  was  shown,  not  only 
in  the  splendor  of  his  imagination,  but  in  the  many  exquisite 
rhythmical  forms  with  which  he  enriched  the  language.  The 
ancient  critics  arranged  his  writings  under  seven  classes.  About 
two  hundred  fragments  of  them  are  found  scattered  through 
more  than  a  hundred  authors,  some  of  a  few  words  only,  and 
the  longest  of  only  a  few  verses.  The  following  seven  trochaic 
verses,  in  which  the  poet  addresses  his  own  soul,  and  braces 
himself  to  bear  the  ills  of  life,  show  his  better  side  :  — 

"  Soul,  my  soul,  with  helpless  sorrows  overladen  and  distraught, 
Bear  thee  firm,  to  hostile  hosts  a  manly  heart  opposing ; 
When  the  foeman's  shafts  fall  thickest,  motionless  thy  post  maintain ; 
If  victorious,  yield  thee  not  to  open  triumph  overmuch ; 
Nor,  if  conquered,  cast  thee  down,  at  home  thy  doleful  lot  bewailing ; 
But  in  pleasures  take  thy  pleasance,  and  in  evils  bear  thy  sorrow, 
Nor  too  much,  but  understand  the  rhythm  that  governs  mortal  men." 

The  following  trochaics,  apart  from  their  poetry,  have  an  in- 
terest, as  showing  the  effects  of  an  eclipse,  a  then  unexplained 
phenomenon,  on  the  imagination  of  the  poet :  — 
"  Naught  can  now  be  unexpected,  nothing  with  an  oath  denied, 
Nothing  fill  our  hearts  with  wonder,  since  the  Olympian  father  Zeus 
Night  hath  hung  for  noonday  brightness,  hiding  all  the  glorious  light 
Of  the  blazing  sun  in  heaven,  and  on  man  hath  terror  fallen  ; 
All  things  henceforth  credence  find,  wonders  all  surprise  no  more. 
Nor  let  any  mortal,  seeing,  marvel  at  the  unwonted  sight, 
Though  the  wild  beasts  with  the  dolphins  their  sea-pastures  interchange ; 
And  to  them  who  loved  the  mountain  and  the  woodland  wilds  to  haunt, 
DeareT  have  the  sounding  billows  of  the  surging  sea  become." 

Three  verses  have  been  preserved  from  the  description  of  a 
storm,  said  to  be  part  of  a  poem  on  that  Thracian  war  in  which 
the  poet  lost  his  shield  :  — 

"  Glaucus,  look  !  the  deep  sea  heaves  already  with  its  yeasty  waves, 
And,  around  the  headlands  bending,  stands  the  pile  of  thunder-clouds,  — 
Sign  of  storm,  —  and  sudden  terror  overspreads  the  land  and  sea." 


IONIAN   LYRIC  POETRY.  155 

Liike  all  the  poets  of  his  time,  —  indeed,  like  all  Greek  poets 
of  all  times,  —  Archilochus  had  steeped  his  mind  in  the  poetry 
of  Homer,  whose  thoughts  and  turns  of  expression  here  and 
there  shine  out  in  the  texture  of  the  Parian  poet's  composition, 
but  not  in  such  a  way  as  to  impair  the  vivid  effect  of  his  origi- 
nality. For  there  is  little  resemblance  between  the  wise  equa- 
bility of  the  spirit  of  Homer,  whose  mighty  heart  lovingly 
embraced  every  form  of  life  and  every  joy  and  sorrow  of  man, 
and  the  imperious  will,  the  violent  inconsistency,  the  gusts  of 
passion  shifting  from  fierce  love  to  fiercer  hate,  and  driving 
the  objects  of  both  to  despair  and  self-murder;  between  the 
pervading  cheerfulness  that  gladdens  earth,  sea,  and  sky  in  the 
Homeric  world,  and  the  moody  gloom  that  avenges  wounded 
pride  and  thwarted  will,  by  loading  the  fair  islands  of  Greece, 
the  witnesses  of  the  poet's  fancied  wrong  and  real  shame,  with 
bitter  taunts  and  contemptuous  epithets ;  between  the  calm 
sense  of  enjoyment,  the  judicious  but  hearty  moderation,  which 
Homer  everywhere  sets  forth,  and  the  desperate  rush  to  the 
drunkard's  bowl,  draining  it  to  the  bottom,  the  frantic  plunge 
into  the  abyss  of  sensuality,  the  self-inflicted  tortures,  which 
wasted  so  much  of  the  life  of  Archilochus.  Yet  sometimes  the 
unrest  of  his  spirit  was  calmed  by  the  bland  influences  of  the 
enchanting  nature  around  him.  The  sudden  contrasts  and 
shifting  pictures  of  that  half-oriental  sea  and  earth  and  sky 
drove  out  the  evil  demons  that  haunted  his  spirit,  and  furnished 
it  with  the  superb  imagery  in  which  his  better  moods  are 
clothed.  The  unalterable  march  of  destiny  in  the  affairs  of 
the  world  sometimes  overcame  him  with  a  sacred  awe ;  and  his 
verse,  seized  with  befitting  earnestness,  rises  to  a  dignity  worthy 
of  the  stately  theme.  This  is  the  aspect  of  his  poetical  char- 
acter which  has  an  interest  for  us. 

Another  noted  poet  of  Ionia  was  Mimnermus  the  Colopho- 
nian.  He  flourished  later  than  Archilochus,  being  a  con- 
temporary of  Solon  the  Lawgiver,  who,  in  one  of  his  extant 
fragments,  addresses  him  by  name.  Little  is  known  of  his 
personal  history,  except  that  he  had,  or  professed  to  have,  a 


156  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

passion  for  a  flute-player  named  Nanno,  to  whom  some  of  his 
poems  were  addressed.  In  the  hands  of  Mimnermus  the  elegy 
became  less  warlike,  and  more  exclusively  the  expression  of 
sorrow  and  lamentation.  The  gloomy  circumstances  of  Ionia 
at  this  time,  and  gloomier  forebodings  for  the  future,  had  their 
share  in  producing  this  result,  by  acting  on  the  nervous  tem- 
perament of  the  poet.  It  often  happens  that  public  calamity 
overwhelms  private  virtue,  by  breaking  the  bonds  that  hold 
society  together.  In  war  and  pestilence,  while  death  is  stalk- 
ing through  the  land,  men  strive  to  drown  the  sense  of  over- 
hanging doom  by  snatching  a  fearful  joy  from  reckless  volup- 
tuousness, while  there  is  yet  left  a  breath  of  life.  It  is  only 
after  the  storm  is  past,  and  men,  returning  to  their  senses, 
reflect  on  the  moral  of  the  disaster,  and  seek  to  repair  the  ruin, 
that  the  law  of  God  reasserts  its  supremacy.  In  the  mean  time, 
literature  breathes  the  spirit  of  sensuality,  unsatisfied  desire, 
impatience  of  the  present,  and  weariness  of  life  under  its  accu- 
mulating load  of  evils.  It  was  under  just  these  circumstances 
that  Mimnermus  appeared  in  Ionia.  He  was  extremely  sus- 
ceptible to  outward  influences, — plunging  into  the  gayety  of 
the  hour,  but  with  a  constant  feeling  of  its  vanity, — drinking 
deeply  of  the  cup  of  pleasure,  but  knowing  well  the  disappoint- 
ment and  dreariness  that  were  sure  to  follow.  His  constant 
topics  were  the  helplessness  of  man,  the  uncertainty  of  his  hap- 
piness, and  the  wretchedness  of  old  age.  For  all  these,  love  and 
wine  are  the  only  solace  ;  and. when  the  time  for  these  is  gone, 
life  is  no  longer  worth  the  keeping.  The  contrast  between  him 
and  Solon  is  well  drawn  in  this  fragment  of  a  dialogue  :  — 

Mimnermus. 
"  O  that  my  days,  free  from  disease  or  woe, 
On  placid  waters  down  life's  stream  may  flow ; 
And  when  their  course  shall  reach  its  sixtieth  year, 
Death's  friendly  sleep  may  close  my  sojourn  here." 

Solon. 
"  Bear  with  me,  gentle  Colophonian  friend, 
If  I  one  sentence  of  thy  wish  would  mend  ; 
The  life  oi  man,  on  terms  like  these  begun, 
Its  prosperous  course  full  eighty  years  may  run." 


IONIAN   LYRIC   POETRY.  157 

The  following  specimen  will  give  some  idea  of  the  poetical 
character  of  Mimnermus  :  — 

"  We  are  like  leaves  that  are  thickly  put  forth  in  flowery  spring-tide, 

When  in  the  beams  of  the  sun  gorgeously  grow  they  anew  ; 
Like  to  these  for  a  span,  with  blossoms  of  earliest  manhood, 

Take  we  our  pleasure  and  joy,  taught  by  the  gods  neither  ill, 
Neither  good,  while  close  by  our  side  the  black  fates  are  standing ; 

One  is  holding  the  end,  gloomy  and  sorrowful  age; 
Death's  term  holdeth  the  other ;  the  fruit  of  our  youth  swift  decayeth. 

Swift  as  over  the  earth  speedeth  the  light  of  the  sun. 
When  already  is  past  and  gone  the  sweet  prime  of  our  being, 

Then,  0,  then  is  to  die  better  than  longer  to  live ! 
For  to  the  heart  many  agonies  come ;  at  one  time  possession 

Vanishes  wasted  away  ;  sorrows  of  want  take  its  place. 
One  is  unblest  with  offspring,  the  chiefest  desire  of  his  bosom, 

And  to  the  regions  below,  childless  to  Hades  descends; 
Life-wearing  sickness  another  endures,  nor  is  there  a  mortal 

Unto  whom  Zeus  giveth  not  manifold  evils  to  bear." 

This  specimen  may  represent  the  poet's  general  turn  of 
thought,  but  not  that  grace  and  elegance  of  style  which  wer*» 
celebrated  among  the  ancients. 

Simonides  of  Ceos  belongs  both  to  the  Doric  and  to  the  Ionic 
poets.  His  name  fills  a  large  space  in  the  literary  annals  of  this 
age.  He  was  born  about  the  middle  of  the  sixth  century  B.C., 
and  his  literary  labors  embrace  every  species  of  composition 
known  in  his  time.  Early  in  life  he  was  -a  favored  guest  in  the 
brilliant  circles  of  Peisistratus  and  Hipparchus  at  Athens ;  later 
he  went  to  Thrace,  and  was  welcomed  there  by  the  princely  fam- 
ilies of  the  Aleuadse  and  Scopadse.  He  returned  to  Athens 
about  the  time  of  the  Persian  invasion,  where  he  was  employed 
in  celebrating  the  victories  of  the  Greeks  over  the  Barbarians. 
He  was  the  successful  rival  of  ^Eschylus  for  the  prize  in  an 
alegy  on  those  who  fell  at  Marathon,  a  few  lines  of  which  are 
quoted  by  Lycurgus  the  orator  in  the  trial  of  Leosthenes.  But 
the  most  famous  of  his  minor  compositions  is  the  inscription 
on  the  tomb  of  the  tnree  hundred  who  fell  at  Thermopylae,  con- 
sisting of  two  verses,  of  which  Professor  Wilson  says :  "  All 


158         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

Greece,  for  centuries,  had  them  by  heart.  She  forgot  them, 
and  Greece  was  living  Greece  no  more." 

"  Stranger,  the  tidings  to  the  Spartans  tell, 
That  here,  obeying  their  commands,  we  fell." 

Afterwards  he  went  to  the  court  of  Hiero,  the  tyrant  of  Syra- 
cuse, by  whom  he  was  held  in  the  highest  honor.  He  became 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  of  a  poetical  society  which  num- 
bered among  its  members  Pindar,  Bacchylides,  and  iEschylus. 
He  died  at  the  age  of  ninety,  B.  C  467.  His  personal  char- 
acter seems  to  have  been  free  from  the  vices  that  stained  so 
many  of  the  Ionian  poets  ;  and  his  conduct  was  marked  by  tem- 
perance, regularity,  self-command,  and  reverence.  The  rules 
by  which  he  lived  were  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  the  present 
moderately,  and  to  make  its  cares  as  light  as  possible.  He 
sometimes  indulged  in  pungent  sayings.  To  a  person  who 
preserved  a  dead  silence  during  a  banquet,  he  said,  "  My  friend, 
if  you  are  a  fool,  you  are  doing  a  wise  thing ;  but  if  you  are 
wise,  a  foolish  one."  He  has  been  pronounced  the  most  pro- 
lific and  popular  of  all  the  lyric  poets  ;  but  his  works  exist  only 
in  fragments,  of  which  about  two  hundred  have  been  collected 
from  the  authors  that  quoted  them.      Wordsworth  says :  — 

"  0  ye  who  patiently  explore 
The  wreck  of  Herculanean  lore, 
What  rapture,  could  ye  seize 
Some  Theban  fragment,  or  unroll 
One  precious,  tender-hearted  scroll 
Of  pure  Simonides  !  " 

The  poem  on  Danae,  quoted  by  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus, 
has  been  translated  ten  or  twelve  times.  The  subject  is  drawn 
from  the  mythical  age.  Danae  is  exposed  on  the  sea,  with  her 
infant  son  Perseus,  her  father  Acrisius  having  been  warned 
by  an  oracle  that  he  was  to  be  slain  by  his  grandson.  Bryant's 
translation  is  a  tender  and  exquisite  poem,  but  not  sufficiently 
close  to  the  original.  Professor  Norton's  is  equally  poetica 
and  more  faithful :  — 


IONIAN   LYRIC   POETRY.  159 

"  When  the  strong  ark  which  Danae  bore 
Was  tossing  'mid  the  water's  roar, 
While  rising  winds  her  soul  dismay, 
She  bent  o'er  Perseus  as  he  lay, 
Gazed  with  wet  cheeks,  and  placed  her  arm 
Around  him,  as  to  shield  from  harm. 
'  My  boy,'  she  said,  '  what  woe  I  bear ! 
But  thou  sleep'st  sweetly,  free  from  care, 
An  infant's  sleep  in  this  drear  room, 
Dim  lighted,  'mid  a  night  of  gloom. 
Though  the  high  waves  are  dashing  by, 
As  yet  thy  clustering  hair  is  dry ; 
Wrapt  in  thy  purple  mantle  warm, 
Thou,  darling,  dost  not  heed  the  storm  ■ 
But  were  this  dreadful  scene  to  thee 
As  dreadful  as  it  is  to  me, 
Then  wouldst  thou  turn  a  quickened  ear, 
Thy  mother's  troubled  words  to  hear. 
Sleep,  sleep,  my  child,  in  slumber  deep ; 
Would  that  the  waves  and  I  might  sleep  ' 
May  there  some  change  of  purpose  be, 
Disposer  of  my  fate,  with  thee ! 
Grant  me  —  a  bolder  prayer  I  make  — 
Grant  justice  for  this  infant's  sake.'  " 

If  we  now  turn  our  attention  for  a  few  moments  to  the  Gre- 
cian mainland,  we  find  the  same  species  of  Ionian  poetry  flour- 
ishing there,  but  breathing  a  more  manly  vigor.  I  shall  limit 
my  present  view  to  two  examples,  Tyrtseus  and  Solon,  —  the 
former  the  author  of  the  famous  war-elegies  written  for  the 
Spartans  in  their  contests  with  the  Messenians,  and  the  latter 
employing  verse  in  aid  of  his  political  and  legislative  labors. 
Military  poetry,  I  mean  that  which  is  founded  upon  mere  fight- 
ing, is  not  much  to  the  Christian  taste.  But  it  connects  itself 
with  so  many  feelings  deeply  planted  in  the  human  heart,  that 
in  one  form  or  another  it  has  been  a  favorite  species  with  all 
nations.  Much  of  the  lyric  poetry  of  the  Old  Testament 
breathes  this  spirit ;  it  runs  through  the  Greek  poetry  of  every 
age ;  and  within  the  present  century  we  have  witnessed  an  ex- 
raordinary  outburst  of  war-poetry,  in  the  songs  of  Korner,  Fol  • 


160  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

len,  and  the  other  German  poets  of  the  War  of  Liberation, 
Liberty,  love  of  country,  and  the  firm  resolve  to  maintain  her 
rights  and  her  honor,  are,  perhaps,  indissolubly  connected  with 
the  idea  of  fighting ;  and  these  transcendent  and  all-inspiring 
themes  clothe  with  a  glory  not  his  own  the  blood-stained  Mars, 
the  shaker  of  walls  and  sacker  of  cities. 

The  flourishing  period  in  the  life  of  Tyrtseus  fell  between 
680  and  660  B.  C.  According  to  the  ancient  accounts,  the 
Spartans,  hard  pressed  by  the  Messenians,  sent  to  Athens,  in 
obedience  to  a  response  of  the  Pythoness,  requesting  fVom  their 
neighbors  a  general  to  take  command  of  their  armies.  They 
selected  for  this  purpose  Tyrtseus,  a  lame  schoolmaster  of 
Aphidnae,  who  was  forthwith  adopted  with  public  formalities 
as  a  citizen  of  the  state,  and  clothed  with  the  powers  of  com- 
mander-in-chief. It  has  been  supposed  —  I  know  not  why  — 
that  the  Athenians  intended  to  play  a  practical  joke  on  their 
neighbors  by  this  selection.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  they 
could  not  have  made  a  better  choice ;  for  his  lameness  would 
only  be  a  hinderance  to  running  away,  and  this,  as  a  Spartan 
said  to  a  lame  soldier  who  asked  for  a  horse,  was  not  the  Spar- 
tan fashion ;  and  no  training,  I  am  sure,  is  a  better  preparation 
for  the  duties  of  a  general  in  the  field  than  the  administration 
of  a  school.  The  result,  at  any  rate,  showed  the  wisdom  of 
taking  the  schoolmaster.  The  ability  of  his  measures  was  so 
great,  and  the  enthusiasm  roused  by  the  martial  poetry  of  his 
appeals  to  his  adopted  countrymen  was  so  overwhelming,  that 
the  tide  of  battle  was  turned,  civil  discord  quelled,  the  suprem- 
acy of  Sparta  restored,  and  the  tarnished  glory  of  the  Dorian 
name  illumined  with  fresh  lustre.  His  works  —  numerous  in 
their  day,  but  now  existing  only  in  a  few  fragments  —  were 
publicly  recited  on  marches,  in  the  camp,  and  on  the  battle- 
field ;  and  during  the  whole  subsequent  history  of  Sparta  they 
were  honored  in  public  and  in  private,  as  expressing,  with 
Laconic  terseness  and  vigor,  the  spirit  of  martial  bravery  and 
heroic  self-devotion  so  dear  to  the  heart  of  the  nation.  I  shal1 
e;ive  a  single  fragment,  line  for  line,  in  hexameter  and  pentam 


IONIAN  LYRIC  POETRY.  161 

eter,  without  changing  a  thought  or  scarcely  a  word ;  prefer- 
ring this  literal  rudeness  to  the  style  of  translation  in  which  all 
that  is  characteristic  vanishes.  It  is  an  exhortation  to  bravery, 
and  contains  a  picture  o^  the  horrors  of  exile  consequent  on 
defeat.  On  this  point,  the  history  and  poetry  of  Greece, 
from  Homer  to  the  Tragedians,  contain  numerous,  emphatic, 
and  most  affecting  testimonies.  Neither  rank,  age,  sex,  nor 
character  saved  the  conquered  from  the  extremities  of  want, 
servitude,  and  every  species  of  personal  degradation.  In  this 
respect  we  have  certainly  risen  to  a  nobler  humanity  than  the 
noblest  of  the  ancients. 

"  Glorious  is  it  to  perish,  among  the  foremost  expiring, 

When  the  brave-hearted  man  dies  for  his  dear  native  land ; 
But  from  his  birthplace  banished,  and  leaving  rich  acres  behind  him, 

Poverty's  burden  to  bear,  O,  that  is  saddest  of  all ! 
Wandering  abroad  with  his  mother  beloved,  and  his  gray-headed  father, 

Children  of  tender  age,  and  with  the  wife  of  his  youth, 
Hateful,  in  sooth,  shall  he  be  unto  whom  his  footsteps  have  led  him ; 

Bearing  the  foulness  of  want,  bowing  to  penury's  yoke. 
Friends  he  dishonors,  and  covers  with  shame  his  figure  resplendent ; 

Follows  him  every  disgrace ;  insult  and  evil  pursue  ; 
Honor  is  none  for  the  wretch  who  roams  a  beggar  in  exile, 

Nor  respect  for  his  name  afterwards  cherished  by  men. 
Gallantly,  then,  let  us  fight  in  the  warfare  for  country  and  offspring ; 

Willingly  pour  out  our  blood,  lavishly  risking  our  lives. 
Strike  then,  young  champions,  each  by  the  other  courageously  standing 

Never  in  base  flight  lead,  never  in  cowardly  fear ; 
But  in  your  bosoms  arouse  a  strong,  invincible  spirit, 

Loving  not  life  overmuch,  while  with  the  foeman  ye  fight. 
Old  men,  too,  whose  knees  no  longer  are  nimble  in  battle, 

Leave  not  alone  on  the  field,  leave  not  the  elders  to  die. 
Shameful  to  all  would  it  be,  in  the  foremost  ranks  of  the  battle, 

If  in  front  of  the  young  perished  the  elder  in  years,  — 
Whitened  already  his  head,  and  his  chin  with  snowy  beard  covered, 

Gasping  his  brave  soul  away,  lying  outstretched  in  the  dust ; 
Wounded  and  bloody  the  members  his  arm  is  vainly  protecting, 

Shameful  tor  eyes  to  behold,  dreadful  for  heart  to  conceive ; 
Naked  of  armor  his  corse.     But  all  to  the  youthful  is  seemly, 

While  in  his  gracious  prime  lasts  the  bright  flower  of  youth,  — 
'razed  at  by  men  with  wonder,  and  dear  to  the  nearts  of  the  women, 
▼oi>.  i.  11 


162  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

Long  as  he  lives,  and  fair,  fallen  'mid  ranks  of  the  foremost. 
Firmly,  with  feet  well  parted,  let  each  then  stand  to  his  duty, 

Planting  him  strong  on  the  ground,  biting  his  lips  with  his  teeth." 

Solon  belonged  to  the  most  ancient  and  illustrious  family  in 
Athens ;  but  he  lived  at  a  time  when  the  old  aristocracy  and 
the  popular  body  were  in  a  state  of  hopeless  strife  and  discord. 
Instead  of  looking  back  with  longing  and  regretful  eyes  upon 
the  departed  grandeur  of  his  caste,  he  betook  himself  to  prac- 
tical life,  and  retrieved  by  skill  and  honor  in  commerce  the 
dilapidated  fortunes  of  his  house.  In  the  course  of  time,  he 
gained  so  strong  a  hold  upon  the  confidence  of  the  citizens, 
that  he  was  clothed  with  the  august  charge  of  giving  them  a 
new  constitution,  and  so  appeasing  the  dissensions  of  the  state, 
holding  in  his  hands  for  a  time  the  sovereign  power.  How  well 
this  confidence  was  deserved,  the  history  of  the  Athenian 
republic  and  the  administration  of  justice  ever  since  through- 
out the  civilized  world  attest.  Perhaps  no  one  man  has  ex- 
ercised so  wide  an  influence  over  human  affairs  as  Solon. 
Merchant,  traveller,  legislator,  poet,  he  was  illustrious  and 
memorable  in  all  aspects.  In  early  life  he  amused  his  leisure 
hours  by  the  composition  of  love-songs  and  convivial  pieces, 
after  the  fashion  of  the  day.  He,  too,  sighed  over  the 
ephemeral  happiness  of  man,  and  sang  of  love  and  wine  as 
the  best  alleviators  of  the  cares  of  life.  But  the  earnest  busi- 
ness which  the  distracted  state  laid  upon  him  forced  him  out 
of  these  fantastical  lamentations,  and  made  the  poetic  art  to 
him  a  secondary  matter,  subservient  to  political  aims  ;  though 
nature,  as  well  as  study  and  experience,  had  made  him  a  poet 
of  distinguished  ability.  In  his  famous  Salaminian  ode,  of 
whnh  only  two  or  three  verses  remain,  he  is  thought  to  have 
equalled  Tyrtaeus.  In  the  fragments  of  his  other  poems  his 
language  and  versification  are  correct  and  elegant,  and  some- 
times his  verses  are  nervous  and  pointed,  and  not  without  ad- 
mirable poetical  images.  His  morality  is  pure  and  lofty ;  and 
his  expression  of  religious  feeling  is  marked  by  humble  submis- 
sion to  the  Divine  will.    Among  legislators  he  was  the  greatest 


IONIAN   LYRIC    POETRY.  163 

poet ;  among  poets,  the  greatest  legislator ;  and  his  only  fault 
was  that  of  setting  the  bad  example  of  remaining  a  bachelor 
through  a  life  of  eighty  years.  I  give  two  short  passages. 
The  first  is  on  justice. 

"  Short  are  the  triumphs  to  injustice  given. 
Zeus  sees  the  end  of  all ;  like  vapors  driven 
By  early  spring's  impetuous  blast,  that  sweeps 
Along  the  billowy  surface  of  the  deeps, 
Or,  passing  o'er  the  fields  of  tender  green, 
Lays  in  sad  ruin  all  the  lovely  scene, 
Till  it  reveals  the  clear  celestial  blue, 
And  gives  the  palace  of  the  gods  to  view. 
Then  bursts  the  sun's  full  radiance  from  the  skies, 
Where  not  a  cloud  can  form,  or  vapor  rise. 
So  Zeus  avenges  ;  his  no  human  ire, 
Blown  in  an  instant  to  a  scorching  fire, 
But  slow  and  certain ;  though  it  long  may  lie 
Wrapt  in  the  vast  concealment  of  the  sky, 
Yet  never  does  the  dread  avenger  sleep, 
And  though  the  sire  escape,  the  son  shall  weep." 

My  second  extract  is  the  fragment  of  a  poem,  seemmgly 
written  to  warn  the  people  against  the  arts  of  aspiring  dema- 
gogues, probably  at  the  time  when  his  kinsman  —  his  second- 
cousin  —  Peisistratus  had  commenced  the  course  of  intrigue 
which  ended  in  his  usurping  the  government,  with  the  support 
of  the  military  and  of  the  body  of  needy  citizens,  whose  favor 
he  had  secured  by  scattering  money  among  them. 

"  Out  of  the  cloud  the  snow-flakes  are  poured,  and  fury  of  hail-storm  ; 

After  the  lightning's  flash  follows  the  thunderbolt ; 
Tossed  is  the  sea  by  the  winds,  though  now  so  calmly  reposing, 

Hushed  in  a  motionless  rest,  emblem  of  justice  and  peace. 
So  is  the  state  by  its  great  men  ruined ;  and  under  the  tyrant 

Sinks  the  people  unwise,  yielding  to  slavery's  thrall ; 
/Tor  is  it  easy  to  lower  the  ruler  too  highly  exalted, 

After  the  hour  is  gone.     Now  is  the  time  to  foresee." 

I  have  omitted  Anacreon  in  speaking  of  the  Ionian  poets, 
because  the  pieces  which  now  pass  under  his  name  are  amo- 
rous and  bacchanalian   compositions  of  a  much  later  age,  - 


164  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

written,  it  may  be,  in  something  of  his  spirit,  but  bearing  no 
resemblance  to  the  style  of  those  brief  snatches  which  are  all 
of  his  poetry  that  has  survived.  In  the  character  of  Anacreon, 
as  delineated  by  the  ancients,  there  is  nothing  which  deserves 
to  be  dwelt  upon  for  a  moment.  A  parasite  at  the  table  of 
princes  and  tyrants,  careless  of  the  great  interests  of  country 
and  of  the  welfare  of  private  life,  so  that  he  could  drink  and 
revel  to  his  heart's  content,  sober  only  long  enough  to  record 
his  tipsy  jollity,  he  reached  the  dishonored  old  age  of  the  vo- 
luptuary, and  died  an  appropriate  death,  —  choked  by  a  grape- 
stone.  In  all  the  other  lyric  poets,  faulty  as  they  were  in  some 
respects,  there  was  earnest  and  deep  feeling. 

In  looking  back  over  this  department  of  Greek  poetry,  we 
are  struck  with  the  variety  of  the  pictures  which  its  imperfect 
fragments  present,  and  with  the  scenes  of  change  and  revolu- 
tion which  they  bring  dimly  before  us.  The  compact  system 
of  the  heroic  and  Homeric  times  is  broken  in  pieces  ;  but  the 
long  accustomed  trains  of  thought  and  modes  of  expression 
occasionally  reappear.  Gleams  of  the  old  epic  spirit  here  and 
there  flash  out ;  but  generally  the  passing  interests  —  the  agi- 
tations caused  by  the  downfall  of  ancient  forms  and  the  uprising 
of  new  societies  —  have  disturbed  the  calm  of  the  old  imper- 
sonal and  picturesque  delineation,  and  substituted  the  individ- 
ual feeling,  the  reflection,  the  suffering,  of  the  person  and  the 
moment.  Old  institutions,  old  principles,  old  prosperity,  have 
gone  to  decay ;  old  families  have  died  out,  or  sunk  into  imbe- 
cility or  poverty  ;  tradition  and  antique  reverence  have  lost 
their  vital  force  ;  stability  is  no  more,  and  vicissitude  is  the 
order  of  the  age.  The  thoughts  of  men  flow  no  longer  steadily 
in  the  ancient  channels  of  reverend  authority,  but  sweep  over 
..he  stormy  surface  of  life,  nowhere  finding  rest.  Driven  back, 
they  take  refuge  in  egotism  and  sensual  indulgence.  Then 
comes  the  reaction,  —  the  sentimentality,  —  the  "satiety,  —  the 
despair.  Able  and  bold  usurpers,  leaguing  with  the  oppressed 
commons,  grasp  at  tyrannic  sway,  then  are  toppled  down  by 
the  outburst  of  popular  passion.     Brilliant  displays  of  intellect- 


IONIAN    LYRIC    POETRY.  165 

aal  life  illumine  distant  points,  —  Lesbos,  Samos,  Sicily,  Athens, 
Thessaly ;  but  the  hurricane  and  the  swelling  seas  dash  from 
their  base  the  beacon-lights  which  for  a  few  brief  seasons  had 
shot  their  rays  across  the  storm,  the  surge,  and  the  night.  In 
Ionian  Asia  the  prospect  darkens,  as  the  overhanging  cloud  of 
the  Barbarians  draws  nigh ;  but  on  the  mainland  of  Hellas  the 
old  Ionian  stock  exists,  not  yet  wakened  to  the  full  concious- 
ness  of  its  life,  though  at  times  displaying  its  vigor,  in  contrast 
with  the  growing  decrepitude  of  the  early  unfolded  and  early 
dying  culture  of  Asiatic  Ionia.  It  is  preparing  a  new  career 
of  bolder  enterprise,  greater  tenacity,  more  varied  beauty. 
The  seeds  of  liberty  have  been  sown  in  the  soil  of  Attica,  — 
a  barren  soil  indeed ;  but  it  shall  be  fruitful  in  noble  men,  in 
brilliant  poetry,  in  exquisite  and  unapproachable  art,  in  the 
loftiest  as  well  as  the  most  exact  phi.'->sophy,  in  immortal 
eloquence. 


LECTURE    X. 

JEOLIAN  AND   DORIAN   LYRIC   POETRY. 

We  pas3  now  to  a  brief  consideration  of  the  second  of  the 
three  subordinate  types  of  the  Hellenic  character,  as  manifested 
in  the  lyrical  ages,  —  the  .ZEolian.  The  ^Eolians  were  widely 
spread  over  the  continent  of  Greece,  the  -3£gean  Islands,  and 
the  Asiatic  shore.  Accordingly,  they  showed  many  local 
varieties  of  language  and  character ;  yet,  taken  together,  they 
exhibited  peculiarities  of  ethical  notions,  of  poetic  style,  and 
of  music,  which  distinguished  them  clearly,  not  only  from 
the  distant  Dorians,  but  from  the  Ionians  on  whom  they  bor- 
dered. The  ./Eolians  had  less  of  mental  vigor  than  either  the 
Dorians  or  the  Ionians.  Incapable  of  strong  political  activity, 
they  never  dreamed  of  establishing  the  institutions  for  which 
their  neighbors  were  celebrated ;  and  the  traditions  of  a  great 
and  heroic  past  had  but  little  weight  in  steadying  the  levity 
of  their  public  and  private  character.  The  present  and  its 
enjoyments  overpowered  all  consideration  for  the  future,  and 
the  luxuries  of  home  drowned  all  care  for  the  public  good. 
They  were  addicted  to  self-indulgence,  and  liked  not  to  be 
disturbed  at  the  moment  of  enjoyment  by  the  struggling  world 
and  the  warfare  of  life. 

But  a  distinction  is  here  also  to  be  made  between  the  jEoli- 
ans  of  Asia  and  those  of  the  Grecian  mainland.  The  former 
rapidly  fell  from  the  primitive  virtues  which  early  gave  a  high 
pre-eminence  to  the  race ;  the  latter  retained  more  of  manly 
vigor,  and  formed  a  character  which  longer  withstood  the 
storms  of  vicissitude  and  the  wear  of  ages.  On  the  jEolian 
Islands,  life  surrounded  itself  with  every  allurement  that  ad« 


^OLIAN   AND   DORIAN   LYRIC  POETRY.  167 

dressed  the  passions  and  kindled  the  senses  to  the  delights  of 
animal  existence.  Their  physical  organization  was  perhaps 
finer  than  that  of  the  Ionians ;  but  their  sensuous  temperament 
often  ran  into  sensuality.  The  Attic  comedians,  from  whom 
the  popular  impressions  have  been  drawn,  give  exaggerated 
representations  of  their  depravity,  which  are  not^  sustained  by 
contemporary  evidence  ;  and  in  some  particular  cases  they  in- 
dulged in  a  vein  of  calumny,  for  which  literary  history  has 
not  yet  held  them  to  a  sufficiently  stern  account. 

Lesbos  was  the  principal  seat  of  jEolian  culture,  described 
in  the  Iliad  as  a  well-inhabited  island,  whose  maidens  surpassed 
in  beauty  all  the  tribes  of  woman-kind.  Here  lyric  poetry  be- 
gan very  early  to  flourish ;  hence  proceeded  Terpander,  the 
heir  of  Orpheus,  to  lay  the  foundation  of  the  improved  Greek 
music ;  here  were  early  established  temples,  shrines,  and  altars, 
and  the  joyous  festivals,  in  which  the  worship  of  Artemis, 
Apollo,  and  Dionysos  was  celebrated.  Here  maids  and  matrons 
were  not  restrained  to  the  privacy  of  domestic  life.  They 
shared  in  all  the  amusements,  and  were  active  in  all  the  intel- 
lectual occupations  of  their  countrymen,  especially  in  the  culti- 
vation of  music  and  poetry.  Whether  they  assumed  the  dress, 
too,  of  manhood,  we  are  not  informed.  Nearly  the  whole  body 
of  the  poetical  literature  of  Lesbos  is  the  work  either  of  Lesbian 
poetesses,  or  of  those  who  were  trained  under  their  influence 
and  instruction.  They  had  societies  or  clubs  for  friendly, 
social,  and  literary  objects ;  and  even  public  competitions  were 
instituted  for  the  prize  of  beauty.  All  these  things,  combining 
with  the  genial  temperament  of  the  ./Eolians,  developed  in 
them  a  mad  love  of  beauty,  especially  of  the  human  form, 
which  expresses  itself  in  a  frantic,  intoxicated  enthusiasm,  in 
nearly  all  the  fragments  of  their  literature.  Even  the  The  ban 
JEolians  illustrated  this  bias  of  the  national  passion  by  enact- 
ing a  law  imposing  a  fine  upon  any  sculptor  or  painter  who 
should  not  represent  the  beauty  of  the  human  form  as  greater 
than  the  reality,  however  great  that  might  be.  This  passion- 
ate love  of  beauty  lent  a  glow  tr  their  language,  which,  among 


lb*8         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

a  people  of  less  sensitively  attuned  nature,  and  of  a  hardier  cast 
of  thought,  would  have  implied  great  dissoluteness.  Their 
language  was  never  widely  used  as  an  instrument  of  literary 
composition  ;  and  never  became  the  idiom  of  philosophy  or 
history.  It  was  originally  one  of  the  rudest  dialects,  and  it 
remained  in  its  unpolished  state,  the  language  of  many  rustic 
communities,  down  to  a  very  late  period.  Those  of  the  ./Eolian 
race  who  distinguished  themselves  in  literature  abandoned  the 
language  to  which  they  were  born,  and  adopted  one  of  the 
other  dialects,  except  in  the  species  of  lyric  poetry  cultivated 
by  Alcaeus  and  Sappho.  In  this  style  it  was  marked  by  a  very 
peculiar  grace,  made  up  of  naive  simplicity  and  piquant  turns 
of  phrase.  The  omission  of  the  rough  breathing,  the  redupli- 
cation of  the  liquids,  and  the  throwing  back  of  the  accent,  gave 
it  a  soft  and  yet  spicy  vivacity,  in  which  it  has  been  not  unaptly 
compared  to  the  Castilian.  I  would  rather  compare  the  entire 
poetical  literature  of  the  Lesbians  —  the  influence  of  women, 
the  courts  of  beauty,  and  the  brief  duration  of  its  blooming 
period  —  with  the  gay  science  of  the  Provencal  Troubadours, 
the  short-lived  flower  of  whose  song  blossomed  in  the  spring- 
time of  the  Romantic  poetry  of  the  South.  In  the  midst  of  all 
these  blandishments,  under  the  soft  sky  of  the  fairest  JEgean 
islands,  within  the  sound  of  the  flashing  waves  of  the  midland 
sea,  the  lisping,  liquid,  and  passionate  language  of  the  ^Eolians 
was  moulded  to  strophes  of  delicate  beauty ;  and  Sappho  and 
Erinna  mingled  the  melting  tones  of  voice  and  lyre  with  the 
subduing  harmonies  of  nature.     To  them 

"  All  thoughts,  all  passions,  all  delights, 
Whatever  stirs  this  mortal  frame, 
All  are  but  ministers  of  love." 

Setting  aside  Terpander  the  musician,  and  Arion,  whose 
ride  ashore  on  the  dolphin's  back  is  the  subject  of  one  of  the 
pleasant  stories  in  Herodotus,  the  proper  beginning  of  the  Les- 
bian poetry  is  with  Alcaeus.  He  lived  towards  the  end  of 
the  seventh  century  B.  C.  He  seems  to  have  played  not  a 
very  creditable  part  in  the   political  agitations  of  the  island, 


.fiOLIAN   AND   DORIAN  LYEIC   POETRY.  169 

being  at  one  time  a  warm  supporter  of  Pittacus,  and  at  another 
his  bitterest  enemy,  writing  against  him  the  coarsest  and  vilest 
slanders.  But  the  wise  prince — he  was  reckoned  one  of  the 
seven  sages  —  hanged  neither  himself,  as  Lycambes  did,  nor 
Alcaeus,  as  he  might  have  done.  He  set  him  at  liberty,  with 
the  magnanimous  remark,  that  "  forgiveness  is  better  than  re- 
venge." In  a  battle  with  the  Athenians,  Alcaeus  was  seized 
with  the  epidemic  tendency  of  the  ancient  lyric  poets,  took  to 
his  heels,  dropped  his  shield,  and  ran  away.  Like  Archilo- 
chus,  he  thought  the  event  worth  recording  in  a  poetical  epistle 
to  his  friend  Melanippus  of  Mitylene,  whom  he  informs,  in  a 
very  rhythmical  line,  that  "Alcaeus  is  safe,  though  his  arms 
are  lost."  The  Athenians  hung  them  up  as  a  trophy  in  the 
temple  of  Athene,  at  Sigeum.  Notwithstanding  this  little  ac- 
cident, he  passed  with  the  ancients  as  a  model  of  bravery. 
They  judged  him  more  by  his  words  than  by  his  deeds.  He 
had  a  great  deal  to  say  against  tyrants,  and  talked  wonderfully 
well  of  patriotism  and  the  love  of  liberty ;  but  it  does  not  ap- 
pear that  his  labors  in  this  direction  conferred  any  social  or 
civil  blessing  on  his  native  island.  He  was  a  hater  of  poverty, 
and  a  lover  of  money.  This  sentiment  appears  in  several  of  his 
fragments,  as  in  the  following :  — 

"  The  worst  of  ills  and  hardest  to  endure, 

Past  hope,  past  cure, 
Is  Penury,  who  with  her  sister-mate, 
Disorder,  soon  brings  down  the  loftiest  state, 

And  makes  it  desolate. 
This  truth  the  sage  of  Sparta  told, 

Aristodemus  old, — 
•  Wealth  makes  the  man ' ;   on  him  that 's  poor 
Proud  Worth  looks  down,  and  Honor  shuts  the  door." 

The  war-poems  of  Alcaeus  were  very  famous  for  vigor  of 
style  and  brilliancy  of  imagination.  His  convivial  songs  were 
favorites  with  the  topers  of  Greece  and  Rome.  Here  is  what 
he  thought  of  drinking  in  summer   — 

"  Glad  your  hearts  with  rosy  wine, 
Now  the  doir-star  takes  his  round. 


170  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

Sultry  hours  to  sleep  incline, 

Gapes  with  heat  the  sultry  ground. 

Crickets  sing  on  leafy  boughs, 
And  the  thistle  is  in  flower, 

And  men  forget  the  sober  vows 

They  made  to  the  moon  in  some  colder  ho  it." 

And  here  is  what  he  thought  of  drinking  in  winter :  — * 

"Zeus  descends  in  sleet  and  snow; 

Howls  the  vexed  and  angry  deep  ; 
Every  stream  forgets  to  flow, 

Bound  in  winter's  icy  sleep. 
Ocean  wave  and  forest  hoar 
To  the  blast  responsive  roar. 
Drive  the  tempest  from  your  door, 

Blaze  on  blaze  your  hearthstone  piling, 
And  unmeasured  goblets  pour 

Brimful  high,  with  nectar  smiling." 

And  here  is  what  he  thought  of  drinking  in  general :  — 

"  Why  wait  we  for  the  torches'  lights  ? 
Now  let  us  drink,  —  the  day  invites ; 
In  mighty  flagons  hither  bring 

The  deep  red  blood  of  many  a  vine, 
That  we  may  largely  quaff,  and  sing 

The  praises  of  the  god  of  wine,  — 
The  son  of  Zeus  and  Semele, 
Who  gave  the  jocund  grape  to  be 
A  sweet  oblivion  of  our  woes. 

Fill,  fill  the  goblet,  one  and  two ; 
Let  every  brimmer,  as  it  flows, 

In  sportive  chase  the  last  pursue." 

We  cannot  wonder  at  any  madness  or  folly  in  the  life  of  a 
man  so  devoted  to  the  god  of  wine. 

The  longest  piece  remaining  of  this  poet  is  his  brilliant  de- 
scription of  the  martial  furniture  with  which  he  had  embellished 
his  own  habitation  ;  and  this  piece  of  military  foppery  is  a  proof 
that  it  was  the  show  and  gauds  of  war,  and  not  its  hard  blows, 
to  which  he  was  addicted. 

"  From  floor  to  roof  the  spacious  palace-halls 
Glitter  with  war's  array; 


£OIJAN  AND  DORIAN  LYBIC  POETRY.  171 

With  burnished  metal  clad,  the  lofty  walls 

Beam  like  the  bright  noonday. 
There  white-plumed  helmets  hang  from  many  a  nail 

Above,  in  threatening  row; 
Steel-garnished  tunics,  and  broad  coats  of  mail, 

Spread  o'er  the  space  below ; 
Chalcidian  blades  enow  and  belts  are  here, 

Greaves  and  emblazoned  shields,  — 
Well-tried  protectors  from  the  hostil*  spear 

On  other  battle-fields. 
With  these  good  helps  our  work  of  war  's  begun  ; 

With  these  our  victory  must  be  won." 

A.  fine  fragment  of  this  poet  was  paraphrased  by  Sir  William 
Jones,  in  the  noble  lines  so  often  quoted,  "  What  constitutes  a 
State?" 

Upon  a  careful  examination  of  the  life  and  genius  of  Alcasus, 
as  they  appear  in  the  fragments  of  his  works,  we  must  admit 
the  correctness  of  the  high  estimate  the  ancients  placed  upon 
his  poetical  merit.  We  cannot  respect  his  personal  character, 
which  was  stained  by  boastfulness,  excess,  and  perhaps  profli- 
gacy. He  was  an  unscrupulous  and  bitter  hater  of  men  who 
had  in  any  way  offended  him,  and  he  slandered  them  without 
stint  or  decency.  But  his  poetical  powers  were  brilliant  and 
versatile.  His  works  perfected  the  JEolic  style ;  and  though 
he  never  departed  from  the  strophic  order  of  composition,  yet 
he  enriched  that  with  new  rhythmical  forms,  which  were  after- 
wards happily  reproduced  in  the  Latin  by  Horace,  who  con- 
fesses his  indebtedness  to  his  Lesbian  prototype. 

But  the  literary  history  of  the  Lesbian  poetesses,  and  of  those 
who  were  formed  in  that  school,  is  by  far  the  most  interesting 
and  characteristic  chapter  in  ^olian  literature ;  and  the  cen- 
tral figure  in  this  lovely  group  is  Sappho.  She  was  called  the 
Lesbian  nightingale,  and  li  ~ed  contemporaneously  with  Pitta- 
cus  and  Alcaeus.  By  universal  consent,  as  well  of  the  moderns 
as  of  the  ancients,  Sappho  has  always  been  held  to  be  the  mir- 
acle of  her  sex.  Homer  was  called  "  the  Poet,"  and  Sapphc 
"  the  Poetess  " ;  and  she  is  placed  by  the  grave  authority  of 


172  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

Aristotle  in  the  same  rank  with  Homer  and  Archilochus. 
uElian  says  that  Solon,  on  hearing  one  of  her  poems  recited, 
prayed  the  gods  that  he  might  not  die  until  he  had  had  time 
to  learn  it  by  heart.  Plato  called  her  the  tenth  Muse.  An 
epigrammatist  describes  her  as  the  nursling  of  Aphrodite  and 
Eros,  the  delight  of  Hellas,  the  foster-child  of  the  Graces. 
The  time  in  which  she  lived,  and  the  leading  facts  of  her  life, 
are  established  on  fair  authority,  some  of  them  on  contem- 
porary fragments.  Her  family  seems  to  have  belonged  to  an 
iEolian  colony  in  the  Troad,  and  to  have  removed,  perhaps  in 
her  father's  lifetime,  thence  to  Lesbos.  The  names  of  her  par- 
ents and  of  three  brothers  are  preserved ;  some  notices  of  two 
of  the  brothers  are  given  by  Herodotus,  and  there  is  a  frag- 
ment of  a  poem  addressed  to  the  other  by  herself.  She  was 
married  to  a  good  sort  of  rich  man,  from  the  neighboring  island 
of  Andros,  named  Cercolas,  whose  only  distinction,  as  is  gen- 
erally the  case  with  the  husbands  of  famous  women,  was  that 
he  was  the  husband  of  Sappho.  In  such  cases  the  wives  are 
celebrated  per  se  ;  the  husbands,  per  alias.  She  had  a  daugh- 
ter named  Cleis  —  after  the  name  of  her  own  mother  —  whom 
she  addresses  in  one  of  the  preserved  fragments.  Her  fame 
and  her  brilliant  genius  drew  around  her  a  circle  of  women 
whose  tastes  and  pursuits  were  akin  to  her  own,  and  who  con- 
stituted a  sort  of  poetical  academy  or  school  devoted  to  music, 
poetry,  and  every  elegant  pursuit.  According  to  the  scandal 
of  later  times,  the  art  of  love  was  one  of  the  fine  arts  taught 
to  the  younger  members  of  this  sisterhood.  Cercolas  is  not 
heard  of  in  these  agreeable  occupations,  being  probably  engaged 
in  taking  care  of  his  property  over  in  Andros.  These  are  all 
the  facts  positively  known,  from  contemporary  authority,  of  this 
celebrated  woman.  There  is  an  obscure  allusion  to  a  flight 
from  Mitylene  to  Sicily,  to  escape  some  unexplained  dangei, 
between  604  and  592  B.  C.  She  must  have  lived  to  a  some- 
what advanced  age,  since  she  calls  herself  yepatrepa,  an  elderly 
person,  which,  of  course,  implies  in  a  woman  a  considerable 
number  of  years. 


.EOLIAN  AND   DORIAN  LYBIC   POETRY.  173 

The  peculiarity  of  her  social  position,  and  the  freedom  o\ 
manners  generally  allowed  to  the  Lesbian  women,  joined  to 
the  warmth  and  tenderness  of  her  own  poetry,  presented  tempt- 
ing subjects  of  malicious  innuendo  and  exaggerating  satire  to 
the  unscrupulous  wits  of  the  Athenian  comic  stage  three  cen- 
turies later.  With  them  Sappho  became  a  stock  character. 
They  converted  an  old  fable  of  Phaon  into  a  fact,  and  the  hero 
of  it  into  a  reality,  and  so  wove  out  of  these  fictions,  which 
are  never  alluded  to  by  any  writer  until  a  century  after  Sap- 
pho's death,  the  celebrated  story  of  the  Loves  of  Phaon  and 
Sappho.  From  another  ancient  myth,  they  concocted  the 
story  of  the  Lover's  Leap  from  the  Leucadian  cliff.  On  this 
promontory  was  the  site  of  an  early  temple  of  Apollo,  where 
human  sacrifices  were  performed  by  throwing  the  victims  into 
the  waves  below.  In  the  course  of  time,  the  worship  of  Aphro- 
dite took  its  place,  and  there  grew  up  a  superstitious  notion  of 
the  remedial  agency  of  the  waters  under  the  cliff,  especially  a  > 
a  water-cure  for  disappointed  love.  It  was  generally  tried, 
however,  with  the  precaution  of  attaching  bladders  or  other 
buoyant  substances  to  the  body,  as  well  as  stationing  life-boats 
near  at  hand.  An  Epeirot  named  Machatas  —  the  Sam  Patch 
of  the  classic  ages  —  tried  it  four  times  with  perfect  success, 
and  was  known,  from  this  circumstance,  as  Leucopetras,  or 
Whitestone.  Suicide  was,  however,  sometimes  committed  in 
this  way.  Several  well-authenticated  examples  occur,  as  Ar- 
temisia of  Halicarnassus  and  Diodorus. 

The  Phaon  of  the  fable  was  a  young  man  of  surpassing 
beauty  and  irresistible  command  over  the  affections  of  all  who 
fell  in  his  way.  In  consequence  of  these  inconvenient  gifts 
of  Venus,  he  was  constantly  exposed  to  what  old  Mr.  Wel- 
ler  calls  inadwertent  captiwation.  To  avoid  the  importunate 
claims  of  his  Lesbian  admirers,  he  fled  to  the  distant  wilds 
of  Acarnania,  and  there  built  the  temple  of  Apollo  Leucas. 
They,  however,  found  him  out; — for  what  savage  hiding-place 
will  not  Love  explore  ?  —  and,  reduced  to  despair  by  his  ob- 
durate coldness,  threw  themselves  into  the  sea.     These  myth- 


174  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

and  traditions  were  fastened  upon  Sappho  by  the  Athenian 
comic  poets.     Menander  in  a  fragment  says  :  — 

"  Where  yonder  cliff  rears  high  its  crest  in  air, 
White  glittering  o'er  the  distant  wave, 
There  Sappho,  headlong  in  a  briny  grave 
Entombed,  with  frantic  plunge,  her  love  and  her  despair." 

The  story  was  echoed  by  the  Roman  poets,  particularly,  six 
hundred  years  after  her  time,  by  Ovid,  from  whom  the  com- 
mon notions  of  the  character  of  the  poetess  are  directly  drawn. 
His  epistle  of  Sappho  to  Phaon  —  one  of  the  eloquent  infamies 
by  which  that  great  poet,  but  weak  and  bad  man,  disgraced 
the  literature  of  the  Augustan  age  —  was  translated  by  Pope, 
and  imitated,  in  its  poetical  as  well  as  objectionable  features,  in 
his  epistle  of  Eloisa  to  Abelard. 
Byron  says  in  Childe  Harold  :  — 

"  Childe  Harold  sailed  and  passed  the  barren  spot, 

Where  sad  Penelope  o'erlooked  the  wave ; 
And  onward  viewed  the  mount,  not  yet  forgot, 

The  lover's  refuge,  and  the  Lesbian's  grave. 
But  when  he  saw  the  evening  star  above 

Leucadia's  far  projecting  rock  of  woe, 
And  hailed  the  last  resort  of  fruitless  love, 

He  felt,  or  deemed  he  felt,  no  common  glow." 

Thus  Sappho  has  come  down  to  our  day  as  the  type  of  love- 
lorn, despairing,  suicidal  damsels.  On  this  count  in  the  in- 
dictment against  her,  I  say :  —  1.  There  is  not  a  single  men- 
tion of  the  name  of  her  supposed  enchanter  in  her  works.  2. 
The  epithet  elderly^  which  she  frankly  applies  to  herself,  is 
against  the  story.  3.  Though  there  is  passion  enough  in  her 
poems  to  burn  a  whole  Troubadour's  court  of  love,  there  ig 
not  the  slightest  intimation  of  any  desire  to  make  way  with 
herself,  or  even  to  cure  the  distemper,  certainly  not  by  cold 
water.    In  one  of  those  fervent  fragments,  as  Moore  calls  them. 

"  Which  still,  like  sparkles  of  Greek  fire, 
Burn  on  through  time  and  ne'er  expire," 
ihe  says :  — 


JCuLIAN  AND  DORIAN  LYEIC  POETRY.  175 

"  Come,  Aphrodite,  come 

Hither  with  thy  golden  cup, 
Where  nectar-floated  flowrets  swim  ; 

Fill,  fill  the  goblet  up ! 
Thy  laughing  lips  shall  kiss  the  brim,  — 

Come,  Aphrodite,  come." 

1  submit  that  the  woman  who  wrote  this  did  not,  as  the 
grave-digger  in  Hamlet  says,  "  drown  herself  wittingly " : 
"  argal,  she  that  is  not  guilty  of  her  death  shortens  not  her 
own  life." 

Two  other  charges,  somewhat  inconsistent  with  that  of  hav- 
ing drowned  herself,  have  been  brought  against  her  by  the  an- 
cient libellers,  and  too  hastily  believed  by  modern  copyists :  — 
1.  That  her  life  was  immoral.  2.  That  she  was  short,  b'ack, 
and  ugly.  To  sustain  the  first,  her  husband,  that  good  man, 
is  reduced  to  an  etymology.  The  two  great  solvents  in  mod- 
ern criticism  to  put  out  of  the  way  any  person  whose  exist- 
ence is  incompatible  with  a  theory  are  myth  vjil  etymology 
Sappho  has  suffered  by  this  and  the  reverse  process.  They 
have  not  only  vaporized  her  husband  into  an  etymology,  but 
have  consolidated  a  myth  into  a  lover.  Her  husband  thus  pu* 
out  of  the  way,  she  was  next  represented  by  the  comedians 
as  engaged  in  disreputable  intrigues  with  Anacreon,  Hipponax, 
and  Archilochus.  A  fancy  sketch,  by  Hermesianax,  a  writer 
in  the  age  of  Philip,  is  very  picturesque,  but  entirely  without 

foundation :  — 

"  With  her  the  sweet  Anacreon  strayed 
Begirt  with  many  a  Lesbian  maid  ; 
And  fled  for  her  the  Samian  strand,  — 
For  her,  his  vine-clad  native  land, 
A  bleeding  country,  left  the  while 
For  wine  and  love  in  Sappho's  isle." 

Professor  Volger,  who  published  an  historico-critical  essay 
upon  this  subject  in  1809,  takes  sides  against  her,  but  considers 
the  charges  of  no  consequence  when  compared  with  the  lustre 
of  her  genius.  He  was  followed  by  two  German  Professors, 
who,  with  a  transcendental  gallantry  worthy  of  the  scholarship 


176  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

)f  their  erudite  nation,  and  of  the  reverence  for  woman  cher 
Ished  by  the  ancient  Germans  in  the  time  of  Tacitus,  have 
roken  lances  in  defence  of  the  calumniated  poetess  who  has 
been  in  her  grave  these  five  and  twenty  centuries.  The  work 
of  oneN^f  her  defenders  is  called  "  Sappho  freed  from  a  Prevail- 
ing Prejudice  " ;  and  that  of  the  other,  "  Sappho  and  Erinna, 
described  according  to  their  Lives,  and  the  Fragments  of  their 
Works."  The  vindication  set  up  by  these  able  and  chivalrous 
Professors  has  been  very  generally  acquiesced  in ;  but  recently 
the  whole  subject  has  been  reconsidered  by  Mr.  Mure,  who 
examines  the  evidence  with  the  metaphysical  acuteness  of  a 
Scotch  advocate,  and  draws  a  strong  conclusion  against  the 
poetess.  He  scrutinizes  every  expression  in  her  poems,  for  the 
purpose  of  detecting  autobiographical  intimations  and  confes- 
sions of  guilt ;  pries  into  all  the  circumstances  and  conditions 
of  her  life,  and  deals  with  her  as  austerely  as  John  Knox  dealt 
with  poor  Queen  Mary.  It  almost  seems  as  if  Scotch  Presby- 
terians had  an  invincible  antipathy  to  handsome  women.  Pro- 
fessor Volger  believes  the  story  of  her  being  in  love  with  Pha- 
on,  and  throwing  herself  in  despair  from  the  Leucadian  cliff: 
though  he  admits  that  she  must  have  been  at  least  forty  years 
of  age,  since  she  had  been  married,  had  already  a  grown-up 
daughter,  and  was  now  a  widow.  As  to  the  improbability  of 
her  having  been  so  desperately  enamored  at  that  sober  and 
respectable  age,  he  says,  we  are  not  without  examples  of  old 
ladies  in  love  with  young  gentlemen,  and  of  young  gentlemen 
not  in  love  with  old  ladies. 

As  to  the  other  lovers,  Archilochus  died  before  Sappho  was 
born  ;  Hipponax  was  born  after  Sappho  died ;  and  Anacreon 
was  two  years  old  when  Sappho  was  forty-eight.  There  is, 
therefore,  what  the  logicians  call  a  violent  improbability  that 
any  unbecoming  relations  could  have  existed  between  Sappho 
and  either  of  these  distinguished  poets  ;  and  theirs  are  the  onlj 
names  specified  by  the  ancient  libellers. 

As  to  the  charge  of  ugliness,  the  testimony  of  persons  who 
jved  many  centuries  after  she  was  dead  and  gone  is  hardly  to 


.EOLIAN   AND  DORIAN   LYRIC  POETRY.  177 

be  taken,  unless  corroborated  by  other  evidence.  That  villain 
Ovid  represents  her  as  short  and  black ;  Maximus  Tyrius,  a 
tedious  writer  in  the  time  of  the  Antonines,  says  that  she  was 
diminutive  and  swarthy ;  Bayle  calls  her,  I  presume  on  these 
authorities,  laide;  petite  et  noire;  Madame  Dacier  says  she  was 
•petite  et  brune;  and  Professor  Dalzel,  a  Scotchman,  takes  a 
middle  course,  and  describes  her  as  one  "  quce  neque  inter  pul- 
chras,  neque  inter  deformes,  sui  sexus,  numerari  possit."  I  be- 
lieve it  is  a  general  fact  that  ugly  women,  if  there  be  any  such, 
set  an  exaggerated  value  upon  personal  beauty.  Madame  de 
Stael  is  said  to  have  declared  that  she  would  surrender  all  her 
genius  and  learning  in  exchange  for  beauty.  Now,  applying 
this  precedent  inversely  to  the  case  of  Sappho,  there  are  two 
lines,  quoted  by  Galen  the  physician,  in  which  she  says : 

"  Beauty,  fair  flower,  upon  the  surface  lies, 
But  worth  with  beauty  e'en  in  aspect  vies  " ;  — 

from  which  we  may  infer  that  Sappho,  being  beautiful,  set  no 
undue  value  upon  it.  Alcseus  addresses  her  as  "Violet- 
crowned,  pure,  sweetly  smiling  Sappho  "  ;  and  it  would  not  be 
easy  to  make  a  pleasanter  picture  than  is  here  suggested  in  a 
single  graphic  line.  Plato  repeatedly  calls  her  "  the  beautiful 
Sappho,"  and  Plutarch  and  Athenaeus  adopt  this  description. 
There  are,  besides  busts,  several  portraits  of  Sappho  on  coins 
and  gems  of  her  native  island, — in  all,  I  believe,  six.  These 
are  published  in  Wolf's  edition  of  the  Greek  Poetesses ;  and 
they  confirm  the  hints  of  Alcaeus  and  the  description  of  Plato. 
I  conclude,  on  the  whole,  first,  that  she  did  not  leap  off  the 
Leucadian  cliff;  secondly,  that  she  was  not  an  immoral  woman ; 
and  thirdly,  that  she  was  a  handsome  woman  ;  or,  at  any  rate, 
that  she  had  a  fine  intellectual  brow,  the  charm  of  a  sweet  and 
amiable  countenance,  and  a  brilliant  expression  of  poetic  sensi- 
bility and  dazzling  genius,  and  that  she  justly  commanded  the 
unmeasured  admiration  of  some  of  the  best  minds  of  antiquity. 
Her  works,  like  those  of  the  other  lyric  poets,  exist,  with  two 
exceptions,  only  in  fragments.  But  from  these  slight  speci- 
mens we  can  well  understand  the  ground  on  which  her  poetical 

VOL.   I.  12 


1T8  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND  POETRY. 

fame  rested.  In  some,  there  is  a  slight  touch  of  convivial  gay- 
ety ;  others  breathe  a  depth  of  passion,  and  are  touched  with  a 
warmth,  to  which  the  coldness  of  Northern  natures  has  but 
little  magnetic  affinity.  Her  style  is  arch,  vivid,  flowing.  She 
delineates  the  softer  passions  with  tenderness  and  ideal  beauty. 
She  clothes  her  thoughts  with  incomparable  suavity  of  language. 
She  gathers  around  them  images  borrowed  from  the  fairest  and 
brightest  objects  in  creation,  —  from  the  stars,  the  breath  of 
heaven,  the  musical  fall  of  rain  among  the  branches  and  the 
leaves  ;  from  the  ruddy  light  of  morning,  and  the  gray  stillness 
of  evening ;  from  fruits  and  trees ;  from  the  rose,  the  violet, 
the  primrose,  and  the  lily,  —  children  of  Nature,  and  objects  of 
her  fervent  sympathy  and  passionate  love. 

Achilles  Tatius,  of  the  fifth  century,  gives,  in  prose,  the  sub- 
stance of  a  little  poem  of  Sappho.  "  If  Zeus  had  willed  to  set 
a  king  over  the  flowers,  the  rose  would  have  been  the  king  of 
the  flowers.  It  is  the  ornament  of  the  earth,  the  glory  of  the 
plants,  the  eye  of  the  flowers,  the  blush  of  the  meadow,  beauty 
that  lightens.  It  breathes  of  love,  it  welcomes  Aphrodite,  it  is 
plumed  with  sweetly  perfumed  leaves,  the  petal  laughs  to  the 
zephyr." 

The  qualities  of  Sappho's  mind  and  heart,  as  well  as  the 
vivid  characteristics  of  her  style,  are  seen  distinctly  enough  in 
the  few  brief  snatches  of  her  song  which  time  has  spared  to  us. 
A  delicate  feeling  for  quiet  Nature  breathes  in  these  lines  t.  — 

"  The  stars  around  the  lovely  moon 
Their  radiant  visage  hide,  as  soon 
As  she,  full-orbed,  appears  to  sight, 
Flooding  the  earth  with  her  silvery  light." 

Her  love  of  intellectual  pursuits  is  expressed  in  a  short  passage 
from  an  address  to  some  rich  and  proud  Lesbian  woman,  whc 
had  shown  her  indifference  to  poetry.  It  is  the  only  sarcastw 
passage  in  all  the  fragments :  — 

"  In  the  cold  grave  where  thou  shalt  he, 
All  memory,  too,  of  thee  shall  die, 
Who,  in  this  life's  auspicious  hours, 


-EOLIAN  AND  DORIAN  LYRIC   POE'iRY  179 

Disdain'st  Pieria's  genial  flowers  ; 
And,  in  the  mansions  of  the  dead, 
With  the  vile  crowd  of  ghosts,  thy  shade, 
WTiile  nobler  spirits  point  with  scorn, 
Shall  flit  neglected  and  forlorn." 

The  following  lines  refer  to  her  daughter :  — 

"  I  have  a  child  —  a  lovely  one  — 
In  beauty  like  the  golden  sun, 
Or  like  sweet  flowers  of  earliest  bloom ; 
And  Cleis  is  her  name,  for  whom 
I  Lydia's  treasures,  were  they  mine, 
Would  glad  resign." 

This  little  dialogue  with  the  rose  embodies  a  graceful  senta- 

ment :  — 

"  Sweet  rose  of  May !  sweet  rose  of  May ! 
Whither,  ah  whither  fled  away  ? 

"  Bosb. 
"  What 's  gone  no  time  can  e'er  restore ; 
I  come  no  more,  —  I  come  no  more." 

The  following  lines,  describing  a  happy  and  honorable  love, 
speak  well  for  Sappho :  — 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  own  it  true,  — 
Pleasure  's  the  good  that  I  pursue  ,• 
How  blest  is  then  my  destiny, 
That  I  may  love  and  honor  too ! 
So  bright,  so  brave  a  love  is  that  allotted  me." 

The  two  poems  on  which  the  common  idea  of  her  character 
as  a  woman  and  a  poetess  is  chiefly  formed  are  the  "  Ode  to 
Venus,"  and  the  "  Ode  to  a  Beloved  Object."  They  doubt- 
less express,  in  a  fervent  manner,  her  apprehension  of  the  pas- 
sions she  so  vividly  describes ;  but  I  see  no  ground  for  giving 
them  the  autobiographical  application  which  some  critics  as- 
sign to  them.  Plutarch  compares  her  heart  to  a  volcano.  It 
is  said  that  one  of  the  Greek  physicians  found  the  symptoms 
of  love  so  accurately  described,  that  he  copied  the  whole  second 
ode  into  his  book  of  diagnosis,  and  regulated  his  prescriptions 
by  it.  Longinus,  in  a  different  mood,  quotes  it  in  his  treatise 
on  the  Sublime.      "  Is  it  not  wonderful,"  ssys  that  able  an  \ 


180  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

elegant  critic,  "  how  she  calls  at  once  on  soul,  body,  ears, 
tongue,  eyes,  color — on  all  at  once  she  calls  —  as  if  frantic  and 
beside  herself,  and  how,  with  opposite  effects  and  emotions, 
she  freezes,  she  glows,  she  raves,  she  returns  to  reason,  she 
shakes  with  terror,  she  is  on  the  brink  of  death?  It  is  not  a 
single  passion,  but  a  congress  of  passions."  These  poems  are 
well  known  in  English  literature,  in  the  old  and  very  gracefu 
translation  of  Ambrose  Phillips.  I  have  preferred  to  delineate 
her  character,  as  I  understand  it,  from  the  fragments,  which 
seem  to  me  to  have  a  closer  personal  bearing.  I  have  dwelt 
on  these  details  of  the  life  and  works  of  an  illustrious  woman, 
because  she  has  shared  the  fortune  of  others  of  her  sex,  en- 
dowed like  her  with  God's  richest  gifts  of  intellect  and  heart, 
who  have  been  the  victims  of  remorseless  calumny  for  assert- 
ing the  prerogatives  of  genius,  and  daring  to  compete  with  men 
in  the  struggle  for  fame  and  glory. 

A  long  list  of  Greek  poetesses  has  been  preserved,  with  nu- 
merous fragments  of  their  works.  Some  of  their  names,  how- 
ever, have  proved  to  be  mere  epithets.  The  name  of  Agacle, 
which  has  made  some  noise  in  literary  history,  says  an  inge- 
nious writer  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  "  is  no  better  than  an 
accusative  case."  An  elegant  epigrammatist  of  the  Augustan 
age  selects  nine,  and  recognizes  their  claims  to  be  reckoned 
as  the  mortal  Muses. 

"  These  the  maids  of  heavenly  tongue, 
Reared  Pierian  cliffs  among  :  — 
Anyte,  as  Homer  strong ; 
Sappho,  star  of  Lesbian  song; 
Erinna ;  famous  Telesilla ; 
Myro  fair ;  and  fair  Praxilla ; 
Corinna,  she  that  sang  of  yore 
The  dreadful  shield  Athene  bore  ; 
Myrto  sweet ;  and  Nossis,  known 
For  tender  thought  and  melting  tone ;  — 
Framers  all  of  deathless  pages, 
Joys  that  live  for  endless  agesP 
Nine  the  Muses  famed  in  heaven  ; 
And  nine  to  mortals  earth  has  given." 


JJOLIAN   AND   DORIAN  LYRIC   POETRY.  181 

JErinna  was  the  contemporary,  friend,  and  pupil  of  Sappho. 
Though  not  born  in  Lesbos,  she  was  called  the  Lesbian,  on 
account  of  her  habitual  residence  there,  having  been  drawn 
thither,  like  many  other  young  persons  of  genius  and  enthusi- 
asm, by  the  attractions  of  the  literary  circle  that  gathered 
around  Sappho.  She  was  a  maiden  of  refined  temperament, 
fervid  imagination,  and  intellect  ripened  into  too  early  matu- 
rity by  the  excitements  of  such  scenes  and  such  society.  Her 
sensitive  nature  soon  exhausted  itself,  and  she  died  at  the  age 
of  eighteen  or  nineteen ;  but  not  until  she  had  written  poems 
which  some  of  the  ancient  critics  placed  higher  than  Sappho's. 
Her  early  death  is  the  subject  of  many  touching  little  poems 
in  the  collection  of  epigrams.  The  only  two  lines  preserved 
of  her  principal  poem,  which  was  written  in  hexameters, 
breathe  a  melancholy  tone,  as  if  that  foreboding  which  so  often 
seems  to  cast  its  shadow  over  the  tremulous  sensibility  of  richly 
gifted  youth  modulated  her  song,  without  her  own  conscious- 
ness, to  a  plaintive  strain  :  — 

"  Soon  shall  the  faint-breathing  echo  to  unseen  Hades  be  floated, 
And  with  the  dead  be  silence ;  for  darkness  pours  over  the  eyelids." 

For  the  sake  of  briefly  exhibiting  the  contrast  between  the 
iEolian  spirit  on  the  Asiatic  side  and  that  on  the  European 
Bide  of  the  iEgean  Sea,  I  will  mention  one  or  two  more  poet- 
esses. Corinna  of  Tanagra  was  a  contemporary  and  rival  of 
Pindar.  She  was  a  poetess  of  extraordinary  vigor,  and  though 
she  at  first  censured  Myrtis,  who  had  taught  Pindar  the  lyric 
art,  and  afterwards  beaten  him  repeatedly  in  it, — 

"  Shame  and  scorn  to  Myrtis  bold ! 
She,  though  cast  in  female  mould, 
Dared  to  strike  the  rival  lyre, 
And  battle  wage  with  Pindar's  fire,"  — 

yet  she  afterwards  changed  her  mind,  and  herself  gained  five 
lyrical  victories  over  the  great  Theban.  Pausanias,  the  Greek 
traveller,  in  describing  his  visit  to  Tanagra,  says :  "  There  is 
a  monument  of  Corinna,  the  only  Tanagrean  woman  who 
wrote  poetry,  in  a  conspicuous  part  of  the  city ;  and  there  is  a 


182         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

picture  in  the  gymnasium,  in  which  she  is  represented  with  s 
wreath  upon  her  head,  on  account  of  a  poetical  victory  she 
gained  over  Pindar  in  Thebes.  She  appears  to  me  to  have 
gained  it,"  says  the  crusty  old  traveller,  "  partly  by  her  dialect, 
since  she  sang  not  in  the  Doric,  as  Pindar  did,  but  in  that 
which  was  understood  by  the  jEolians;  and  partly  because, 
if  we  may  judge  by  her  portrait,  she  was  the  most  beautiful 
woman  of  her  age."  I  am  sorry  to  add  that  the  great  Pindar 
was  so  little  pleased  with  his  defeat,  that  he  very  impolitely 
called  her  a  sow.  Besides  lyrical,  she  wrote  heroic  poems, 
one  of  which  was  on  the  War  of  the  Seven  against  Thebes. 

The  character  of  the  Dorians  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
phenomena  in  ancient  history,  —  remarkable  in  itself  and  in 
its  contrasts  with  the  other  races.  In  the  great  speech  of 
Pericles  in  Thucydides,  he  runs  a  covert  comparison  between 
the  Athenians,  who  were  the  extreme  Ionians,  and  the  Spar- 
tans, who  were  exaggerated  Dorians.  The  opposition  was  so 
deep  and  violent,  that,  in  spite  of  the  Hellenic  bond  of  unity, 
they  finally  rushed  into  the  Peloponnesian  war,  which  wai 
marked  by  all  the  fierceness,  revenge,  obstinacy,  and  blood- 
shed that  naturally  belong  to  wars  of  races.  The  Dorian  had 
no  private  life.  The  moment  he  was  born,  he  was  submitted 
to  a  public  inspector  to  decide  whether  he  was  worth  bringing 
up.  If  he  did  not  give  proof  of  a  sufficiently  vigorous  constitu- 
tion for  the  hard  life  the  Spartan  was  called  to  lead,  he  was 
handed  over  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  wolves  of  Mount 
Taygetus ;  if  he  did,  to  the  still  sharper  discipline  of  a  Spartan 
education.  This  education  had  a  grim  kind  of  sociability  about 
it.  He  lived  in  the  company  of  his  equals  in  age  and  station, 
with  whom  he  sat  at  table  and  ate  his  black  broth,  not  being 
allowed  to  take  it  home  where  he  might  have  made  as  many 
wry  faces  as  he  pleased.  An  Athenian  once  visited  Sparta  on 
some  public  business.  As  usual  with  distinguished  strangers, 
he  was  entertained  at  a  public  banquet.  Returning  to  Athens, 
and  reporting  the  result  of  his  mission,  he  added  that  be  now 


j£OLIAN   AND   DORIAN  LYRIC   POETRY.  183 

understood  why  the  Spartans  were  so  ready  to  remain  on  the 
battle-field ;  for  a  Spartan  death  was  less  formidable  than  a 
Spartan  dinner.  Had  the  Spartan  been  asked,  what  was  the 
chief  end  of  man,  his  answer  would  have  been,  to  live  as  un- 
comfortably as  possible,  and  to  die  fighting,  spitted  by  a  hostile 
spear  in  front.  The  passion  of  friendship  and  respect  for  the 
aged  were,  however,  cherished  sentiments  in  the  Dorian  heart, 
and  throw  the  light  of  humanity  over  Dorian  existence.  On 
the  other  hand,  their  cruelty  to  the  Helots,  their  slaves,  sur- 
passed the  cruelties  elsewhere  inflicted,  whether  in  ancient  or 
modern  times,  upon  the  victims  of  hideous  wrong  in  that  for- 
lorn condition.  They  held  woman  in  high  honor,  but  not  in 
that  chivalrous  respect  which  permits  not  even  the  breath  of 
heaven  to  visit  her  too  roughly.  Their  sentiment  was  not  gal- 
lantry nor  romance,  nor  a  poetical  appreciation  of  woman,  such 
as  led  the  knight  of  the  Middle  Ages  to  worship  her.  The 
Dorian  girl  underwent  a  training  nearly  as  severe  as  her 
brother's.  Her  rights  were  acknowledged,  her  opinions  re- 
spected, and  the  corresponding  duties  were  exacted.  In  box- 
ing, wrestling,  and  warlike  exercises,  in  giving  hard  blows, 
whether  abroad  or  at  home,  the  men  found  the  women  quite 
their  match,  as  the  nickname  they  bore  at  Athens,  Broken- 
ears,  sufficiently  shows. 

The  effect  of  this  gymnastic  training  is  hinted  at  in  a  scene 
of  the  Lysistrata  of  Aristophanes.  The  women  of  Greece  have 
been  called  to  a  general  convention  to  take  measures  for  the 
establishment  of  peace.  On  the  arrival  of  Lampito,  the  dele- 
gate from  Lacedsemon,  she  is  saluted  by  Lysistrata :  — 

"Hail! 
Lampito,  dearest  of  Laconian  women. 
How  shines  thy  beauty,  O  my  sweetest  friend ! 
How  fair  thy  color,  full  of  life  thy  frame ' 
Why,  thou  couldst  choke  a  bull. 

"  Lampito. 
"  Yes,  by  the  twain; 
For  I  qo  practise  the  gymnastic  art, 
And,  leaping,  strike  my  backbone  with  my  heel* 


184  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

"  LY9I8TRAT A . 

"  In  sooth,  thy  bust  is  lovely  to  behold." 

The  Dorians  were  the  quintessence  of  unreasoning  conser- 
vatism. The  institutions  of  their  ancestors  were  the  height  of 
wisdom,  and  to  change  them  was  impious.  They  refused  to 
put  a  new  seasoning  into  their  broth,  or  an  additional  string  to 
the  ancient  four-stringed  lyre.  Old  bread,  old  meat,  old  iron, 
old  black  soup,  old  fellows,  everything  old,  except  old  wine, 
they  liked.  In  his  speech,  the  Dorian  was  crusty  and  brief, 
partly  because  he  had  few  things  to  say,  and  partly  because  he 
thought  few  things  worth  saying  at  all.  Like  the  English,  he 
had  a  great  talent  for  silence.  Often,  however,  when  he  did 
speak,  there  was  a  deal  of  meaning  in  those  pithy  sentences. 
He  despised  the  lisping  Lesbian  and  the  fluent  Ionian,  and 
sometimes  a  single  phrase  of  his  struck  'ead  a  whole  oration 
of  his  eloquent  neighbors.  To  the  old-fashioned  dialect  which 
his  fathers  brought  down  from  the  mountains  he  adhered  with 
a  religious  veneration.  The  broad  alpha  was  as  sacred  to  him 
as  the  broad  brim  of  a  Quaker  hat  is  to  the  follower  of  Penn. 
The  peculiarities  of  his  speech  —  terse  in  words,  full  and  broad 
in  sound,  short  in  construction  —  gave  a  point  to  his  conversa- 
tion, scarcely  to  be  represented  in  another  language.  Agesi- 
laus  the  Great,  hearing  one  praise  an  orator  who  had  the 
power  of  magnifying  little  things,  said,  "  I  do  not  like  a  shoe- 
maker who  puts  large  shoes  on  a  small  foot."  Another,  hear- 
ing a  lame  Spartan  soldier  ask  for  a  horse,  said,  "  Friend,  dost 
thou  not  see  that  war  needs  men  not  to  run,  but  to  stand  ?  " 
The  king  was  once  asked  to  hear  a  singer  who  imitated  the 
nightingale.  He  said,  "I  have  often  heard  the  nightingale  her- 
self/' Being  asked  which  of  the  virtues  was  the  better,  brav- 
ery or  justice,  he  said,  "  Bravery  is  useless  without  justice ; 
but  if  all  men  were  just,  there  would  be  no  need  of  bravery." 
To  an  Athenian  who  said,  "  We  have  chased  you  many  a  time 
from  the  Cephissus,"  Antalcidas  replied,  "  But  we  have  never 
chased  you  from  the  Eurotas."  Eudamidas,  seeing  Xeno- 
crates  the  philosopher,  already   advanced  in  age,   discussing 


jEOLIAN  and  dorian  lyric  poetry.  18b 

some  subject  with  his  disciples,  asked  who  that  old  man  was. 
Some  one  replied,  that  he  was  one  of  the  wise  men  who  seek 
after  virtue.  "  If  he  is  still  seeking  it,"  he  replied,  "  when 
will  he  find  and  practise  it?"  To  a  fellow  who  said,  while 
taking  a  punishment,  "  I  did  the  wrong  without  meaning  to," 
a  Spartan  replied,  "  Then  be  flogged  without  meaning  to." 
Periander,  the  physician,  was  distinguished  in  his  profession, 
but  had  written  some  very  poor  poems.  "Why,"  said  a  Spar- 
tan friend,  "  do  you  prefer  to  be  called  a  bad  poet,  rather  than 
a  good  doctor  ?  "  Sometimes  they  showed  traces  of  a  higher 
and  more  humane  philosophy  than  these  pungent  sayings  in- 
dicate. Ariston,  hearing  a  person  praise  the  maxim  of  Cle- 
omenes,  who  declared  it  to  be  the  duty  of  a  good  king  to  benefit 
his  friends  and  injure  his  enemies,  replied,  "  How  much  better, 
my  good  sir,  to  benefit  his  friends,  indeed,  but  to  make  friends 
of  his  enemies  ! " 

The  Doric  language  was  widely  spoken.  It  spread  over  the 
Peloponnesus  and  nearly  the  whole  north  of  Greece.  It  occu- 
pied the  great  island  of  Crete,  and  the  whole  southwest  of  Asia 
Minor.  It  was  established  in  Africa,  in  Sicily,  in  a  great  part 
of  Magna  Grecia,  and  in  the  southeast  of  Italy.  In  its  literary 
form  it  always  remained  the  language  of  choral  composition, 
whether  lyric  or  tragic,  and  in  its  spoken  form  it  continued  in 
its  original  seats  down  to  the  second  or  third  century  of  the 
Christian  era.  The  literature  of  this  language  was  copious, 
and  the  architecture  which  bears  the  name  of  Doric  was  prom- 
inent among  the  Grecian  styles ;  but  the  Dorians  themselves 
showed  little  aptitude  for  letters  or  arts.  Their  women  some- 
times wrote.  Telesilla  of  Argos  was  famous  for  her  Odes  ;  but 
more  famous  for  having  led  out  the  women  to  drive  back  an  in- 
vading army  from  the  walls.  She  was  honored  with  a  statue, 
which  represented  her  as  looking  at  a  helmet,  which  she  held 
in  her  hand,  about  to  p^ace  it  on  her  head,  while  her  books  lay 
scattered  at  her  feet.  The  longest  poem  known  to  have  been 
written  by  a  Spartan  Dorian  consists  of  three  lines.  It  was 
called  the  Trichoria,  and  was  sung  at  the  festival  celebrated 
by  old  men,  youths,  and  boys. 


186  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND  POETRY. 

"  OLD  MBIT. 

"  Brave  youths  were  we  in  the  days  gone  by. 

"  YOUTHS. 

"  Brave  youths  are  we ;  if  ye  doubt,  ye  may  try. 

"BOYS. 

"  Braver  youths  far  than  ye,  in  our  day,  we  shall  be." 

There  is  a  line  of  a  dancing  song,  quoted  by  Lucian,  and  thus 
rendered  by  Mure :  — 

"  Forward  !  boys,  and  merrily  foot  it,  and  dance  it  better  and  better  still." 

They  had  many  festivals ;  but  the  poems  for  them  were  gen- 
erally written  by  the  Greeks  of  other  races.  Their  war-songs 
and  elegies  were  for  the  most  part  the  work  of  Ionians,  in  the 
Ionian  language.  The  proper  Doric  poetry  was  generally  writ- 
ten by  Ionians  or  JEolians.  Such  pursuits  the  Dorians  held  to 
be  unworthy  of  a  manly  and  warlike  race.  Dorian  music  was 
composed  and  Doric  edifices  were  built  by  artists  whom  they 
employed,  as  they  would  so  many  dancing-masters.  When  a 
distinguished  composer  was  introduced  to  a  Spartan  king  as  the 
best  harper  of  the  age,  the  king  returned  the  compliment  by 
introducing  his  own  cook  as  the  best  maker  of  black  broth. 

It  is  singular  that  the  very  earliest  Spartan  poet,  Alcman, 
who  flourished  in  the  middle  of  the  seventh  century  B.  C, 
should  have  been  one  of  the  most  jovial  in  all  Greek  literature. 
He  was,  however,  an  Asiatic  by  birth,  and  was  brought  into 
Peloponnesus  as  a  slave.  His  revelling  pieces  enjoyed  a  great 
popularity  with  the  ascetic  Spartans,  who  seem  to  have  sea- 
soned their  black  broth  by  trying  "  to  cloy  the  hungry  edge 
of  appetite  by  bare  imagination  of  a  feast."  I  pass  over  the 
fragments  in  which  he  celebrates  the  pleasures  of  eating  and 
drinking,  or  describes  his  favorite  dishes,  or  eulogizes  his  own 
amazing  appetite,  or  glories  in  his  title  of  the  all-devouring 
Alcman,  or  gives  a  list  of  his  favorite  wines,  to  quote  a  piece 
of  natural  description,  which  I  think  is  mai'ked  by  great  beauty 
of  thought,  as  well  as  by  picturesque  expression  :  — 


MOUAN   AND   DORIAN   LYRIC   POETRY.  187 

Now  o'er  the  drowsy  earth  still  night  prevails. 

Calm  sleep  the  mountain-tops  and  shady  dales. 

The  rugged  clifls  and  hollow  glens ; 

The  wild  beasts  slumber  in  their  dens, 

The  cattle  on  the  hill.     Deep  in  the  sea 

The  countless  finny  race  and  monster  brood 

Tranquil  repose.     Even  the  busy  bee 

Forgets  her  daily  toil.     The  silent  wood 

No  more  with  noisy  hum  of  insect  rings ; 

And  all  the  feathered  tribe,  by  gentle  sleep  subdued, 

Perch  in  the  glade,  and  hang  their  drooping  wings.' 


LECTURE    XI. 

PINDAR  —  THE    GREEK   DRAMA.  —  jESCHYLUS 

In  the  picture  I  have  endeavored  to  give  of  the  poetry  ot 
Greece  during  the  lyrical  age,  I  have  been  obliged  to  omit 
many  names  belonging  to  each  of  the  three  races,  taking  only 
such  as  seemed  to  me  to  have  something  more  characteristic 
than  the  rest.  It  may  have  occurred  to  some  to  ask,  why 
Pindar,  the  greatest  lyric  poet  of  Greece,  and,  in  the  estimation 
of  some,  the  greatest  in  the  world,  has  not  been  brought  for- 
ward among  the  Dorian  lyrists.  The  reason  is,  that  he  is  to 
be  regarded  as  the  poet  of  the  nation  rather  than  of  a  race.  He 
rose  to  an  eminence  in  the  literature  of  Greece  second  only  to 
that  of  Homer  himself.  Homer  was  called  the  poet,  Sappho 
the  poetess,  and  Pindar  the  lyrist.  Chronologically,  he  was 
the  contemporary  of  the  great  dramatists.  In  early  youth  he 
studied  at  Athens,  and  ever  afterward  the  relations  between  him 
and  that  city,  which  he  calls  the  "  prop  of  Hellas,  divine  city, 
splendid  Athens,"  were  marked  by  the  interchange  of  mutual 
and  gracious  offices  of  kindness  and  regard.  After  his  death, 
the  people,  who  had  often  welcomed  him  with  public  honors 
and  private  hospitalities,  commemorated  their  appreciating  love 
of  his  genius  by  raising  a  statue  to  his  memory,  which  Pausa- 
nias  saw  there  six  centuries  later.  His  compositions,  in  their 
form  and  in  the  mode  of  their  delivery,  bore  the  closest  resem- 
blance to  the  choral  parts  of  the  Attic  tragedy.  Since,  then, 
he  was  in  style  the  poet  of  the  Greek  nation,  and  since,  in 
time  and  in  the  circumstances  of  his  education,  as  well  as  in 
tiis  literary  relations,  he  was  connected  with  Athenian  cul- 
ture, and  may  be  regarded  as  the  most  brilliant  phenomenor 


PINDAB.  189 

that  heralded  in  the  Attic  age,  I  have  decided  to  give  a  brief 
account  of  him  and  his  works,  as  an  introduction  to  the  Attic 
drama. 

Pindar  was  a  native  of  Boeotia,  bom  in  Thebes,  or,  accord- 
ing to  others,  in  a  small  town  called  Cynocephalae,  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Thebes,  in  522  or  518  B.  C.  His  family  was 
one  of  the  oldest  in  Thebes,  claiming  descent  from  Cadmus. 
For  several  generations  they  had  shown  a  special  talent  for 
music  and  poetry,  and  had  become  noted  as  able  performers 
at  the  poetical  and  musical  festivals.  The  profession  of  the 
lyric  poet,  to  which  hereditary  taste  and  personal  inclination 
destined  Pindar  from  his  childhood,  required  a  very  elaborate 
training,  not  only  in  the  details  of  poetical  composition  and  the 
science  of  metre  and  rhythm,  but  in  orchestric  dancing,  or  the 
poetry  of  motion,  and  in  the  whole  art  of  vocal  and  instrumental 
music.  Not  only  this,  but  a  familiar  acquaintance  with  the 
works  of  the  great  poets,  and  with  the  entire  circle  of  mythi- 
cal, traditional,  and  historical  lore,  was  to  be  studiously  ac- 
quired. It  was  for  this  reason  that  the  father  of  Pindar  sent 
him  to  Athens,  already  fast  becoming  the  chief  school  and 
centre  of  literature.  From  the  instruction  of  Lasus  and  his 
other  masters  there,  he  passed  to  the  tuition  of  his  famous 
countrywomen,  Myrtis  and  Corinna,  under  whom,  especially 
the  latter,  he  appears  to  have  finished  his  poetical  education. 

The  earliest  of  his  extant  poems  was  written  at  the  age  of 
twenty.  His  brilliant  genius  soon  made  him  known  all  over 
Greece.  He  was  held  in  equal  honor  at  the  courts  of  princes 
and  in  the  capitals  of  republican  states.  He  was  invited  to 
Syracuse  by  Hieron,  where  he  remained  about  four  years,  the 
brightest  ornament  of  poetical  society.  The  Rhodians  deposit- 
ed in  the  temple  of  the  Lindian  Athene  his  seventh  Olympian 
ode,  written  in  golden  letters,  —  a  very  beautiful  composi- 
tion, in  honor  of  Diagoras,  one  of  their  countrymen.  Though 
his  usual  residence  was  at  Thebes,  yet,  like  other  poets  of  hi? 
time,  he  made  frequent  journeys  to  i  isit  the  cities  and  men 
that  vied  with  one  another  for  his  friendship,  and  to  be  present 


190  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

at  the  panegyrical  assemblies  and  festive  celebrations  which 
his  verse  commemorated  and  adorned.  His  character  was 
deeply  tinctured  with  a  reverential  feeling  towards  the  ob- 
jects of  religious  worship,  and  he  was  a  rigid  observer  of  the 
forms  of  ancient  piety.  He  dedicated  a  shrine  or  chapel  —  a 
firjrpmov  —  to  the  mother  of  the  gods,  near  his  own  house ;  a 
statue  to  Zeus  Ammon  in  Libya ;  another  to  Hermes  in  the 
Agora  at  Thebes.  He  made  frequent  pilgrimages  to  the 
temple  of  Apollo  at  Delphi,  where  Pausanias  saw  the  iron  chair 
on  which  he  sat  while  chanting  the  hymns  he  had  composed  in 
honor  of  the  gods.  He  died  at  or  near  the  age  of  eighty.  The 
prime  of  his  life  coincides  with  the  great  events  of  the  Persian 
wars.  The  battles  of  Marathon  and  Salamis,  in  which  his 
contemporary  ./Eschylus  fought  with  distinguished  bravery, 
passed  with  their  great  issues  before  his  eyes.  But  in  common 
with  his  countrymen,  and  perhaps,  like  Goethe,  controlled  by 
love  for  the  tranquil  pursuits  of  art,  he  took  no  personal  part 
in  those  high  feats  of  patriotic  valor.'  He  seems  to  have  suf- 
fered to  some  extent  the  common  lot  of  distinguished  excel- 
lence, from  the  envy  of  rivals ;  but  we  know  little  of  these 
personalities,  except  from  a  few  scornful  allusions  in  his  odes : 
and  whatever  they  were,  they  failed  to  obscure  in  the  least 
the  brightness  of  his  fame,  after  Death,  the  all-reconciler,  had 
set  his  seal  upon  it.  The  enthusiastic  admiration  of  Greece 
for  him  increased  as  the  glory  of  Thebes  gradually  vanished 
into  the  mists  of  the  past.  When  Alexander  the  Great  took 
Thebes,  and  razed  it  to  the  ground,  he  gave  strict  orders  to  his 
soldiers  that  no  damage  should  be  done  to  the  house  where 
Pindar  had  lived  and  died,  —  an  incident  beautifully  alluded  to 
Dy  Milton  in  one  of  his  sonnets :  — 

"  Lift  not  thy  spear  against  the  Muses'  bower ; 
The  great  Emathian  conqueror  bid  spare 
The  house  of  Pindarus,  when  temple  and  tower 
Went  to  the  ground." 

Pindar  was  not  only  one  of  the  greatest,  but  also  one  of  th* 
most  copious,  writers  of  ancient  times ;  his  works  —  the  pro- 


PINDAR.  191 

duct  of  a  long,  peaceful,  and  prosperous  life  exclusively  occu- 
pied with  religious,  social,  and  poetical  duties  —  embracing 
compositions  in  all  the  forms  that  were  current  in  his  day.  The 
only  pieces,  however,  which  have  come  down  to  us  entire  are 
four  series  of  Epinician,  or  triumphal  odes,  celebrating  victo- 
ries gained  at  the  four  great  national  games, — the  Olympian, 
Pythian,  Nemean,  and  Isthmian, — in  the  races,  athletic  exer- 
cises, and  musical  contests,  held  on  those  great  panegyrical  oc- 
casions. These  Panegyreis,  or  general  meetings,  are  a  striking 
and  characteristic  feature  of  the  social,  political,  and  literary 
history  of  the  Greeks.  The  peculiar  style  of  the  Pindaric  ode 
can  hardly  be  illustrated,  without  touching  on  some  of  the 
main  points  of  this  subject. 

From  before  the  Homeric  age  —  as  we  see  in  passages  of 
the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  —  down  to  the  later  literary  epochs, 
feats  of  bodily  strength  enjoyed  an  exaggerated  favor,  which 
was  noticed  and  complained  of  by  the  deeper-thinking  and 
more  philosophical  minds  among  the  Attic  writers.  These 
were  at  first  exclusively  the  objects  of  the  games,  and  always 
the  leading  objects,  though  at  later  periods  contests  involving 
quickness  of  hand  and  eye  were  introduced,  then  horse  and 
chariot  races,  and,  finally,  music,  poetry,  and  eloquence  gave 
a  more  intellectual  cast  to  these  oft-recurring  holidays.  The 
Olympian  and  Pythian  games  were  celebrated  at  intervals  of 
four  years,  and  the  Nemean  and  Isthmian,  at  intervals  of  two. 
The  month  in  which  they  were  held  was  sacred.  Heralds 
proclaimed  peace,  or  at  least  an  armistice,  throughout  the 
Hellenic  world.  It  was  like  the  "  God's-peace  "  of  the  Church 
in  the  Middle  Ages.  States  sent  deputations,  splendidly 
equipped,  consisting  of  their  most  illustrious  citizens,  to  repre- 
sent them.  Safe-conduct  was  granted  through  every  territory 
to  all  who  were  travelling  to  the  sacred  spot.  Private  citizens 
who  possessed  any  talent  for  anything  sought  to  distinguish 
themselves  there.  Athletes  put  themselves,  and  jockeys  their 
horses,  in  training.  The  poet  Durnished  up  his  last  ode  or 
epic ;  the  philosopher  rounded  anew  the  periods  of  his  latest 


L92  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

discourse  on  the  nature  of  things ;  the  artist  gave  the  finishing 
touch  of  the  pencil  or  the  chisel.  Kings  and  high-born  cava- 
liers put  their  four-horse  chariots  in  first-rate  order.  Mer- 
chants and  pedlers  packed  up  their  wares.  In  short,  there 
was  a  universal  hubbub  and  commotion.  The  roads  that  led  to 
the  scene  of  festivity  and  strenuous  rivalry  were  crowded  with 
multitudes  on  foot,  on  horseback,  and  in  carriages ;  and  all  was 
life,  confusion,  jollity,  and  joy. 

The  scenes  that  broke  upon  the  view,  as  one  came  in  sight 
of  the  great  world-fair,  were  well  suited  to  keep  up  the  excite- 
ment at  fever-heat ;  —  magnificent  temples  crowded  with  wor- 
shippers ;  statues  of  the  gods,  like  the  Olympian  Zeus  by  Phei- 
dias  ;  sacred  groves,  filled  with  the  marble  forms  of  heroes, 
statesmen,  poets,  kings,  and  victors  ;  ranges  of  tents,  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach  ;  motley  multitudes  from  every  tribe  and  na- 
tion ;  the  hum  of  voices  innumerable,  uttering  the  nimble  elo- 
quence of  the  Greek  tongue,  —  here  a  philosopher,  like  Gorgias, 
holding  forth  to  a  group  of  wondering  disciples,  —  there,  a  fa- 
mous poet  or  historian,  with  the  glistening  eyes  of  a  ring  of 
hearers  fixed  upon  him,  —  yonder,  a  bad  poet,  grasping  by  the 
edge  of  his  himation  the  hapless  victim  who  wishes  him  and 
his  Pindarics  the  other  side  of  the  Styx.  By  and  by  the  Hel- 
lenodicae  —  the  judges  of  the  games  —  take  their  stand,  and 
silence  steals  over  the  countless  multitude.  The  chariots  are 
brought  to  the  lists ;  the  combatants  mount ;  the  trumpet-sig- 
nal is  given,  and  off*  they  start.  The  trampling  horses,  the 
thundering  wheels,  the  rising  dust,  a  car  overturned  and  broken 
to  pieces,  and  the  charioteer  slain,  fill  up  a  few  breathless  mo- 
ments ;  and  then  Theron  of  Agrigentum  is  proclaimed  by  the 
loud-voiced  herald  victor  in  the  chariot-race.  The  welkin 
rings  with  the  shouts  of  the  frantic  multitude.  A  procession 
is  formed  to  bear  the  happy  victor  to  the  altar  or  temple,  with 
music  and  song,  that  he  may  thank  the  gods  who  have  crowned 
him  with  so  much  glory.  Then  the  congratulating  friends 
crowd  to  the  Kwfio<i,  —  the  grand  revel.  Homeward  hies  the 
victor,  feeling  like   a  god.       Arrived  at  his  native  city,  his 


PINDAR.  193 

exulting  countrymen  rush  out  to  meet  him.  They  cannot  re- 
ceive him  in  so  commonplace  a  way  as  through  the  city  gate. 
They  pull  down  a  furlong  or  so  of  the  wall  which  has  stood 
the  brunt  of  a  hundred  sieges,  and  drag  in  through  the  breach 
the  chariot  that  bears  their  parsley-crowned  townsman.  An- 
other procession,  another  returning  of  thanks  to  the  gods,  an- 
other grand  carouse.  Meantime  a  messenger  is  despatched  to 
Thebes,  with  Theron's  compliments  and  a  handsome  present  to 
Pindar,  "  flower  of  the  Muses,"  requesting,  at  his  earliest  con- 
venience, an  Epinician  ode.  The  ode  is  speedily  forthcoming, 
written,  it  may  be,  a  month  before,  with  blanks  for  the  names. 
A  grand  chorus  is  put  in  training ;  a  celebration  is  held  with 
the  whole  musical  force  of  the  royal  band ;  and  it  is  annually 
repeated,  until  some  fresher  immortality  drives  it  out  and  takes 
its  place. 

Horse-racing,  boxing,  and  wrestling,  after  all,  are  not  m 
themselves  highly  poetical  subjects.  The  pomp  and  splendor 
of  the  scenes,  the  interest  taken  in  them  by  states,  and  the 
extravagant  delight  of  the  people,  surrounded  them,  in  ancient 
Greece,  with  associations  of  renown  which  furnish  the  point 
of  view  for  the  proper  appreciation  of  the  Pindaric  ode.  It  was 
a  great  piece  of  good  fortune  to  the  poet  when  the  victor,  as 
was  generally  the  case,  happened  to  be  descended  from  the  gods 
by  the  male  or  female  line ;  for  this  opened  the  whole  brilliant 
circle  of  mythical  tradition  as  suggesting  collateral  or  illustra- 
tive topics.  Perhaps  the  native  city  of  the  victor  was  founded 
by  Athene  or  Poseidon  ;  and  then  these  deities  are  sung.  Or 
if  he  is  descended  from  a  long  line  of  illustrious  ancestors,  then 
their  deeds  are  marshalled  forth  to  cast  their  glory  upon  the 
more  illustrious  scion  of  the  ancient  stock.  Perhaps  the  victor 
himself  ha*?  founded  a  city,  or  gained  a  battle,  or  gladdened 
the  hearts  of  guests  by  princely  hospitality ;  and  then  the  Muse 
utters  her  blessings  upon  his  gracious  head,  predicts  eternal 
fame  to  the  new-built  city,  or  endless  songs  and  carousals 
around  the  festive  board. 

These  brief  hints  will  serve  to  suggest  the  general  character 

VOL     1.  13 


194  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

of  the  Epinician  ode,  its  style,  and  the  nature  of  its  topics 
Pindar  was  formerly  considered  the  most  irregular  of  the  poets. 
His  episodes  were  thought  to  be  disconnected,  and  his  transitions 
violent.  It  was  settled  that,  while  the  Pindaric  ode  contained 
passages  of  high  and  daring  imagination,  and  single  figures  that 
flashed  like  diamonds,  yet,  taken  as  a  whole,  it  was  an  inco- 
herent, unintelligible  accumulation  of  lofty-sounding  phrases, 
inexplicable  allusions,  and  immeasurable  measures.  This  is 
not  true.  The  Pindaric  ode  is  as  artistical  in  its  structure  as 
a  Greek  tragedy.  The  skill  shown  in  the  selection  and  adap- 
tation of  materials,  illustrations,  and  rhythms  is  the  result  of 
the  most  profound  study.  But  it  is  true  that  Pindar's  works 
are  made  difficult  to  us  by  several  quite  intelligible  causes. 
The  condensed  and  quaint  style  of  the  Doric  dialect ;  the  wide 
sweep  of  his  allusions,  requiring  a  minute  study  of  mythology 
and  history  in  its  obscurer  portions ;  the  complicated  rhythmi- 
cal and  musical  character  of  the  compositions  themselves,  never 
to  be  completely  appreciated  after  the  entire  loss  of  the  notes  to 
which  they  were  sung,  —  all  these  surround  the  study  of  Pin- 
dar with  difficulties  not  easily  overcome.  And  after  all,  owing 
to  the  nature  of  his  subjects,  and  the  peculiar  notions  of  the 
Greeks  upon  them,  —  subjects  and  a  state  of  things  whose  in- 
terest has  completely  passed  away,  —  there  is  less  in  Pindar 
than  in  any  other  great  poet  of  Greece  which  addresses  itself 
to  the  common  heart  of  man.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  epic 
matter  on  which  he  freely  draws ;  but  he  always  makes  it  sub- 
ordinate to  the  lyrical  spirit.  He  has  many  brilliant  narratives, 
but,  unlike  the  composure  of  the  Homeric  stories,  they  move 
on  with  a  passionate  and  headlong  tread.  He  often  embodies, 
in  lines  of  wonderful  terseness,  the  loftiest  moral  truths ;  and 
his  descriptive  passages  present  in  a  few  graphic  touches  very 
fine  pictures  of  the  places,  persons,  or  objects  described.  One 
or  two  brief  extracts  are  all  that  the  time  will  allow  ;  and  these, 
it  will  be  readily  conceived,  give  but  a  very  fragmentary 
idea  of  a  Pindaric  poem,  as  it  appeared  to  the  contemporary 
world. 


PINDAR.  196 

FUTURE   PUNISHMENT  AND   REWABD. 

"  O'er  the  good,  soft  suns  the  while, 

Through  the  mild  day,  the  night  serene, 
Alike  with  cloudless  lustre  smile, 

Tempering  all  the  tranquil  scene. 
Theirs  is  leisure ;  vex  not  they 
Stubborn  soil,  or  watery  way, 
To  wring  from  toil  want's  worthless  bread ; 
No  ills  they  know,  no  tears  they  shed, 
But  with  the  glorious  gods  below 

Ages  of  peace  contented  share. 
Meanwhile  the  bad,  with  bitterest  woe, 

Eye-startling  tasks  and  endless  tortures  bear. 
All  whose  steadfast  virtue  thrice 

Each  side  the  grave  unchanged  hath  stood, 
Still  unseduced,  unstained  with  vice,  — 

They  by  Zeus'  mysterious  road 
Pass  to  Chronos'  realm  of  rest, 
Happy  isle  that  holds  the  blest> 
Where  sea-born  breezes  gently  blow 
O'er  blooms  of  gold  that  round  them  glow, 
Which  Nature  —  boon  from  sea  or  strand 

Or  goodly  tree  —  profusely  showers ; 
Whence  pluck  they  many  a  fragrant  band, 
And  braid  their  locks  with  never-fading  flowers." 

TO  THE  SUN  UNDER  AN  ECLIPSE. 

«  Beam  of  the  sun,  Heaven-watcher,  thou  whose  glance 

Lights  far  and  wide,  unveil  to  me,  unveil 

Thy  brow,  that  once  again  my  eye  may  hail 
The  lustre  of  thy  cloudless  countenance. 
Surpassing  star !     Why  thus,  at  noon  of  day 

Withdrawing,  wouldst  thou  mar 

Man's  stalwart  strength,  and  bar 
With  dark  obstruction  wisdom's  winding  way  ? 

Lo !  on  thy  chariot-track 

Hangs  midnight,  pitchy  black ; 
While  thou,  from  out  thine  ancient  path  afar 

Hurriest  thy  uelated  lar. 
Bnt  thee  by  mightiest  Zeus  do  I  implore, 

O'er  Thebes  thy  fleet  steeds'  flight 


196  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  P0E1RY. 

To  rein,  with  presage  bright 
Of  plenteousness  and  peace  forevermore. 
Fountain  of  Light !  0  venerated  Power ! 
To  all  of  earthly  line 
A  wonder  and  a  sign, 
What  terror  threatenest  thou  at  this  dread  hoar  * 
Doom  of  battle  dost  thou  bring  ; 
Or  cankerous  blight,  fruit-withering ; 
Or  crushing  snow-showers'  giant  weight ; 
Or  factions,  shatterers  of  the  state ; 

Or  breaching  seas,  poured  o'er  the  plain ; 
Or  frost  that  fettereth  land  and  spring ; 
Or  summer  dank,  whose  drenching  wing 

Drops  heavily  with  rain  t 
Such  fate,  portendeth  such,  thy  gloomy  brow  ? 

Or  deluging  beneath  the  imprisoned  deep 
This  earth  once  more,  man's  infant  race  wilt  thou 
Afresh  from  off  the  face  of  Nature  sweep  1 "  f 

From  this  time  forward,  Athens  concentrates  upon  herself 
the  chief  literary  interest,  — 

"  Athens,  the  eye  of  Greece,  mother  of  arts 
And  eloquence,  native  to  famous  wits." 

The  germ  of  the  city,  in  the  old  Pelasgian  times,  was  a 
stronghold,  built  on  the  summit  of  a  rock.  In  the  early  Hel- 
lenic times,  it  became,  under  the  semi-mythical  Theseus,  the 
head  of  twelve  confederated  communities.  The  Homeric  king, 
Menestheus,  had  his  "  well-built  palace "  there.  After  the 
Trojan  war,  the  Attic  commonwealth  underwent  many  politi- 
cal changes.  Kings  were  succeeded  by  Archons  for  life,  then 
for  ten  years,  then  for  a  year.  Then  came  the  essay  at  a  leg- 
islative revolution  by  Draco ;  next,  the  triumph  of  wisdom  and 
common  sense  in  the  legislation  of  Solon ;  then,  the  usurpation 
fcr  half  a  century,  by  Peisistratus  and  his  sons  ;  and  finally,  the 
infusion  of  a  larger  popular  element  into  the  government  bv 
Cleisthenes,  and  the  rapid  rise  of  Ionian-Attic  genius  to  pros- 
perity, power,  and  culture,  under  the  favoring  auspices  of  politi- 
cal freedom.    Then  occurred  the  Persian  invasion ;  and  from  the 


THE   GREEK   DRAMA.  197 

imitations  of  that  fierce  struggle  Athens  gained  her  leadership 
among  the  Grecian  states,  and  from  the  ashes  of  the  war-swept 
city  rose  in  statelier  splendor  her  battlements,  altars,  temples, 
statues,  and  shrines.  Poetry,  plastic  art,  political  eloquence, 
took  a  fresh  start  in  the  plays  of  JEschylus  and  Sophocles, — in 
the  Athene  Promachos,  the  Olympian  Zeus,  the  friezes  of  tue 
Parthenon,  by  Pheidias,  —  in  the  great  orations  of  Pericles. 
The  Attic  dialect,  founded  on  the  old  Ionic,  had  gained  in 
strength  and  terseness  by  the  habit  of  political  and  forensic  dis- 
cussion, while  it  still  retained  its  flexibility  of  phrase  and  con- 
struction. It  had  become  the  dialect  of  business-men  as  well 
as  of  the  lovers  of  the  beautiful,  and  the  style  of  poetical  com- 
position shared  in  the  general  influences  under  which  the  lan- 
guage had  been  modified. 

During  the  period  from  the  sixth  to  the  third  century  be- 
fore Christ  —  the  Attic  age  —  the  characteristic  species  of  po- 
etry at  Athens  was  the  dramatic,  in  its  four  forms  of  tragedy, 
comedy,  satyric  drama,  and  tragicomedy;  and  the  elegant 
literature  of  the  world  is  indebted  to  the  great  writers  of  that 
age  for  the  establishment  of  the  laws  of  dramatic  composition, 
and  for  the  most  exquisite  and  masterly  productions  in  that 
department  of  art.  In  the  representation  of  the  Homeric 
poems  —  so  dramatic  —  at  the  great  Panathenaic  festival,  and 
in  the  mimetic  delivery  of  elegiac  and  lyric  poetry,  especially  of 
the  dithyramb,  which  was  a  peculiar  combination  of  lyric  ele- 
ments with  a  tragic  story  taken  from  the  legends  of  Dionysos 
In  whose  honor  it  was  composed,  the  Athenians  already  had 
some  of  the  forms  and  ideas  of  dramatic  poetry ;  and  even  the 
terms  tragedy  and  comedy  were  in  familiar  use  at  Corinth, 
Argos,  Sicyon,  and  Megara,  long  before  the  proper  tragedy 
and  comedy  came  into  existence  at  Athens.  The  first  step 
taken  in  the  direction  of  the  drama  proper  was  to  diversify 
the  choral  representation  by  the  introduction  of  a  narrative, 
delivered  in  the  style  of  the  old  epic  recital ;  the  next  was 
the  introduction  of  a  second  performer  to  sustain  the  part  of 
respondent  to  the  first.     The  former  step  was  taken  by  Th?s- 


198  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

pis,  a  strolling  player,  who  stands  as  the  representative  of  the 
rudest  form  of  the  drama ;  and  the  latter  by  JSschylus,  all  of 
whose  earlier  plays  were  acted  by  the  dithyrambic  chorus  and 
two  players.  A  third  actor  was  added  by  Sophocles ;  and  here 
the  external  form  of  the  dramatic  representation  reached  its 
completion.  Comedy  had  a  similar  origin  in  the  jocose  festi- 
vals of  the  same  deity,  and  advanced  nearly  by  the  same  stages, 
and  at  the  same  time,  with  tragedy.  The  one  presents  the 
dark  side  of  the  great  world-drama  that  passes  every  moment 
before  us ;  the  other  reverses  the  picture,  and  gives  us  the  hu- 
mor, the  jest,  the  satire,  and  the  laughter.  We  see  the  influ- 
ence of  those  old  Greek  masters  in  the  classical  compositions 
of  Corneille  and  Racine,  of  Alfieri,  of  Ferreira,  and  of  Goethe 
in  his  Iphigeneia ;  in  the  JEschylus-like  simplicity  and  grand- 
eur of  the  Samson  Agonistes  of  Milton ;  in  the  sweet,  sad 
strain  of  that  most  beautiful  echo  of  the  classical  spirit,  —  the 
Ion  of  Sir  Thomas  Noon  Talfourd. 

The  old  dithyrambic  exhibition  was  held  in  some  open  place, 
the  movements  being  made  round  the  altar  of  the  god.  The 
earliest  dramatic  shows,  like  the  pieces  of  Rueda  in  Spain,  re- 
quired a  temporary  stage  and  ranges  of  seats  for  the  spectators. 
At  length  the  exigencies  of  a  rapidly  perfecting  art  demanded 
a  permanent  structure  ;  and  th ;  great  Dionysiac  theatre  was 
built  under  the  Acropolis,  large  enough  to  seat  all  the  free  in- 
habitants of  the  city,  and  with  a  lavish  outlay  of  architectural, 
sculptural,  and  scenic  decoration,  in  keeping  with  the  general 
magnificence  of  public  architecture  in  the  age  of  its  building. 

Dramatic  representation  at  Athens  was  always  under  the 
charge  of  the  chief  magistrate,  and  constituted  a  part  of  the 
religious  worship.  The  festivals  to  which  it  especially  belonged 
were  the  two  Dionysiac  celebrations  held  in  the  spring.  The 
chief  one  lasted  eight  days,  at  the  most  beautiful  season,  when 
the  capital  was  crowded  with  deputies  from  subject  states,  and 
with  visitors  from  every  part  of  the  civilized  world.  The  pieces 
were  always  offered  in  competition  for  the  dramatic  prize,  the 
rivalry  lying  between  the  tribes  to  which  the  poets  respectivelj 


THE   GREEK  DRAMA.  199 

belonged.  They  were  submitted  in  the  first  instance  to  the 
archon,  and,  if  approved  by  him,  three  actors  and  a  chorus 
were  assigned  to  the  poet,  who  was  required  to  train  them,  not 
only  in  the  dramatic  parts  and  the  choral  movements,  but  in 
the  music,  and  sometimes  to  play  himself.  A  board  of  judges 
was  appointed  by  the  archon,  whose  duty  it  was  to  sit  through 
the  whole,  and  then  award  the  prize.  As  the  performances 
commenced  at  daylight,  and  lasted  with  little  intermission  all 
day  long  for  several  days  together,  the  office  of  theatrical  judge 
was  far  from  being  a  sinecure.  The  contest  being  decided,  a 
record  was  inscribed  on  a  choragic  monument,  containing  the 
name  of  the  archon  of  the  year,  the  tribe,  the  choragus,  and 
the  poet;  and  a  celebration  was  held  at  the  house  of  some 
friend  of  the  victor,  similar  to  that  I  described  in  speaking  of 
the  Olympian  games.  These  monuments,  surmounted  ea^h 
by  a  votive  tripod,  lined  the  street  that  led  to  the  theatre  round 
the  corner  of  the  Acropolis  ;  and  from  the  inscriptions  on  them 
later  writers  compiled  the  annals  of  the  stage. 

The  theatre  was  built  in  the  side  of  the  Acropolis.  Its  size 
was  enormous.  It  was  open  to  the  sky,  so  that,  if  a  violent 
storm  came  up,  the  performances  were  interrupted  until  it  had 
passed.  The  whole  structure  consisted  of  three  main  divis- 
ions,—  the  aKrjvri,  or  stage,  the  orchestra,  and  the  dearpov,  or 
place  for  spectators.  Behind  the  stage  stood  permanent  archi- 
tectural fronts  representing  palaces.  Three  entrances  led  upon 
the  stage ;  through  the  central  one  the  actor  of  the  principal 
part  made  his  appearance.  The  orchestra,  as  the  name  im- 
ports, was  the  place  assigned  to  the  choir,  where  the  lyrical 
parts  were  sung,  and  the  elaborate  dances,  like  those  in  the 
lyrical  representations,  were  performed.  The  semicircular 
seats  were  occupied  by  the  spectators,  generally,  it  would  ap- 
pear, arranged  according  to  tribes.  Seats  were  reserved  for 
magistrates  and  official  personages,  and  some  of  the  front  seats 
were  assigned  to  foreign  ministers,  and  other  distinguished 
strangers  who  were  invited  by  decree  of  the  senate  to  be  pres- 
ent.     They  had  a  great  variety  of  stage-machinery  for  the 


200  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

change  of  scenes,  which  was  accomplished  partly  by  structures 
turning  on  a  pivot  and  suddenly  presenting  the  interior  of  a 
room,  partly  by  painted  scenery,  which  was  changed  during 
the  singing  of  the  choral  songs.  They  had  machines  for  mak- 
ing thunder,  and  for  letting  gods  and  other  supernatural  persons 
down  upon  the  stage  ;  also,  a  stairway,  called  the  Charonian 
steps,  from  beneath,  for  infernal  deities  and  ghosts  to  come  up, 
very  much  like  the  passage  by  which  the  Lowell  lecturer  as- 
cends from  the  lower  regions. 

The  principles  of  Greek  art  required  that  the  player  should 
represent  his  character,  not  only  in  language,  sentiment,  and 
act,  but  in  outward  appearance.  A  small  and  puny  player 
could  not  personate  Achilles  ;  a  man  with  a  pug  nose  could  not 
play  Apollo.  But  as  nature  does  riot  always  accommodate  the 
men  best  fitted  intellectually  with  the  corresponding  outward 
face  and  figure,  the  Greek  players  supplied  the  deficiency  by 
arraying  themselves  in  stately  costumes ;  heightened  their  fig- 
ures by  wearing  high-soled  boots  or  cothurni,  expanded  them- 
selves by  padding  their  persons,  and  put  on  masks  elaborately 
carved  to  mimic  the  character  or  passion  intended  to  be  rep- 
resented. The  making  of  these  masks  for  the  tragic  and  comic 
poets  became  an  important  branch  of  plastic  art.  Innumer- 
able representations  of  them  and  of  costumes  are  preserved  in 
the  pictures  of  ancient  vases  and  other  works  of  art,  published 
by  Gerhard,  Panofka,  and  Wieseler.  Julius  Pollux  enumer- 
ates about  thirty  masks,  representing  general  characters,  accord- 
ing to  age,  sex,  rank,  disposition,  and  aspect ;  as,  for  instance, 
the  shaven  man,  the  pale  man.  The  chief  hero  was  generally 
in  the  vigor  of  life,  with  black,  curly  hair  and  beard ;  and  this 
mask  was  called  the  black  man.  The  hero  of  the  second  class 
was  generally  blond,  with  yellow  hair  and  waving  locks ;  and 
this  mask  was  the  yellow  man.  A  gay  young  fellow,  ready  for 
anything,  was  beardless,  brown-complexioned,  with  luxuriant 
hair ;  and  this  mask  was  termed  the  Trdy^pva-ro^,  or  up-to-any- 
thing.  Another  was  the  fiery  fellow,  with  crisp  hair  and  raised 
eyebrows.       Then  there  was  the  tender  gentleman,  with  deli 


THE  GREEK  DRAMA.  201 

cate  pink  color,  blond  hair,  and  a  soft  smile.  The  irivapol  were 
the  dirty  fellows ;  the  melancholy  gentlemen  were  o)%pot,  pale- 
complexioned,  with  sunken  cheeks,  and  long,  straight  hair.  Of 
female  masks  there  were  the  sad  lady,  the  sharer  in  the  misfor- 
tunes of  the  prince,  the  middle-aged  lady,  the  newly  married, 
the  marriageable  maiden,  the  despairing  maiden,  with  distracted 
eyeballs  and  dishevelled  hair.  These  are  only  specimens  se- 
lected from  the  Onomasticon  of  Julius  Pollux,  to  give  a  general 
idea  of  the  study  expended  by  the  Athenian  dramatists  upon 
the  scenic  part  of  the  representation. 

A  large  part  of  the  action  of  a  Greek  tragedy  took  place 
behind  the  scenes,  and  was  narrated  at  proper  intervals  by  the 
actors.  This  was  owing  to  several  causes,  —  to  the  original 
simplicity  of  the  plot,  to  the  Greek  ideas  of  dramatic  decorum, 
and  to  the  practicaLjlifficulty  the  player  would  have  found  in 
performing  any  very  violent  feats,  stilted,  padded,  and  masked. 
His  action  must  have  been  limited  to  a  somewhat  stiff  and 
stately  tread  across  the  stage,  solemn  and  declamatory  .recital, 
and  an  exaggerated  style  of  gesticulation.  The  by-play  of  ex- 
pression, and  the  features  changing  according  to  the  moods  of 
the  passion,  found  no  place  in  the  representation,  except  by  the 
change  of  mask  and  costume  in  the  great  crises  of  the  principal 
characters.  Thus  CEdipus,  for  example,  at  the  opening  of  the 
play,  appears  surrounded  by  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of 
royal  power;  at  the  close,  his  glory  has  departed,  —  he  is  a 
blind  and  wretched  outcast,  the  victim  of  his  own  rash  conduct, 
and  of  an  overruling  destiny  that  visits  "the  iniquity  of  the  fa- 
thers upon  the  children,  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation." 

Many  of  the  Greek  plays  were  first  brought  out  in  three 
connected  pieces,  called  a  trilogy,  and  the  series  was  closed  by 
a  fourth,  —  a  farce  called  a  satyric  drama,  from  a  chorus  of 
Satyrs.  It  would  appear  that  sometimes  the  fourth  piece  was 
a  tragicomedy,  like  the  Alcestis  of  Euripides.  The  trilogical 
form  appears  to  have  been  an  enlargement  of  the  original 
tragic  outline,  when  the  subject,  like  that  of  the  woes  of  the 
house  of  Agamemnon,  running  on  from  generation  to  genei- 


V 


202  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

ation,  could  not  be  brought  within  the  limits  of  a  single  plot, 
and  naturally  divided  itself  into  the  opening,  middle,  and  con- 
clusion ;  each,  however,  being  by  itself  a  tragic  whole,  while 
it  formed  only  a  part  of  the  grander  scheme  that  compre- 
hended and  embodied  the  poet's  entire  conception.  We  have 
only  one  entire  trilogy,  the  Oresteia  of  ^schylus  ;  but  many 
of  the  now  extant  plays  belonged  originally  to  trilogies,  the 
other  parts  of  which  are  lost.  This  form,  however,  was  not 
universal.  Sophocles,  in  particular,  was  accustomed  to  offer 
single  plays  ;  and  indeed  this  must  have  been  often  done,  or 
many  of  the  best  subjects  would  have  been  entirely  excluded. 

The  expenditures  for  these  costly  entertainments  were  de- 
frayed partly  by  the  treasury,  from  a  fund  called  the  Theori- 
ion,  or  show-fund,  and  partly  by  the  wealthier  members 
of  the  several  tribes,  on  whom  the  duty  was  laid,  in  a  pre- 
scribed order,  as  one  of  the  burdensome  offices  due  to  the  state, 
ranking  with  the  Trierarchy,  or  furnishing  the  fleet,  and  other 
expensive  requisitions,  all  of  which  were  regulated  by  law,  and 
vere  known  under  the  general  name  of  liturgies.  At  first  the 
admission  fee  was  fixed  at  a  drachma,  or  eighteen  cents ;  then 
it  was  reduced  to  two  obols,  or  about  six  cents;  and  the  fee 
was  allowed  from  the  treasury  to  any  citizen  who  desired  it. 
The  salaries  of  the  actors  also  were  paid  by  the  state. 

The  technical  divisions  of  a  tragedy  are  the  prologos,  or  the 
speeches  and  dialogues,  which  are  delivered 'on  the  stage  be- 
fore the  first  appearance  of  the  chorus  ;  the"  parodos,  or  ana- 
paestic song  delivered  by  the  chorus  as  they  enter,  and  pass 
round  the  ihymele,  or  altar,  to  their  position  in  the  centre  of  the 
orchestra ;  the  episodes,  or  dialogues  between  the  choral  songs ; 
the  stasima,  or  choral  songs  chanted  in  the  course  of  the  ac- 
tion, in  varying  rhythms,  and  with  music  artfully  adapted  to 
the  feelings  intended  to  be  expressed ;  and  the  exodos,  or  the 
part  which  follows  the  last  stasimon,  and  closes  the  play 
The  divisions  made  by  the  choral  songs  correspond  somewha 
to  the  acts  of  the  Roman  and  the  modern  drama. 

The  chorus,  in  the  Attic  drama,  has  been  a  stumbling-block 


THE   GREEK  DRAMA  203 

to  many.  I  do  not  see  why  it  is  any  more  unnatural  than  the 
music  between  the  acts  of  a  modern  play.  It  is  only  fair,  in 
judging  of  its  propriety,  to  place  ourselves  in  the  Greek  point 
of  view.  The  chorus  was  the  form  of  entertainment  out  of 
which  the  drama  sprang,  or  rather  on  which  it  was  engrafted ; 
and  though  the  acted  dialogue  rapidly  became  the  most  im- 
portant element,  still  the  choral  songs  continued  to  have  a  vital 
connection  with  the  action,  and  to  form  a  very  essential  part  of 
the  piece.  The  chorus  is  most  prominent  in  jEschylus ;  in 
Sophocles,  subordinate ;  in  Euripides,  more  nearly  independent , 
but  in  all,  indispensable.  Schlegel's  idea,  that  the  chorus  was 
intended  to  represent  the  idealized  spectator,  is  too  narrow 
and  theoretical.  Sometimes  it  does  this,  by  embodying  relig- 
ious feelings  and  ethical  ideas  naturally  growing  out  of  the 
action,  and  therefore  naturally  springing  up  in  the  heart  of  the 
spectator.  At  other  times,  as  in  the  opening  of  the  Agamem- 
non, it  draws  into  the  circle  of  the  piece,  and  presents  or  re- 
calls to  the  audience,  incidents  remotely  connected  with  the 
catastrophe,  and  far-off  springs  of  action,  which  have  in  reality, 
though  not  apparently,  set  in  motion  the  events  of  the  drama. 
This  subtile  employment  of  the  chorus  was  a  convenient  re- 
source for  the  poet,  on  account  of  the  narrow  limits  within 
which  the  proper  dramatic  action  was  required  to  move. 
Moreover,  the  chorus  was  sometimes  arranged  so  as  to  present 
a  picturesque  group  to  the  eye,  while  the  ear  was  filled  with 
poetry  and  music,  and  thus  to  entertain  the  audience  while  the 
stage  was  preparing  for  new  scenes  and  the  actors  were  chan- 
ging their  masks  and  costumes. 

It  will  be  readily  imagined  that,  under  circumstances  so 
favorable  for  stimulating  talent,  and  with  such  a  public  demand 
each  year  for  new  dramatic  pieces  of  every  kind,  the  produc- 
tiveness of  Athenian  genius  was  immense  during  the  culmi- 
nating period  of  Athenian  culture.  Upon  a  moderate  compu- 
tation, it  has  been  estimated  that  the  number  of  tragedies 
existing  at  its  close,  written  by  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  poets, 
was  more  than  fifteen  hundred,  and  that  of  comedies,  written 


u^ 


204  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

by  about  a  hundred  and  five  poets,  not  far  from  nineteen 
hundred.  Of  all  these,  there  are  preserved  only  seven  of 
^iEschylus,  seven  of  Sophocles,  nineteen  of  Euripides  (namely, 
seventeen  tragedies,  one  tragicomedy,  and  one  satyric  drama), 
aund  eleven  of  Aristophanes. 

The  sources  from  which  the  materials  of  tragedy  were  irawn 
were  wholly  national,  —  the  legends  and  traditions  of  the  myth- 
ical ages,  the  fates  and  fortunes  of  the  great  half-historical 
families  before  the  Trojan  war,  and  those  of  the  heroes  in  the 
Trojan  war  or  their  immediate  descendants.  Recent  events 
were  rarely  dramatized.  Herodotus  relates  that  Phrynichus 
made  the  fall  of  Miletus  the  subject  of  a  tragedy,  which  threw 
the  audience  into  such  convulsions  of  grief  that  they  fined  him 
a  thousand  drachma?,  or  nearly  two  hundred  dollars,  for  having 
exhibited  so  painful  a  picture  of  the  recent  calamities  of  their 
countrymen,  ^schylus,  in  one  of  his  extant  pieces,  drama- 
tized the  overwhelming  defeat  of  the  Persians,  in  which  he  had 
taken  so  large  and  brave  a  part.  Besides  these  sources,  they 
had  a  long  and  many-colored  national  existence  to  look  back 
upon ;  they  had  the  epic  and  elegiac  literature,  embodying  in 
the  most  exquisite  forms  the  genius  of  the  great  poets  who  had 
preceded  them ;  they  had  the  wisdom  of  life  recorded  in  the 
condensed  sayings  of  the  early  sages ;  and  with  all  these,  they 
wrought  into  their  dramatic  compositions,  not  only  the  political 
ideas  under  which  they  lived,  but  the  general  truths  of  moral- 
ity and  religion,  of  personal  accountability,  and  a  judgment 
to  come,  modified,  however,  by  individual  experience  and  be- 
lief, and  by  peculiarities  of  individual  character,  in  a  manner 
singularly  striking  and  impressive,  often  with  a  solemnity  of 
style  hardly  surpassed  by  the  Hebrew  Prophets  and  the  author 
of  the  Book  of  Job. 

Although  the  dramatic  period  has  a  much  longer  extent,  the 
last  recorded  comic  exhibition,  by  Poseidippus,  having  been  in 
250  B.  C,  and  the  last  tragic,  by  Theodectes,  in  334,  yet  the 
greatest  works  belong  to  the  age  which  includes  the  lives  of 
iE^hylus,   Sophocles,   and  Euripides.      ^Eschylus  was  born, 


THE   GREEK  DRAMA.  205 

probably,  in  625  B.  C,  and  died  in  456 ;  Sophocles  was  born 
in  495,  and  died  in  405 ;  Euripides  was  born  in  480,  and  died 
in  406.  Sophocles,  therefore,  survived  Euripides  one  year,  and 
iEschylus  fifty-one  years ;  and  from  the  birth  of  ^schylus  to 
the  death  of  Sophocles  was  a  hundred  and  twenty  years ;  that 
is,  the  flourishing  period  of  Greek  tragedy  was  less  than  a  cen- 
tury, beginning  soon  after  the  close  of  the  Persian  wars,  lasting 
through  the  Athenian  supremacy,  and  continuing,  with  scarcely 
diminished  splendor,  through  the  disastrous  scenes  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  war,  and  then,  shorn  of  its  former  magnificence, 
through  the  Macedonian  supremacy. 

The  public  expenditures  at  Athens,  during  this  age,  on  the 
works  of  art  with  which  the  city  was  crowded,  were  enormous, 
and  excite  the  astonishment  of  the  student.  How  did  the  gov- 
ernment obtain  the  means  for  this  costly  embellishment  of  the 
capital,  and  for  this  comprehensive  patronage  of  literature  ? 
They  had  a  carefully  adjusted  financial  system,  consisting  of 
rents,  taxes  on  every  kind  of  property,  fees,  custom-duties, 
and  especially  tribute  from  the  confederate  states,  —  the  most 
productive  source  of  their  revenue.  This  system  was  estab- 
lished soon  after  the  close  of  the  Persian  war,  for  the  purpose 
of  supplying  a  permanent  fund  for  naval  and  military  forces 
against  Persia,  whose  power  was'still  an  object  of  terror  to  the 
Greeks.  The  proportion  was  assessed  by  Aristeides  the  Just ; 
the  temple  of  Apollo,  in  Delos,  was  fixed  upon  as  the  treasury, 
and  the  place  of  meeting  for  the  allied  states ;  and  the  admin- 
istrators of  the  funds  were  Athenians,  appointed  by  the  Athe- 
nian government.  At  first  the  annual  amount  was  four  hun- 
dred and  sixty  talents  a  year,  or  not  more  than  half  a  million 
of  dollars.  Pericles,  by  a  coup  d'Stat  like  that  known  in  our 
political  history  as  the  Removal  of  the  Deposits,  transferred  the 
treasury  from  Delos  to  Athens ;  and  from  this  time  the  Atheni- 
ans assumed  its  entire  control,  and  expended  the  money  for  the 
exclusive  benefit  of  their  city.  The  amount  of  the  tribute  in  the 
time  of  Pericles  was  raised  to  six  hundred  talents,  and  finally 
to  twelve  hundred,  or  nearly  a  million  and  a  half  of  dollars. 


206  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

This,  added  to  the  other  sources  of  revenue,  made  an  immense 
income,  considering  the  high  value  of  money  and  the  cheapness 
of  living  in  those  times.  The  lavish  expenditure  on  the  various 
festivals,  of  which  the  Dionysiac  was  one  of  the  chief,  inspired 
the  people  of  Athens  with  an  insatiable  love  of  amusement, 
which  often  fatally  interfered  with  the  public  service.  This 
is  the  theme  of  many  an  indignant  remonstrance  in  the  great 
orations  of  Demosthenes.  In  one  of  his  Philippics  he  exclaims : 
"*  The  Panathenasa,  the  Dionysia,  are  always  celebrated  at  the 
proper  time, — festivals  on  which  you  expend  more  money  than 
on  any  naval  enterprise,  and  for  which  you  make  such  prepa- 
rations as  were  never  heard  of  elsewhere  ;  but  when  you  send 
out  a  fleet,  it  always  arrives  too  late."  And  Plutarch  makes  a 
Lacedaemonian  say,  that  "  The  Athenians  erred  greatly  in  mak- 
ing serious  matters  of  trifles,  —  in  expending  upon  the  theatre 
sums  sufficient  for  the  equipment  of  large  fleets,  and  for  the 
maintenance  of  great  armies.  For  if  it  were  calculated  what 
sum  each  play  cost  the  Athenians,  it  would  be  found  that  they 
had  spent  more  treasure  upon  the  Bacchai,  the  Phcenissai,  the 
CEdipoi  and  Antigonai,  and  the  woes  of  Medea  and  Electra, 
than  upon  wars  undertaken  for  empire  and  for  freedom  against 
the  barbarians." 

The  character  of  ^Eschylus  was  grave  and  earnest.  He  be- 
longed to  a  distinguished  eupatrid  family,  probably  descended 
from  Codrus,  the  last  Athenian  king.  From  his  earliest  youth 
he  was  accustomed  to  witness  the  solemn  spectacles  of  the 
Eleusinian  Mysteries,  into  which  he  was,  at  the  proper  age, 
initiated ;  and  the  severe  and  ascetic  doctrines  of  Pythagoras 
formed  a  part  of  his  intellectual  and  moral  training.  His  im- 
agination had  been  excited  by  the  pomp  of  the  Dionysiac 
worship,  the  plays  of  Phrynichus,  and  the  lyric  glow  of  the 
dithyrambs  chanted  by  the  chorus  in  stately  dance  about  the 
altar  of  the  god.  One  day,  when  he  was  employed  in  watch- 
ing the  vines  in  the  field,  he  fell  asleep  while  musing  over 
these  things ;  and  Dionysos,  appearing  to  him  in  a  vision,  com- 


,eschylus.  207 

inanded  him  to  "  write  tragedy."  As  soon  as  he  reached  the 
legal  age,  he  obeyed  what  he  regarded  as  a  divine  injunction. 
But  the  times  were  crowded  with  excitements  more  stirring 
than  the  contests  of  rival  tragedians.  The  capture  of  Miletus, 
in  494,  was  a  forewarning  to  the  Greeks  of  the  designs  of 
Persia  upon  Hellas  herself.  JEschylus  did  not  remain  behind 
in  the  brave  muster.  He  and  his  gallant  brothers,  Ameinias 
and  Cynaegeirus,  were  in  the  battles  of  Marathon,  Artemisium, 
and  Salamis ;  and  all  three  were  conspicuous  for  their  achieve- 
ments on  those  illustrious  days.  In  484  B.  C,  he  gained  his 
first  tragic  victory.  In  the  course  of  the  next  fifteen  or  sixteen 
years  he  won  the  prize  twelve  times  more.  But  in  468  Soph- 
ocles gained  the  victory  over  the  old  poet,  whom  he  doubtless 
surpassed  in  polish  of  style  and  in  mastery  of  all  the  resources 
of  tragic  art.  The  taste  of  the  times  began  to  change,  and  the 
lofty  tone  of  the  Marathonian  days  and  the  austere  spirit  of 
the  old  hero-poet  were  less  pleasing  to  the  more  fastidious 
race.  For  this,  and  for  other  causes  not  well  known,  -ZEschy- 
lus  banished  himself  from  his  native  land,  and  resorted  to  the 
splendid  court  of  Hieron,  king  of  Syracuse.  It  was  after  this 
that  he  composed  the  great  trilogy,  the  Oresteia,  containing 
the  Agamemnon,  the  Choephoroi,  and  the  Eumenides ;  and  it 
would  seem  that  he  must  have  returned  to  Athens  to  super- 
intend its  representation,  since  he  gained  the  victory  with  it  in 
458  B.  C.  In  one  of  the  parts,  the  Eumenides,  he  aimed  to 
sustain  the  authority  of  the  Areopagus  against  the  innovating 
spirit  of  the  times,  but  without  success.  He  lived  about  three 
years  after  this,  and  died  at  Gela  in  Sicily,  in  456  B.  C. 

The  subject  of  this  trilogy  is  the  fate  of  the  house  of  Aga- 
memnon, the  leader  of  the  Grecian  host  against  Troy.  Out  of 
the  thirty-one  extant  Greek  tragedies,  thirteen  are  upon  the  his- 
tories of  two  royal  houses, — that  of  (Edipus  in  Thebes,  and  that 
of  tne  Atreidae  at  Argos.  The  race  of  the  Atreidae  traced  their 
origin  back  to  the  gods.  From  generation  to  generation,  the 
ouse  had  been  stained  with  crime  and  blood.  The  Thyestean 
banquet,  in  the  generation  before  the  Trojan  war,  finished  the 


208         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

climax  of  horrors,  which  should  call  down  the  awful  vengeance 
of  the  gods.  Meantime  the  warlike  brothers  had  married  into 
another  family  doomed  to  affright  the  world  by  its  surpass- 
ing wickedness.  Helen,  the  wife  of  Menelaus,  causes  the 
Trojan  war.  The  Trojan  war  draws  Agamemnon  from  his 
home,  and  so  gives  opportunity  to  ^Egisthus,  the  son  of  the 
guilty  but  wronged  Thyestes,  to  lay  his  schemes  at  leisure  for 
the  ruin  of  his  hereditary  enemy.  The  evil  spirit  of  Clytem- 
nestra  is  easily  wrought  upon  by  the  arts  of  ^Egisthus ;  and  the 
sacrifice  of  Iphigeneia,  to  appease  the  wrath  of  Artemis,  by 
which  the  fleet  has  long  been  detained  at  Aulis,  supplies  to  her 
already  perverted  mind  a  fearful  motive  for  the  murder  of  her 
husband  on  his  return  from  Troy.  This  is  plotted  between 
her  and  her  paramour  ^Egisthus,  who  has  stolen  into  the  place 
of  the  royal  lord  of  the  palace.  The  first  part  of  the  trilogy 
contains  the  return  of  Agamemnon,  his  reception  with  feigned 
excess  of  joy  by  the  fiend,  his  wife,  his  murder  in  the  bath, 
and  the  establishment  of  the  blood-stained  and  adulterous  p^ir 
on  the  throne  of  Argos.  But  the  shedding  of  blood  must  ba 
atoned  for,  and  the  dread  duty  of  vengeance  falls  on  him  who 
is  nearest  of  kin  to  the  murdered  man.  Now  comes  the  strug- 
gle —  severer  than  the  conflict  in  Hamlet's  breast  —  in  the 
heart  of  Orestes.  An  overpowering  sense  of  the  retribution 
due  to  the  shade  of  his  foully  slaughtered  father  subdues  the 
"  compunctious  visitings  of  nature," — he  returns,  and  slays  the 
slayers  on  the  very  scene  of  their  crime.     Says  the  chorus : 

"  Wont  hath  been  and  shall  be  ever, 
That  when  purple  gouts  bedash 
The  guilty  ground,  then  blood  doth  blood 
Demand,  and  blood/or  blood  shall  flow. 
Fury  to  Havoc  cries  ;  and  Havoc, 
The  tainted  track  of  blood  pursuing, 
From  age  to  age  works  woe." 

In  the  short  and  terrible  dialogue  between  Clytemnestra  an' 
her  son,  she  exclaims  at  last : 

"  Thou  wilt  not  kill  me,  son  1 


jESchylus.  209 

Orestes. 
I  kill  thee  not.     Thyself  dost  kill  thyself. 

Clttemnestea. 
Beware  thy  mother's  anger-whetted  hounds. 

Orestes. 
My  father's  hounds  have  hunted  me  to  thee. 

Clttemnestea. 
The  stone  that  sepulchres  the  dead  art  thou, 
And  I,  the  tear  on  it. 

OEESTE8. 

Cease ;  I  voyaged  here 
With  a  fair  breeze ;  my  father's  murder  brought  me 

CLTTEMNESTEA. 

Ah  me !  I  nursed  a  serpent  on  my  breast. 

Orestes. 
Thou  hadst  a  prophet  in  thy  dream  last  night ; 
And  since  thou  kill'dst  the  man  thou  shouldst  have  spared, 
The  man  that  now  should  spare  thee  can  but  kill." 

But  the  revulsion  speedily  follows.     Even  over  the  bodies 
of  the   guilty  wretches,   Orestes,  after  justifying   the   deed. 

says: 

"  Let  grief  prevail.     I  grieve 
Our  crimes,  our  woes,  our  generation  doomed, 
Our  tearful  trophies,  blazoned  with  a  curse." 

He  feels  the  horrors  of  blood,  —  the  silently  approaching  foot- 
steps of  the  dread  avengers  of  a  mother  killed.  He  must 
flee  to  Delphi,  to  seek  the  protection  of  the  god  who  "charmed 
him  to  this  daring  point "  ;  — 

"  For  I  must  flee 
This  kindred  blood,  and  hie  me  where  the  god 
Forespoke  me  refuge.     Once  again  I  call 
On  you,  and  Argive  men  of  every  time, 
To  witness  my  great  griefs.     I  go  an  exile 
From  this  dear  soil.     Living  or  dead,  I  leave 
These  words,  the  one  sad  memory  of  my  name." 

The  Furies  appear,  and  he  flees ;  and  here  ends  the  second 

VOL.    I.  14 


210         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

part  of  the  trilogy.  The  third  part,  the  Eumenides,  opena 
with  a  scene  of  supplication  in  the  temple  of  Apollo  at  Delphi. 
The  action  is  thence  transferred  to  the  Areopagus,  —  the  most 
venerable  court  of  Athens,  before  which  came  cases  of  blood- 
shed for  their  solemn  sentence.  The  seat  of  the  worship  of 
the  dread  goddesses  was  hard  by  the  Hill  of  Mars,  where  they 
were  established  in  the  final  reconciliation  to  which  the  trial 
of  Orestes  leads. 

"  Go,  with  honor  crowned  and  glory, 
Of  hoary  Night  the  daughters  hoary, 

To  your  destined  hall. 
Where  our  sacred  train  is  wending, 
Stand,  ye  pious  throngs  attending, 

Hushed  in  silence  all. 
Go  to  hallowed  habitations, 
Neath  Ogygian  earth's  foundations. 

In  that  darksome  hall, 
Sacrifice  and  supplication 
Shall  not  fail.     In  adoration 

Silent,  worship  all." 

In  the  second  and  third  parts,  there  are  scenes  of  awe  and 
'error,  which  almost  make  the  hair  stand  on  end ;  but  the  sub- 
ject—  the  atonement  for  sin,  and  the  reconciliation  of  man 
with  offended  Deity  —  is  too  vast  for  human  solution.  The 
point  of  interest  is  that,  in  that  age,  a  poet  should  so  have 
anticipated  the  problem  which  lies  at  the  very  heart  of  Chris- 
tianity. The  first  play,  the  Agamemnon,  comes  more  within 
he  range  of  human  sympathies.  Its  idea  of  fate  is  identical 
-vith  the  law  of  retribution,  whereby  crime  begets  crime,  and 
by  the  fixed  decree  of  eternal  justice  the  child  keeps  up  the 
succession  of  guilt,  and  falls  under  the  condemnation  of  the 
gods.  The  character  of  Clytemnestra  is  the  most  terrible  and 
masterly  conception  of  the  poet.  She  has  been  often  com 
pared  to  Shakespeare's  Lady  Macbeth ;  and  there  is  some 
resemblance,  but  only  in  one  or  two  points,  especially  in  the 
unrelenting  purpose  to  slay.  Clytemnestra  is  a  character  of 
much  more  depth  and  complication,  —  a  combination  of  fiend- 


iESCHYLUS.  211 

is\i  |ualities,  whose  darkness  is  not  relieved,  but  only  made 
more  visible,  by  the  lurid  light  of  her  motherly  remembrance 
of  her  slaughtered  Iphigeneia.  The  art  with  which  she  cheats 
her  husband  by  simulated  joy  for  his  return ;  the  devilish 
irony  which,  with,  an  amazing  power  and  subtil ty  of  expres- 
sion, the  poet  weaves  into  her  words  of  welcome ;  the  fierce 
gladness  with  which  she  throws  off  the  mask,  and  revels  in  the 
voluptuousness  of  revenge ;  the  exquisite  effect  of  the  beautiful 
description  of  Iphigeneia  by  the  chorus,  in  the  midst  of  sacri- 
ficial horrors ;  the  fine  contrast  between  the  tender  sorrow  in 
the  house  of  Menelaus,  after  the  flight  of  Helen,  and  the 
bloody  consequences  to  which  that  flight  led;  the  most  tragi- 
cal situation  of  Cassandra,  gifted  with  the  art  of  divination,  but 
denied  the  power  to  make  her  prophetic  ravings  intelligible  to 
others,  —  advancing  to  the  fatal  palace-door,  within  which  her 
foreboding  soul  beholds  the  preparations  for  her  own  and  Aga- 
memnon's slaying,  while  phantoms  of  the  murdered  children 
of  Thyestes  haunt  the  gory  house,  seen  by  her  alone ;  the  band 
of  Furies  clutching  with  the  grasp  of  death'  the  race  foredoomed 
to  such  awful  expiation ;  the  choral  odes,  from  the  beginning 
filled  with  dark  forebodings  which  will  not  depart  at  the  bid- 
ding, —  the  darkness  slowly  and  surely  deepening  until  sud- 
denly the  glare  of  murder  clears  it  up,  —  these  are  some  of  the 
points  which  make  the  Agamemnon  so  extraordinary  a  tragedy. 
T  close  with  a  few  striking  extracts. 

IPHIGENEIA. 
"  Her  piteous  cries  to  a  father's  ear. 
Her  spotless  maidenhood, 
And  youthful  charms,  at  naught 
They  set,  —  chiefs  war-athirst ; 
And,  the  prayer  o'er,  that  father  dear 
Bespake  the  priestly  rout, 
All  downcast  as  she  lay,  to  lift  her  high, 
Raised  like  a  kid,  on  the  altar-stone  to  die. 

Then  pouring  o'er  the  plain  her  golden  blood, 
Fair  as  a  pictured  maid,  in  beauty's  prime 


212  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

She  pierced  each  sacrificer's  heart 
With  pity's  keenest  dart, 
Shot  from  her  sadly  supplicating  eye, 
Striving  to  speak  as,  oft  at  banquets  high, 
In  the  great  chambers  of  her  father's  hall, 
She  poured  her  voice." 

THE  HERALD'S  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  TEMPEST. 
"  Fire  and  the  sea,  sworn  enemies  of  old, 
Made  friendly  league  to  sweep  the  Achaian  host 
With  swift  destruction  pitiless.     Forth  rushed 
The  tyrannous  Thracian  blasts,  and  wave  chased  wave 
Fierce  'neath  the  starless  night,  and  ship  on  ship 
Struck  clashing ;  beak  on  butting  beak  was  driven , 
The  puffing  blast,  the  beat  of  boiling  billows, 
The  whirling  gulf,  an  evil  pilot,  wrapt  them 
In  sightless  death.     And  when  the  brilliant  sun 
Shone  forth  again,  we  saw  the  ^Egean  tide 
Strewn  with  the  purple  blossoms  of  the  dead 
And  wrecks  of  shattered  ships." 

SPEECH  OF  CLYTEMNESTRA  OVER  THE  BODY  OF  AGAMEMNON 

"  I  spoke  to  you  before ;  and  what  I  spoke 
Suited  the  time ;  nor  shames  me  now  to  speak 
Mine  own  refutal.     For  how  shall  we  entrap 
Our  foe,  our  seeming  friend,  in  helpless  ruin, 
Save  that  we  fence  him  round  with  nets  too  high 
For  his  o'erleaping  ?    What  I  did,  I  did 
Not  with  a  random,  inconsiderate  blow, 
But  from  old  hate,  and  with  maturing  time. 
Here,  where  I  struck,  I  take  my  rooted  stand 
Upon  the  finished  deed,  —  the  blow  so  given, 
And  with  wise  forethought  so  by  me  devised, 
That  flight  was  hopeless,  and  to  ward  it  vain. 
With  many-folding  net,  as  fish  are  caught, 
I  drew  the  lines  about  him,  mantled  round 
With  bountiful  destruction ;  twice  I  struck  him, 
And  twice  he  groaning  fell,  with  limbs  diffused 
Upon  the  ground  ;  and  as  he  fell,  I  gave 
The  third  blow,  sealing  him  a  votive  gift 
To  gloomy  Hades,  saviour  of  the  dead. 
And  thus  he  spouted  forth  his  angry  soul, 


&SCHYLUS.  213 


Babbling  a  bitter  stream  of  frothy  slaughter, 
And  with  the  dark  drops  of  the  gory  dew 
Bedashed  me ;  I  delighted  nothing  less 
Than  is  the  flowery  calix,  full  surcharged 
With  fruity  promise,  when  Jove's  welkin  down 
Distils  the  rainy  blessing.     Men  of  Argos, 
Rejoice  with  me  in  this,  or  if  ye  will  not, 
Then  do  I  boast  alone.     If  e'er  't  were  meet 
To  pour  libations  to  the  dead,  he  hath  them 
In  justest  measure.     By  most  righteous  doom, 
Who  drugged  the  cup  with  curses  to  the  brim, 
Himself  hath  drunk  damnation  to  the  dregs." 


LECTURE    XII 

EURIPIDES.  —  SOPHOCLES.  —  ARISTOPHANES. 

The  three  great  tragic  poets  of  Athens  were  singularly  con 
nected  together  by  the  battle  of  Salamis.  JEschylus,  in  the 
heroic  vigor  of  his  life,  fought  there  ;  Euripides,  whose  parents 
had  fled  from  Athens  on  the  approach  of  the  Persians,  was  born 
in  Salamis,  probably  on  the  day  of  the  battle  ;  and  Sophocles, 
a  beautiful  boy  of  fifteen  or  sixteen,  danced  to  the  choral  song 
of  Simonides,  in  which  the  victory  was  celebrated.  These 
three  great  poets,  so  singularly  brought  together,  differed  in 
style  of  thought  and  in  literary  manner,  as  if  the  several  rela- 
tions they  bore  to  the  Persian  struggle  had  exerted  a  moulding 
influence  upon  their  characters.  jEschylus  is  always  grave 
and  lofty,  with  something  of  a  Marathonian  tread  in  his  tragic 
cothurnus.  He  never  forgets  that  he  is  a  soldier ;  and  in  the 
inscription  written  by  him  for  his  own  tomb  he  speaks  of  his 
military  exploits,  but  says  nothing  of  his  tragic  victories. 

Sophocles  carries  the  rhythmical  movement,  in  which  he 
first  appears  to  us,  through  his  whole  life.  Elegance,  propor- 
tion, finished  art,  are  the  characteristics  of  the  man  and  the 
poet ;  but  within  these  limits  he  shows  an  orderly  force  and 
even  sublimity  of  genius.  The  pomp,  the  poetry,  and  the  tri- 
umphs of  the  war,  and  the  glory  accruing  to  Athens  from  her 
jrave  and  generous  part  in  the  strife,  have  dwelt  upon  and 
taunted  his  mind ;  but  he  shares  not  the  deep  enthusiasm 
which  lifted  the  older  poet  sometimes  beyond  the  comprehen- 
sion, and  often  beyond  the  sympathies,  of  his  audience. 

Euripides,  again,  born  in  the  midst  of  war's  alarms,  knew 
nothing  about  them  until  they  were  over,  and  the  ordinary 


EURIPIDES.  215 

tone  of  thought  and  feeling  had  resumed  its  sway.  Philosoph- 
ical speculation,  more  than  the  inspiration  of  national  glory,  or 
even  than  the  sense  of  the  beautiful  and  the  love  of  art,  occupies 
his  mind.  He  is  accused  of  having  lowered  the  character  of 
tragedy  from  the  stately  heights  at  which  it  had  been  kept  by 
jEschylus  and  Sophocles ;  of  having  interwoven  in  its  web  the 
glittering  threads  of  a  pernicious  sophistry ;  of  having  set  aside 
the  rigid  laws  of  construction  ;  of  having  loosened  the  connec- 
tion between  the  choral  and  the  dramatic  part  of  his  tragedies ; 
and  of  having  degraded  the  artistical,  compact,  and  richly- 
wrought  Greek  tongue  by  a  fluent,  sometimes  eloquent,  but' 
often  merely  loquacious  rhetoric,  borrowed  from  the  tawdry 
compositions  of  the  sophists.  There  is  some  truth  in  these  ac- 
cusations ;  but  their  real  grounds  were  greatly  exaggerated  by 
the  malicious  parody  of  Aristophanes,  whose  humorous  attacks 
have  too  much  influenced  some  of  the  modern  schools  of  criti- 
cism. His  abatement  of  the  lofty  bearing  of  tragedy  brought 
it  more  within  the  common  apprehens. on ;  his  eloquence 
pleased  the  nimble  fancy  of  the  Athenians ;  his  pithy  obser- 
vations on  common  life,  and  even  the  argumentative  tilts  of 
his  characters,  where,  dramatically  considered,  they  are  wholly 
out  of  place,  were  not  displeasing  to  the  disputatious  mob  that 
flocked  to  the  Dionysiac  theatre ;  and  so  it  has  happened, 
owing  to  this  greater  popularity  among  the  multitude,  that 
more  of  his  pieces  have  come  down  to  us  than  of  both  the  oth- 
ers together,  and  among  them  the  only  specimens  of  a  tragi- 
comedy and  of  a  satyric  drama  that  we  possess.  Some  of  his 
plays  are  planned  and  executed  with  as  much  art,  and  are  in- 
formed with  as  deep  a  tragic  power,  as  those  of  Sophocles. 
Several  of  his  characters,  especially  Medea  and  Alcestis,  —  the 
former  a  powerful  representation  of  the  jealousy,  madness,  re- 
venge, and  crime  of  a  bold  ana  passionate  woman,  whose  love 
has  been  lavished  on  an  unworthy  object  and  then  scornfully 
flung  away  for  a  new  tie,  and  the  other,  the  sweetest  and  most 
delicate  conception  of  disinterested,  self-sacrificing  affection,  — 
are  among  the  first  of  poetical  creations.     Alcestis  is  a  being  in 


216         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

whom  all  thought  of  self  is  merged  in  an  absorbing  love  of  those 
to  whom  she  is  bound  by  the  tenderest  ties ;  and  the  scenes  be- 
tween her  and  her  husband  for  whom  she  is  about  to  lay  down 
her  life,  when  she  comes  abroad  to  look  for  the  last  time  on  the 
light  of  heaven,  furnish,  in  their  pathos  and  beauty,  a  perfect 
contrast  to  the  stormy  agitations  of  Medea,  while  both  together 
illustrate  the  variety  of  the  poet's  powers. 

As  I  shall  not  recur  to  Euripides  except  by  allusion,  and  as 
this  is  the  only  tragicomedy  remaining  in  Greek  dramatic  lit- 
erature, I  will  occupy  a  few  moments  with  some  remarks  upon 
it,  and  one  or  two  brief  extracts.  It  is  the  legend  of  King 
Admetus,  who,  by  the  decree  of  fate,  could  be  saved  from 
death  only  by  the  voluntary  death  of  another.  His  friends 
naturally  decline  ;  even  his  father  and  mother  think  themselves 
quite  as  well  entitled  to  what  remains  of  life  as  he  is.  It  is  with- 
out his  knowledge  that  Alcestis  devotes  herself;  and  this  takes 
away  something  from  our  contempt  for  the  man  who,  under 
any  circumstances,  will  let  another  die  in  his  place.  With  the 
pathetic  scenes  the  poet  has  singularly  blended  grotesque  pas- 
sages, in  which  the  drunken  and  gluttonous  Hercules  fills  the 
house  of  mourning,  to  which  he  has  come  unaware  of  what  is 
about  to  happen,  with  clamorous  shouts  for  more  drink,  re- 
proaches the  servants  for  their  lugubrious  looks,  and  finally, 
when  he  is  told  that  Alcestis  is  dying,  marches  off  to  dispute 
the  possession  of  her  soul  with  Death,  gains  the  victory,  and 
restores  her  to  her  sorrowing  husband.  In  reading  the  play, 
as  has  been  justly  remarked  by  President  Woolsey,  we  are 
reminded  of  Shakespeare's  Hermione,  and  the  grouping  of  the 
characters  at  the  winding  up  is  strikingly  similar  to  the  tab- 
leau at  the  close  of  "  The  Winter's  Tale." 

A  few  lines  from  the  parting  speeches,  in  that  scene  so  fuli 
of  tender  beauty,  will  give  some  idea  of  the  tragic  portion  of 

the  piece. 

"  Alcestis. 
O  let  me  go !  O  lay  me  down  to  die ! 
My  feet  are  tottering,  death  is  pressing  on ; 
Dark  night  already  o'er  my  eyelids  creeps. 


SOPHOCLES.  217 

My  children  !  see,  your  mother  is  no  more. 
Farewell,  my  children,  take  my  last  farewell, 
And  live  rejoicing  in  the  light  of  day." 

Here  is  part  of  the  farewell  of  Admetus :  — 

"  I  pray  the  gods  to  grant  a  father's  joy 
In  these  my  children,  since  I  have  no  more 
The  dear  delight  thy  gentle  presence  gave ; 
And  I  shall  mourn  thee,  not  one  year  alone, 
But  every  day  my  lingering  life  holds  out. 

For  thou  hast  saved  me,  yielding  for  my  life 
All  that  was  dearest.     Must  I  not  then  mourn 
My  sad  bereavement  of  a  wife  like  thee  ? 
Yes  !  cease  the  festal  throng,  the  social  scene ; 
No  more  the  wreath,  and  music's  dulcet  strain, 
In  these  lone  halls  where  they  but  lately  reigned  • 
For  I  can  never  touch  the  lyre  again, 
Nor  lift  my  spirit  to  the  Libyan  lute, 
Since  thou  art  gone,  and  joy  is  fled  with  thee. 

And  in  my  dreams  oft  coming,  thou  wilt  cheer 
My  saddened  spirit,  while  my  senses  sleep ; 
For  e'en  in  shadowy  visions  of  the  night 
T  is  sweet  to  see  the  loved  one  stand  before  us, 
Though  swiftly  flits  the  well-known  form  away. 
If  Orpheus's  voice  and  wondrous  song  were  mine, 
That,  Ceres'  daughter  and  her  mighty  lord 
Subduing  by  the  magic  of  my  strain, 
I  might  from  Hades  bring  thee  to  the  day, 
I  would  descend  ;  and  neither  Pluto's  dog, 
Nor  Charon  at  the  oar,  the  gcide  of  ghosts, 
Should  hold  me,  ere  I  sped  thee  back  to  life. 
But  since  I  may  not,  wait  my  coming  there 
When  I  shall  die ;  and  have  a  home  prepared, 
That  we  may  dwell  together  in  that  world  ; 
For  I  will  bid  them  lay  my  hreathless  corse 
In  the  same  cedar,  side  by  side  with  thco  ; 
For  I  will  not  be  sundered,  e'en  in  death, 
From  thee,  who  hast  alone  been  faithful  to  me." 

To  illustrate  a  little  more  in  detail  the  form  and  character  of 
the  Attic  tragedy,  I  go  back  to  Sophocles,  who  holds  the  highest 


21 3  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 


rank  as  a  dramatic  artist,  though  perhaps  in  original  power  & 
little  inferior  to  ^Eschylus.  The  greatest  of  his  works  are  the 
three  plays  on  the  fates  of  the  house  of  (Edipus.  They  em- 
body his  powerful  conception  of  destiny.  In  the  first,  the  plot 
is  the  most  artfully  contrived  of  all  the  Greek  tragedies ;  events 
following  one  another  with  breathless  rapidity,  and  leading  to 
the  inevitable  catastrophe  which  casts  (Edipus  down  from  his 
kingly  state,  an  unconscious  and  self-convicted  parricide.  The 
second  ends  with  the  mournful  and  mysterious  death  of  the 
dethroned,  blind,  and  wretched  (Edipus,  who  has  sought  the 
grove  and  shrine  of  the  Eumenides,  —  the  very  spot  that  wit- 
nessed the  close  of  the  great  ^Eschylean  trilogy,  —  to  die  within 
its  hallowed  precincts,  unseen  by  mortal  eye,  and  thus  to  bring 
about  the  great  solution  of  Destiny  by  death.  The  third  car- 
ries on  the  tragic  stoiy  of  the  house,  the  civil  war  between  the 
sons  of  (Edipus,  their  mutual  slaughter,  and  the  punishment 
of  Antigone  for  burying  the  corpse  of  her  brother  Polyneicess 
the  invader  of  Thebes,  against  the  prohibition  of  Creon,  who 
has  succeeded  to  the  throne.  And  here  occurs  the  memorable 
collision  between  a  sacred  duty,  founded  on  natural  instincts 
and  hallowed  by  antique  usage,  with  the  presumed  binding 
sanction  of  the  law  of  God  written  on  the  heart,  on  the  one 
side,  and  the  edicts  of  power,  on  the  other.  Both  are  pushed 
to  extremes,  and  double  destruction  is  the  consequence.  So  the 
problem  presented  itself,  in  its  tragic  complication,  to  one  of  the 
wisest  minds  of  antiquity.  But  the  conflict  gives  occasion  to 
noble  and  poetic  scenes.  I  will  read  one,  where  Antigone, 
detected  by  the  king's  guard,  is  brought  into  his  presence. 

"  Creon. 
Thee,  thee,  with  earthward-bending  look,  I  ask,  — 
Dost  thou  confess  or  dost  deny  the  deed  ? 

Antigone. 
I  do  confess  it ;  I  deny  it  not. 

Cbeon. 
Thou  mayst  betake  thyself  where'er  thou  wilt. 
Free  from  all  peril  of  this  heavy  charge. 


SOPHOCLES.  219 

But  thou,  tell  briefly,  not  with  many  words, 
If  thou  didst  know  it  had  been  heralded, 
That  none  should  bury  Polyneices'  corse. 

Antigone. 
I  knew  —  how  not  ?  —  for  't  was  proclaimed  to  all 

Ckbon. 
How  didst  thou  dare,  then,  to  transgress  the  law  ! 

Antigone. 

It  was  not  Zeus  that  uttered  this  decree, 
Nor  Justice,  dwelling  with  the  gods  below,  — 
Gods  who  ordained  these  burial  rites  for  man. 
Nor  did  I  think  thy  will  such  power  possessed 
That  thou,  a  mortal,  couldst  o'errule  the  laws, 
Unwritten  and  immovable,  of  God ; 
For  they  are  not  of  now  or  yesterday, 
But  ever  live,  and  none  their  coming  knows  ; 
Nor  would  I,  through  the  fear  of  human  pride 
For  breaking  them,  be  punished  by  the  gods. 
For  I  know  well  that  I  must  die  —  how  not  ?  — 
Without  thy  loud  proclaim;  and  if  before 
My  time  I  die,  I  think  it  gain  to  die. 
For  how  can  one  whose  life  is  circled  round 
With  woes  like  mine,  not  think  it  gain  to  die  ? 
No  grief  I  feel  for  such  a  doom  as  this  ; 
But  had  I  left  my  mother's  child  to  lie 
Unhonored  and  unburied  on  the  plain  — 
Ay,  that  were  grief;  — I  sorrow  not  for  this; 
And  if  so  doing  I  am  thought  a  fool, 
He  is  the  fool  who  dares  to  think  me  so." 

Passing  over  these  three  great  plays,  —  which  in  subject  and 
connection  might  form  a  trilogy,  but  do  not,  having  been  writ- 
ten at  different  periods  of  the  poet's  life,  —  I  will  ask  your  at- 
tention to  a  somewhat  more  detailed  account  of  a  single  piece, 
the  subject  of  which  is  taken  from  the  Trojan  war,  —  the 
Ajax,  or  Aias. 

This  hero  holds  a  prominent  place  in  the  chivalry  of  the 
Iliad.  Born  in  Salamis,  his  story  was  connected  with  the 
<>arly  legends  of  Attica,  and  one  of  the  ten  tribes  was  called 


220  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY 

by  his  name.  In  the  Trojan  war,  his  strength  and  daring 
placed  him  next  to  Achilles  himself;  his  prowess  was,  on 
many  occasions,  the  bulwark  of  the  Greeks.  But  he  had  a 
fatal  defect  of  character,  —  an  overweening  confidence  in  him- 
self. When  warned  by  his  father  Telamon  to  undertake  noth- 
ing without  the  help  of  the  gods,  he  gave  an  arrogant  and 
scornful  reply,  and  drew  down  upon  himself  the  heavy  wrath 
of  the  higher  divinities,  especially  of  Athene.  Herein  lies  the 
far-off  motive  power,  which  slowly  brings  on  the  catastrophe, 
though  the  hero  is  descended  from  Zeus  himself.  During  the 
siege,  he  captures  and  destroys  the  city  of  Teleutas,  a  Phry- 
gian prince,  whose  daughter  Tecmessa,  according  to  the  cus- 
toms of  the  age,  is  assigned  to  him  as  his  prize,  and  becomes 
his  wife.  They  have  a  son,  named  Eurysaces.  After  the 
taking  of  Troy,  —  consequently  at  a  later  stage  of  the  Ilian 
story  than  the  close  of  the  Iliad,  —  Achilles,  according  to  his 
mother's  prediction,  is  slain.  A  fierce  struggle  follows  between 
the  Greeks  and  Trojans  for  the  dead  body,  which  at  last  is 
borne  away  by  Aias,  while  Odysseus  keeps  the  pursuing  Tro- 
jans at  bay.  The  divine  arms  of  the  fallen  hero  are  claimed 
by  Aias  and  Odysseus,  and  are  finally  awarded  to  the  latter. 
This  disappointment  strikes  so  deeply  the  proud  and  self-exag- 
gerating spirit  of  Aias,  that,  in  his  thirst  for  vengeance,  he  goes 
forth  at  midnight  to  break  into  the  tents  of  the  Atreidae  and 
slay  them.  Athene  suddenly  smites  him  with  frenzy,  and 
in  his  delusion  he  falls,  sword  in  hand,  upon  the  flocks  and 
herds,  killing  some  with  their  keepers,  and  leading  others 
bound  to  his  tent.  Two  of  these  he  mistakes  for  his  enemies 
he  cuts  off  the  head  of  one,  and,  lashing  the  other  to  a  pillar, 
scourges  him ;  all  the  while  loading  them  both  with  bitter  re- 
vilings.  When  he  comes  to  his  senses,  and  sees  what  he  has 
done,  shame  and  the  sense  of  lost  honor  drive  him  to  despair, 
and  he  kills  himself. 

This  is  the  story  as  given  by  Homer  and  the  Cyclic  poets. 
The  Attic  tragedian  here  has  for  his  hero  a  man  brave  ana 
generous,  connected  as  an  eponymus  with   the   early  legends 


SOPHOCLES.  221 

or'  Athens,  and  so  appealing  to  the  pride  of  the  nation ;  yet 
in  thought  and  act  showing  that  overbearing  insolence  on 
which  the  wrath  of  Heaven  falls,  leading  to  fierce,  vindictive 
passion,  madness,  and  dishonor  which  can  be  washed  out  only 
in  his  own  blood.  On  the  other  hand,  the  character  of  Tec- 
messa  —  drawn  by  the  poet  with  that  delicate  beauty  which  so 
distinguishes  his  creations  —  sheds  a  lovely  but  mournful  light 
over  the  tragic  horrors,  and  gives  a  natural  occasion  for  situa- 
tions of  great  tenderness  and  pathos.  Of  a  similar  general  tone 
are  the  feelings  excited  by  the  sorrows  of  Teucer,  the  half- 
brother  of  Aias,  his  friend  in  arms,  his  second  self,  standing  by 
him  in  peace  and  war,  and  watching  over  him  in  death  after 
the  heroic  fashion.  Again,  contrasted  with  these,  we  have  his 
hated  and  successful  rival  Odysseus,  —  so  hated  that  even 
in  Hades,  in  that  solemn  passage  of  the  Odyssey  where  his 
visit  to  the  souls  of  the  departed  is  described  with  such  gloomy 
colors,  the  soul  of  Aias,  meeting  his  living  enemy,  strides  in 
silent  wrath  away. 

"  Naught  answered  he,  but  sullen  joined 
His  fellow-ghosts." 

The  subordinate  characters,  at  least  so  far  as  this  action  is  con- 
cerned, are  Agamemnon  and  Menelaus,  the  generals  of  the 
host,  who  resolve  to  wreak  a  mean  but  characteristic  ven- 
geance upon  Aias,  by  refusing  to  his  body  the  honor  of  burial 
rites.  For  the  chorus,  there  are  the  Salaminian  sailors,  who 
have  followed  Aias  as  their  leader  to  Troy ;  who  revere  him 
as  their  prince,  glory  in  his  renown,  grieve  in  his  sorrows,  and 
suffer  in  his  shame.  To  an  Athenian,  whatever  of  dishonor 
had  befallen  the  hero  was  removed  by  his  death  ;  and  the  be- 
stowal of  funeral  honors  vindicated  his  fame,  and  appeased  his 
shade. 

The  whole  scheme  of  an  ancient  tragedy  was  very  simple  ; 
hut  much  care  and  art  were  required  to  adjust  the  parts.  The 
characters  were  to  be  so  arranged  and  balanced  that  they  could 
be  distributed  between  the  Protagonistes,  the  Deuteragonistes. 
and  the  Tritagonistes.     In  many  of  the  pieces  there  is  an  evi- 


222  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

dent  attempt  to  make  the  divisions  of  the  dialogue  correspond 
to  each  other,  like  the  strophes  and  antistrophes  of  the  chorus. 
This  is  shown .  particularly  in  those  parts  called  stichomythic 
or  line-for-line  dialogues,  responding  like  the  alternate  strokes 
of  hammers  on  the  anvil.  Shakespeare,  who  so  often  and 
so  wonderfully  resembles  the  Attic  tragedians  in  sentiment, 
imagery,  and  condensed  force  of  expression,  —  being  the  most 
classic  of  dramatists,  because  the  highest  in  genius  and  the 
truest  to  man  and  nature,  —  has  this  peculiarity  or  mannerism, 
not  at  all  from  imitation,  but  from  an  instinctive  seizing  upon 
the  same  means  to  work  out  a  similar  effect ;  as  in  the  dialogue 
between  King  Richard  and  Queen  Elizabeth,  in  Richard  III., 
Act  IV.  Scene  4. 

In  the  Aias,  the  parts  are  distributed  thus :  — 

I.  The  Protagonistes  plays  Aias  and  Teucer. 

II.  The  Deuteragonistes  plays  Odysseus,  Tecmessa,  and 
Menelaus. 

III.  The  Tritagonistes  plays  Athene,  Agamemnon,  and  the 
Messenger. 

There  are  also  mute  figures,  as  Eurysaces ;  attendants,  &c. 

The  scene  is  laid  on  the  Trojan  shore,  with  the  ships  and 
tents  on  one  side,  along  the  extended  beach ;  on  the  other 
side,  hills  and  a  grove,  —  these  represented  at  either  end  of  the 
stage  by  means  of  theatrical  machinery  and  scene-painting. 
The  play  opens  early  in  the  morning  after  the  hero's  insane 
act,  near  his  tent.  The  prologos  is  a  conversation  between 
Athene  and  Odysseus,  whom  she  discovers  endeavoring  to 
track  the  perpetrator  of  the  outrage.  Aias,  from  within  his  tent, 
takes  part  towards  the  conclusion.  Then  follows  the  parodos,  or 
entrance  of  the  chorus,  chanting  in  anapassts,  as  they  advance, 
a  lament  for  the  condition  of  Aias ;  the  wail  passes  into  a  cho- 
ral strophe,  antistrophe,  and  epode  ;  then  ensues  a  lyrical  dia- 
logue between  the  chorus  and  Tecmessa,  —  changing  gradually 
into  iambics,  —  in  which  she  relates  the  actions  and  describes 
the  state  of  Aias,  who  now  appears  and  gives  utterance  to  his 
iespair,  hinting  at  his  resolution  to  kill  himself.      Tecmessa 


SOPHOCLE&  223 

implores  him,  by  every  tender  argument  which  the  loving  heart 
of  woman  can  suggest,  to  relinquish  nis  dreadful  purpose.  This 
is  followed  by  a  dialogue  between  Aias  and  Tecmessa,  the 
pathetic  effect  of  which  is  heightened  by  the  presence  of  their 
child.  The  chorus  now  chant  a  song,  in  which  the  memory 
of  distant  Salamis,  and  of  friends  and  home,  is  introduced  with 
natural  beauty.  This  is  interrupted  by  a  speech  of  Aias,  in 
which  he  uses  the  craft  of  one  bent  on  suicide  to  make  them 
believe  that  he  has  abandoned  the  purpose  of  self-destruction. 
Here  occurs  a  beautiful  passage,  in  which,  while  declaring  his 
change  of  feeling,  he  describes  the  universal  vicissitude  of 
things :  — 

"  For  snow-piled  winter  yields  to  fruitful  summer ; 
The  orb  of  melancholy  night  retires 
For  Dawn,  with  steeds  of  white,  her  blaze  to  kindle  ; 
The  blast  of  dreadful  winds  hath  hushed  to  rest 
The  groaning  sea ;  and  all-subduing  Sleep 
Loosens  his  chain,  nor  always  holds  in  thrall." 

Hearing  this,  the  chorus  break  into  a  strain  of  frantic  joy, 
in  rhythms  expressive  of  exuberant  emotion.  At  this  moment 
a  messenger  arrives  announcing  the  return  of  Teucer,  who  has 
been  absent  on  a  hunt  among  the  Mysian  hills.  Hearing  what 
has  taken  place,  he  consults  Calchas,  the  soothsayer  of  the 
army,  and  learns  from  him  that  the  crisis  of  danger  has  come, 
and  that,  if  Aias  pass  this  day  unscathed,  the  anger  of  the  god- 
dess will  cease.  He  sends  word  to  the  attendants  to  restrain 
him  from  leaving  his  tent,  but  too  late.  He  has  stolen  forth, 
under  pretence  of  offering  sacrifice,  and  purifying  himself  from 
the  gore  in  the  running  stream,  but  in  reality  to  seek  a  spot 
where,  unseen  of  men,  he  may  end  his  life  with  the  sword 
given  him,  in  a  chivalrous  exchange  of  presents,  by  his  foeman 
Hector.     In  haste  and  terror  they  fly  to  search  for  him. 

The  scene  now  changes,  and  presents  on  one  side  a  forest, 
iust  within  the  edge  of  which  Aias  is  seen,  having  firmly  set 
the  sword,  on  which  he  is  about  to  fall^  in  the  ground.  At  this 
moment  he  utters  the  soliloquy,  as  celebrated  on  the  Athenian 


224  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

stage  as  that  of  Hamlet  on  the  English.  An  actor  named 
Timotheus  is  mentioned,  who  was  particularly  famous  for  the 
effective  manner  in  which  he  delivered  this  speech.  From 
this  circumstance  he  was  called  the  killer,  6  a<f>ay€v<i,  the  title 
by  which  Aias  addresses  his  sword.  Aias  falls,  and  immedi 
ately  afterward  the  semi-chorus  appears  with  Tecmessa,  having 
searched  in  vain  east  and  west.  Suddenly  a  shriek  is  heard 
from  the  neighboring  thicket;  Tecmessa  has  found  the  body 
of  her  lord,  transpierced,  but  still  warm  and  freshly  bleeding. 
A  wailing  dialogue  follows,  filled  with  horror  and  despair. 
Teucer,  arriving  upon  the  startling  scene  too  late,  expresses 
the  anguish  of  his  heart  in  a  speech  of  singular  tragic  pathos 
and  power. 

Here,  according  to  modern  ideas,  the  tragedy  would  prob- 
ably have  ended.  But  to  the  Grecian  mind  other  thoughts, 
of  deeper  interest  than  life  itself,  thoughts  of  burial  rites  and 
funeral  honors,  temper  the  anguish  of  the  hour.  The  relig- 
ious and  ethical  feeling  of  the  Greek  passes  on  to  the  funeral 
pile  and  the  commemorative  tomb ;  and  the  highest  interest 
is  still  to  come.  The  contest  now  lies  between  the  holy  duties 
to  the  dead  and  the  vengeance  of  the  outraged  chiefs,  who 
would  fain  cast  the  body  of  their  mortal  enemy  forth  to  the 
dogs  and  birds.  The  firmness  of  Teucer,  who  declares  his  un- 
shaken purpose  to  bury  his  brother,  and  the  relenting  of  Odys- 
seus, who  shows  a  chivalrous  respect  for  his  dead  antagonist, 
overcome  the  ferocious  will  of  Agamemnon.  The  tumult,  the 
passions,  the  frenzy  and  despair,  roused  by  the  events,  and 
crowding  the  scenes  of  the  piece,  are,  by  the  beautiful  and 
narmonizing  law  of  Grecian  art  and  ethics,  calmed  down  by 
the  all-composing  rites  of  burial,  in  the  midst  of  the  prepara- 
tions for  which  the  action  finishes,  and  the  chorus  move  off 
with  an  appropriate  anapaestic  strain,  which  closes  the  whole. 

I  will  conclude  this  analysis  by  reading  two  passages,  tc 
which  I  have  already  referred,  which  I  shall  give  in  a  measure 
corresponding  to  the  Greek,  that  is,  in  twelve-syllable  blank 
ferse,  and  line  for  line.     The  first  is  the  address  of  Tecmessa 


SOPHOCLES.  225 

to  Aias.  Its  tone  and  expression  show  how  closely  the  poet 
studied  the  great  master  of  nature,  Homer ;  for  the  interview 
between  Hector  and  Andromache  was  most  manifestly  in  his 
mind,  though  the  dramatic  handling  of  the  whole  scene  is  quite 
original.  The  object  of  the  speech,  as  I  have  before  said,  is  to 
dissuade  Aias  from  executing  his  suicidal  purpose. 

"  Good  my  lord  Aias,  than  the  slave's  enforced  lot, 
There  is  no  greater  ill  befalls  the  race  of  man. 
I  from  a  free-born  father  drew  the  breath  of  life, 
Mighty  in  wealth  as  any  Phrygian  of  them  all ; 
But  now  I  am  a  slave ;  for  so  the  gods  decreed , 
And  chiefly  thy  right  arm ;  and  therefore  ever  since 
Thy  love  I  shared,  my  every  thought  is  thine  alone. 
I  do  beseech  thee,  by  the  hearth-protector  Zeus, 
And  by  the  wedlock  thou  hast  interchanged  with  me, 
Consent  thou  not  that  I  the  bitter  taunt  receive 
From  foes  of  thine,  to  some  o'ermastering  hand  a  prey ; 
For  shouldst  thou  die,  and  dying  leave  me  all  forlorn, 
Be  sure  that  I  too,  then  and  on  that  selfsame  day, 
Forcefully  seized  and  borne  away  by  Argive  men, 
Shall  eat  the  bread  of  slavery  with  thy  infant  son, 
And  some  proud  master  shall  the  bitter  speech  address, 
Wounding  my  soul  with  words  :  '  Behold  the  wedded  fere 
Of  Aias,  him  who  was  the  mightiest  of  the  host ! 
What  servitudes,  for  how  great  envied  bliss,  she  bears  ! ' 
Thus  shall  they  saj' ;  and  me  shall  Fortune's  spite  pursue,  — 
Shameful  to  thee  the  tale,  foul  scorn  to  all  thy  race. 
But  reverence  thou  thy  father,  nor  desert  his  age 
So  full  of  sorrow ;  and  thy  mother  reverence, 
Of  many  years  inheritor,  who  oftentimes 
The  gods  implores  that  living  thou  mayest  home  return ; 
And  pity,  good  my  lord,  thy  son,  sith  he,  deprived 
Of  childhood's  nurture,  of  thy  tender  cares  bereft, 
By  cruel  guardians  shall  be  harried,  all  distraught. 
How*  great  the  woe  thy  death  to  him  and  me  bequeathes  ! 
To  me  there 's  naught  remains,  whereto  my  eyes  may  turn, 
Save  thee ;  for  thou  with  sword  didst  waste  my  natal  earth. 
My  mother  and  my  father  —  him  who  gave  my  being  life  — 
Another  fate  hath  borne  to  dwellings  of  the  dead. 
What  native  land,  then,  can  I  have  henceforth  but  thee  ? 
What  wealth  but  thee  ?     In  thee  my  all  of  safety  lies. 

TOL.    I.  15 


226  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

Of  me  too  hold  remembrance ;  for  it  well  becomes 
To  keep  the  memory  fresh  of  sweets  that  one  hath  had, 
Sith  kindness  kindness  doth  beget  forevermore ; 
Bat  he  from  whom  the  memory  swiftly  flows  away 
of  joys  that  once  were  his,  no  noble  strain  can  boast." 

The  next  extract  is  the  soliloquy  of  Aias  after  having  set  the 
»word  in  the  ground. 

"  Here  stands  the  slayer,  pointing  where  the  sharpest  edge 
May  reach  the  heart,  had  one  the  leisure  to  observe,  — 
The  gift  of  Hector,  him  of  foreign  men  to  me 
Abhorred  most,  and  hatefullest  to  look  upon. 
'T  is  firmly  fixed,  here  in  the  hostile  earth  of  Troy, 
Its  edge  new-sharpened  by  the  steel-do  vouring  stone. 
Myself  have  set  it  deep,  and  strongly  guarded  round,  — 
Kindest  of  friends,  and  bringer  of  my  speedy  death. 
So  am  I  furnished  well.     This  fairly  done  I  pray,  — 
Thou  first,  O  Zeus, — for  so  it  doth  beseem, — give  help; 
Nor  great  the  boon  I  supplicate  thee  to  bestow. 
Send  me  a  messenger,  the  evil  news  to  bear 
To  Teucer,  that  he  first  may  lift  my  stiffened  corse, 
When  fallen  transfixed  upon  the  freshly  dripping  sword, 
That  I  may  not,  by  prying  foeman's  glance  espied, 
Be  hurled  in  scorn,  outcast,  to  dogs  and  birds  a  prey. 
So  much,  O  Zeus,  I  thee  implore,  and  with  thee  call 
Hermes,  the  guide  of  souls  below,  to  give  me  rest, 
When  through  my  side  the  sword's  keen  point  bath  broke  its  way, 
With  one  quick  spring,  and  not  a  struggle  afterwards. 
The  ever-virgin  helpers,  too,  I  here  invoke, 
Who  aye  are  watchful  of  the  woes  of  mortal  men,  — 
The  awful  Furies,  swift  to  hunt  the  guilty  soul. 
See  how,  ill-starred,  I  perish  by  vile  Atreus'  sons. 
Come,  0  ye  swift  avengers,  O  Erinnyes, 
Revel  on  them,  nor  spare  one  man  of  all  the  host. 
And  thou,  0  sun,  careering  up  the  steep  of  heaven, 
When,  looking  down,  thou  shalt  my  fatherland  behold; 
Checking  thy  golden -studded  rein,  my  doom  rehearse 
To  the  old  man,  my  father,  and  my  mother  lorn. 
Sure  when  the  sad  one  shall  the  mournful  tidings  near, 
Her  wailing  voice  will  send  its  moans  through  all  the  town. 
Bnt  vain  this  grief,  and  idle  all  these  tears  and  cries,  — 
Quick  must  the  deed  be  done,  nor  longer  brooks  delay. 


ARISTOPHANES.  22*2 

O  death,  0  death,  be  present,  look  upon  me  here, 

And  *here  I  '11  meet  thee,  —  there  accost  with  friendly  hail. 

Thee  too,  O  instant  beam  of  fair  and  glorious  day, 

And  yonder  charioteer,  the  sun-god,  I  salute 

Now  for  the  last  time,  and  henceforth  nevermore. 

O  light ;  O  sacred  soil  of  my  dear  native  land 

Of  Salamis ;  0  home  and  hearth  of  household  gods, 

O  famous  Athens,  0  beloved  and  kindred  race; 

Ye  fountains  and  ye  rivers  and  fair  fields  of  Troy,  — 

All  I  salute,  my  fosterers,  all  I  bid  farewell. 

This  the  last  word  that  Adas  speaks  to  you  on  earth ; 

The  rest  be  told  to  them  that  dwell  in  Hades'  realm." 

Comedy  flourished  in  Athens  in  the  same  age  with  tragedy. 
It  connected  itself  also  with  a  Dionysiac  festival,  celebrated  in 
the  spring,  but  a  little  earlier  than  the  tragic  contests  ;  though 
it  would  seem  that,  sometimes  at  least,  comedies  were  enacted 
during  the  same  festival  and  on  the  same  stage  with  trage- 
dies. The  germ  of  all  comedy,  like  the  germ  of  tragedy,  lies 
in  the  common  nature  of  man ;  but,  as  I  have  before  remarked, 
it  unfolds  itself  prominently  in  literature  only  when  society  has 
formed  intricate  relations,  and  when  oddities  and  humors  of 
individual  character  are  multiplied.  In  the  simpler  stages  of 
society,  the  love  of  the  ludicrous  is  coarse.  The  refinement  of 
natural  feeling,  as  displayed  in  the  earnest,  enthusiastic  outflows 
of  the  heart  and  the  imagination,  seems  almost  independent  of 
artificial  culture;  but  without  culture,  wit  degenerates  into 
rude  impertinence,  satire  into  personality,  jest  into  indecency 
and  scurrility.  There  is  great  danger,  even  in  the  most  pol- 
ished age,  that  the  brute  in  man  will  take  advantage  of  these 
weapons  to  work  out  its  base  and  bestial  ends.  Satire  is  the 
teast  valuable,  the  least  pleasing  form  of  literature,  as  a  whole. 
We  would  readily  give  up  all  the  satires  of  Horace  and  Juve- 
nal, of  Boileau,  Pope,  and  Swift,  for  one  of  the  lost  tragedies 
of  Sophocles,  or  a  choral  composition  of  Simonides.  There  was 
never  a  satire  written  that  had  not  more  wrong  than  right ; 
more  ill-temper  ttaan  just  judgment ;  that  did  not  condemn  its 
author  more  than  its  subject.     Something  of  this  applies  to  the 


228  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

comic  drama.  By  the  necessity  of  its  nature,  it  deals  in  bur- 
lesque, exaggeration,  delineations  that  contain  more  or  less  of 
falsehood.  We  must  be  cautious  how  we  judge  of  society  or 
of  individuals  from  the  representations  of  the  comic  stage.  If 
we  believe  its  stories,  we  shall  come  to  the  unhappy  conclusion 
that  virtue,  honor,  and  sanctity  have  fled  the  earth.  It  always 
aims  to  make  strong  points,  to  strike  hard  hits,  to  raise  the 
laugh  of  the  pit.  On  the  other  hand,  in  those  works  of  the 
comic  theatre,  and  of  satirical  and  comic  literature,  in  which 
wit  is  tempered  by  good  taste  and  a  genial  temper,  —  in  some 
of  the  plays  of  Aristophanes,  most  of  Moli£re's,  the  greater  part. 
of  Shakespeare's  comedies,  the  writings  of  Lucian,  Cervantes, 
Addison,  Sheridan,  Washington  Irving,  Dickens,  Holmes, — 
wit  and  humor  season  literature  as  delightfully  as  they  do  con- 
versation and  life. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  a  people  so  voluble  in  speech  and  so 
quick-witted  as  the  Athenians  should  early  have  hit  upon  every 
form  of  satire,  burlesque,  humor,  parody,  and  fun ;  nor  that 
their  literature  should  have  abounded  in  the  richest  combina- 
tions of  these  provocatives  to  laughter.  Yet  the  Megareans,  of 
the  Doric  race,  claimed  the  invention  of  comedy ;  and  several  of 
its  early  cultivators  were  not  native  Athenians.  Epicharmus, 
Cratinus,  and  Eupolis  were  the  most  important  among  the  pre- 
decessors of  Aristophanes.  They  made  the  first  experiments, 
settled  the  principles  of  the  art,  moulded  the  rhythms  and 
style,  and  so  prepared  the  way  for  the  master,  who  was  to  sur- 
pass them  all,  and  to  carry  this  branch  of  dramatic  composi- 
tion to  its  highest  pei'fection.  The  precise  dates  of  this  poet's 
birth  and  death  are  not  known.  By  collating  the  facts  of  his 
dramatic  career,  his  birth  has  been  placed  approximately  in 
444  B.C.;  and  his  last  recorded  appearance  as  a  dramatist 
was  in  388.  Thus  he  was  the  contemporary  of  the  greatest 
tragic  poets,  and  the  greatest  philosophers,  historians,  and  art- 
ists, that  ever  flourished  at  Athens.  Most  of  his  pieces  were 
written  within  the  period  of  the  Peloponnesian  war ;  and  some 
of  thoir  hare  direct  reference  tr  the  state  of  things  which  tha> 


ARISTOPHANES  229 


lndeous  strife  of  mutual  hatred  and  jealousy  brought  about. 
The  corruption  of  public  and  private  morals  in  Greece  at  this 
epoch  gave  the  amplest  scope  to  the  spirit  of  travesty  and 
satire.  The  prevalent  philosophical  speculations,  especially 
those  of  the  Ionian  school,  —  some  leading  directly  to  panthe- 
ism, others  to  atheism,  and  all  to  the  formation  of  secret 
creeds  adverse  to  the  popular  mythology,  —  constituted  an- 
other element  in  the  agitation  of  the  times.  A  class  of  schol- 
ars, or  teachers,  called  by  the  general  name  of  Sophists,  but 
embracing  every  variety  of  philosophical  and  ethical  view,  had 
long  been  travelling  over  Greece,  and  discoursing  to  such 
hearers  as  they  could  find  and  as  could  pay  them  well  for 
their  lessons.  Among  them  unquestionably  were  some  men 
of  ability  and  honor ;  but,  generally  speaking,  if  we  may  judge 
by  the  manner  in  which  Plato  holds  them  up  to  ridicule  and 
reprobation  in  his  incomparable  Dialogues,  they  were  a  set  of 
word-snapping  quibblers,  who,  however,  were  prodigious  favor- 
ites with  the  talkative  and  disputatious  Athenians,  —  men  who 
proved  that  right  was  wrong  and  wrong  right,  and  that  there 
was  neither  wrong  nor  right;  that  knowing  one  thing  is  know- 
ing everything,  and  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  knowing  any- 
thing at  all ;  that  speaking  is  the  same  as  silence,  and  neither 
is  anything ;  that  you  have  no  father ;  that  your  father  is  a 
dog,  and  that  horses,  pigs,  and  crabs  belong  to  the  same 
family-circle  with  yourself;  that  as  the  beautiful  exists  by  the 
presence  of  beauty,  so  a  man  becomes  an  ass  by  the  presence 
of  an  ass  ;  and  so  on,  ringing  myriads  of  changes,  like  the  fools 
in  Shakespeare,  upon  these  quirks  of  word-jugglery.  The 
danger  of  such  trifling  appeared  when  the  same  worthless  slang 
was  applied  to  moral  and  political  questions  ;  and  this  sophistry, 
before  contemptible,  combined  with  a  showy  rhetoric  to  under- 
mine the  principles  of  eternal  justice,  on  which  alone  the  state 
nay  repose  in  safety,  and  of  eternal  morality,  the  only  stead- 
fast hope  for  the  character  of  individual  man.  Here  then  was 
&  lawful  subject  for  the  handling  of  the  comic  stage. 

Another  aim  of  Attic  comeay  was  to  amuse  by  a  witty  trav- 


230  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

esty  of  the  tragic  poets.  The  same  audience  that  were  dissolved 
in  tears  one  day  by  the  spectacle  of  heroic  sufferings  the  next 
day  were  thrown  into  convulsions  of  laughter  at  the  sight  of 
the  same  illustrious  personages  placed  in  the  most  ludicrous 
situations.  There  is  also  a  running  fire  of  single  sharp  allu- 
sions to  well-known  passages  or  persons,  which  an  Attic  audi- 
ence readily  took.  Thus  a  market-man  addresses  a  fine  Copaic 
eel  in  a  strain  of  affection,  parodied  from  the  speech  of  Admetus 
to  Alcestis :  — 

"  For  I  will  never,  even  after  death, 
Be  parted  from  thee,  —  dressed  with  leaves  of  beet." 

An  ambassador  apologizes  for  his  long  detention  in  Thrace  by  a 
snow-storm  that  buried  the  country  many  feet  deep,  —  brought 
on  by  a  tragedy  of  Theognis,  a  frigid  poet  of  the  time. 

Again,  political  events,  such  as  those  of  the  Peloponnesian 
war,  and  magnificent  projects  of  universal  empire,  like  that 
which  drove  the  Athenians  out  of  their  senses  at  the  time  of 
the  Sicilian  expedition,  were  brought  upon  the  stage  in  the 
most  amusing  manner,  and  often  with  more  effect  than  fol- 
lowed the  political  discussions  in  the  Ecclesia.  Grand  schemes 
of  revolution  and  reform,  of  annexation  and  reannexation,  and 
wild  speculations  of  any  and  every  kind,  which  were  constantly 
coming  to  the  surface  of  the  seething  caldron  of  Athenian 
life,  were  dramatized  with  infinite  wit  and  unsparing  ridicule. 
Public  men  were  brought  upon  the  stage  by  name ;  and  the 
actors,  by  the  aid  of  portrait-masks  and  costumes  imitated  from 
the  dresses  actually  worn,  represented  in  the  most  minute 
particulars  the  personages  themselves.  Socrates,  whose  strange 
Derson  and  grotesque  manners  offered  irresistible  temptations 
to  the  wits  of  the  comic  stage,  is  said  to  have  been  present 
when  he  was  brought  out  in  the  play  of  "  The  Clouds,"  and  to 
have  stood  up  before  the  audience  with  imperturbable  good 
humor,  that  they  might  compare  the  original  with  the  mimic 
semblance  on  the  stage.  From  this  brief  account,  it  will  be 
seen  that  a  large  part  of  the  function  of  the  comic  theatre  con 
sisted  in  discussing  dramatically,  and  with  all  the  liveliness  tha 


ARISTOPHANES.  231 

wit  and  sarcasm  could  lend,  and  all  the  force  that  party-passion 
inspired,  the  measures  and  men  that  occupied  the  public  atten- 
tion for  the  moment.  Objectionable  as  its  tone  frequently  be- 
came, coarse,  ribald,  and  libellous  as  the  less  scrupulous  writers 
generally  were,  they  scarcely  descended  to  such  a  depth  of 
falsehood  and  slander  as  is  reached  by  the  worst  specimens  of 
the  political  press,  under  similar  circumstances,  in  free  coun- 
tries. Finally,  any  miscellaneous  subject  by  which  the  Demos 
could  be  amused  —  even  ridicule  of  the  Demos  itself — was 
very  good-humoredly  allowed  by  that  admirable  impersonation 
of  the  humors,  passions,  faults,  and  follies  of  the  Athenian  pop- 
ulace. 

These  are  the  principal  features  of  the  old  comedy,  to  which 
all  the  plays  of  Aristophanes,  except  one,  belong.  The  middle 
comedy  comes  a  little  later,  when  it  was  forbidden  by  law  to 
introduce  individuals  by  name  ;  but  in  other  respects  it  resem- 
bles the  old.  The  new  comedy,  was  a  still  later  modification,  not 
iealing  with  individuals,  but,  like  modern  comedy,  inventing 
general  characters  to  represent  classes,  and  gathering  its  mate- 
rials from  the  observation  of  contemporary  life  and  manners. 

The  remaining  plays  of  Aristophanes  are  quite  sufficient  to 
show  his  unrivalled  talent  in  his  art,  the  copiousness  of  his  in- 
vention, the  brilliancy  of  his  wit,  the  vigor  of  his  imagination, 
and  the  singular  boldness  with  which  he  grappled  with  the 
most  formidable  demagogues  of  his  time.  There  was  no  more 
accomplished  master  than  he  of  the  Greek  language,  in  its  lyric 
sweetness  and  grandeur,  in  its  infinite  capability  of  rhythmical 
variations,  in  its  graphic  delineations,  in  its  lofty  eloquence,  in 
its  abusive  slang,  in  its  flashing  fancies,  as  well  as  in  burlesque, 
parody,  pun,  and  alliteration,  in  its  philosophical  jargon  and 
its  patriotic  cant.  Sometimes  he  reminds  us  of  the  extravagant 
whimsicality  of  Rabelais ;  sometimes,  of  the  quiet  humor  of  Lu- 
cian ;  again,  of  the  sharp  and  indecent  satire  of  Swift;  again, 
»f  the  wit  of  Moli&re,  who,  to  be  sure,  borrowed  many  of  his 
best  things  from  him ;  still  oftener,  of  the  splendid  versatility 
of  poetical  genius,  the  absolute  command  over  all  the  felicities 


232  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

of  language,  the  plastic  adaptation  of  rhythm  to  the  breathless 
succession  of  thought,  displayed  by  Goethe  in  his  Faust.  The 
philosophers  and  sophists  are  handled  in  "  The  Clouds."  The 
aristocratic  and  plebeian  demagogues  are  lashed  with  infinite 
and  impartial  humor  in  "  The  Knights,"  where  the  high-born 
equestrians  deprive  Cleon,  the  leather-dresser,  of  the  favor  of 
the  Demos,  by  setting  up  the  claims  of  Agoracritos,  the  sau- 
sage-seller. 

The  pretensions  of  the  rival  tragedians  are  wittily  set  forth  in 
"  The  Frogs."  Bacchus,  the  god  of  the  drama,  goes  down  to 
Hades  to  bring  up  Euripides.  On  his  way  across  the  Achero- 
nian  lake  he  is  saluted  by  a  chorus  of  frogs,  from  which  the  play 
takes  its  name.  In  the  lower  world  he  finds  Euripides,  claim- 
ing the  tragic  throne,  which  has  been  held  by  -/Eschylus.  Pluto, 
in  a  puzzle,  begs  Bacchus  to  decide.  The  two  poets  sing  and 
declaim  specimens  of  their  art.  At  last  a  balance  is  brought, 
to  weigh  their  verses  against  eacl*  other.  The  verse  of  JEschy- 
lus  instantly  sends  up  the  scale  of  Euripides.  Out  of  patience, 
-^schylus  tells  Euripides  to  get  in  himself  with  all  his  works,  his 
wife  and  children,  and  Cephisophon  into  the  bargain,  against 
only  two  of  his  lines.  Bacchus  decides  for  .^Eschylus,  who  places 
Sophocles  on  the  throne,  ad  interim.  The  following  is  a  part 
of  the  dialogue  between  Charon,  Bacchus,  and  the  chorus :  — 

"  Chabon. 

Thou  shalt  no  longer  trifle,  but  stand  firm, 
And  row  with  might  and  main. 

Bacchus. 

How  then  can  I, 
Unskilled  in  naval  Salaminian  tactics, 
Handle  the  oar  > 

Charon. 

Most  easily ;  for  thou, 
When  once  thou  'st  struck,  wilt  hear  the  sweetest  strains. 

Bacchus. 
From  whom  t 

Chabon. 
From  frogs,  swanlike  and  wondrous  melody. 


ARISTOPHANES.  233 

Bacchus. 
Give  out  the  signal  then. 
Charon. 

Oop  op,  Oop  op. 

Chorus. 
Brekekekex,  koax,  koax,  * 

Brekekekex,  koax,  koax. 
Ye  marshy  children  of  the  lake, 
Let  us  of  social  hymns  awake 
The  tuneful  sounding  strain, 
Koax,  koax." 

In  "The  Peace,"  "The  Lysistrata,"  and  "The  Acharnians," 
Aristophanes  deals  many  hard  hits  at  the  Peloponnesian  war. 
In  "  The  Wasps,"  the  passion  for  litigation  —  so  strong  a  trait 
of  the  Athenian  character — is  admirably  ridiculed.  Racine's 
"  Les  Plaid eurs  "  is  taken  from  this.  The  Thesmophoriazousae 
is  devoted  to  the  most  remorseless  ridicule  of  Euripides. 

In  the  comedy  of  "The  Birds,"  the  Athenian  system  of  uni- 
versal annexation  and  intervention  in  the  affairs  of  other  nations 
is  satirized  by  the  establishment  of  a  commonwealth  of  birds, 
which  reduces  all  mankind  to  terms  by  controlling  the  rain, 
and  brings  the  gods  to  terms  by  cutting  off  the  sacrifices.  The 
gods,  reduced  to  absolute  starvation,  send  an  embassy  to  Nephe 
lococcygia,  or  Cuckoocloudland,  consisting  of  Hercules,  Nep- 
tune, and  a  barbarian  deity  of  the  Triballi.  The  archon  of  the 
feathered  commonwealth  lays  down  his  ultimatum,  that  Jupiter 
shall  surrender  his  sceptre  and  give  him  his  favorite  Basileia,  or 
royalty,  to  wife.  At  first  the  ambassadors  refuse  these  terms 
as  unreasonable  and  extravagant ;  but  Hercules,  who  is  always 
represented  as  a  gourmand,  snuffing  the  odors  of  the  kitchen, 
immediately  begins  to  relent.  He  begs  the  archon  to  tell  him 
what  the  entertainment  is  which  is  going  forward.  The  ar- 
chon replies :  "  O,  it  is  only  a  few  birds  who,  being  found 
guilty  of  resisting  the  democratic  birds,  have  been  hauled  over 
the  coals,  and  are  roasting."  Hercules  can  stand  it  no  longer, 
and  votes  at  once  to  ratify  the  treaty. 


234         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

The  speculations  of  the  philosophers,  too,  are  here  amusingly 
hit  off;  especially  in  the  Parabasis  spoken  by  the  birds  after 
thw  <^aim  to  supreme  dominion  is  made  out. 

"  Ye  children  of  man,  whose  life  is  a  span, 
Protracted  with  sorrow  from  day  to  day, 
Naked  and  featherless,  feeble  and  querulous, 
Sickly  calamitous  creatures  of  clay  ! 
Attend  to  the  words  of  the  sovereign  birds, 
Immortal,  illustrious  lords  of  the  air, 
Who  survey  from  on  high,  with  a  merciful  eye, 
Your  struggles,)pf  misery,  labor,  and  care,  — 
Whence  you  may  learn  and  clearly  discern 
Such  truths  as  attract  your  inquisitive  turn, 
Which  is  busied  of  late  with  a  mighty  debate, 
A  profound  speculation  about  the  creation, 
And  organical  life  and  chaotical  strife, 
With  various  notions  of  heavenly  motions, 
And  rivers,  and  oceans,  and  valleys,  and  mountains, 
And  sources  of  fountains,  and  meteors  on  high, 
And  stars  in  the  sky.     We  propose  by  and  by, 
If  you  '11  listen  and  hear,  to  make  it  all  clear ; 
And  Prodicus  henceforth  shall  pass  for  a  dunce, 
When  his  doubts  are  explained  and  scattered  at  once." 

Then  they  give  their  theory  of  the  world. 

I  have  time,  in  the  present  Lecture,  to  sketch  only  one  more 
vf  these  pieces.  I  select  it  especially  because  it  relates  to  a 
class  of  ideas  which  is  commonly  supposed  to  belong  exclusively 
to  modern  times  ;  and  I  beg  you  to  remember,  as  I  read  extracts 
from  the  comedy,  that  it  was  brought  out  more  than  twenty- 
two  hundred  years  ago.  In  the  play  called  the  Ecclesiazousae, 
or  Women  in  Congress  Assembled,  is  represented  a  conspiracy 
of  the  women  to  usurp  the  government  for  the  purpose  of  re- 
forming the  state.  Questions  of  this  kind  occupied  the  most 
philosophical  minds  from  Protagoras  to  Plato.  The  rights 
of  women  were  in  some  sort  recognized  by  the  Dorians  and 
Cohans,  so  far  as  participation  in  the  arts  and  in  education 
went.  It  would  appear  that  Aspasia,  the  left-handed  wife  of 
the  great  Pericles,  introduced  certain  enlarged  views  into  Athe* 


ARISTOPHANES.  235 

rtian  society  from  the  saloons  of  that  statesman.  She  had  a 
great  deal  to  do  with  the  direction  of  public  affairs,  and  is  said 
to  have  polished  the  eloquent  periods  of  her  husband's  orations. 
From  the  topics  discussed  by  her  and  her  followers,  the  bolder 
spirits,  in  the  course  of  time,  began  to  question  the  justice  of 
excluding  women  from  political  influence.  And  it  must  be 
admitted  that  the  legal  disabilities  under  which  they  labored  at 
Athens  were  neither  few  nor  small.  They  had  no  rights  of 
property  except  through  the  representative  character  of  a  "next 
friend " ;  they  had  no  voice  in  answering  the  most  important 
personal  question  ever  put  to  a  woman  ;  they  had  neither  the 
privilege,  as  we  in  our  vanity  think  it,  of  saying  ye%,  nor  the 
pleasure,  as  they  in  their  wickedness  think  it,  of  saying  no. 
This  state  of  things  must  have  often  vexed  the  female  philoso- 
phers and  politicians,  who  seem  after  the  Peloponnesian  war  to 
have  made  Athens  the  head-quarters  of  their  speculations. 
These  discussions  form  the  subject  of  the  play,  which  compre- 
hends all  the  schemes  of  communism  that  had  ever  suggested 
themselves  to  the  teeming  brains  of  the  ancients.  The  piece 
was  brought  out  in  the  midst  of  the  vexatious  warfare  in  Asia 
Minor,  at  a  time  when,  doubtless,  the  female  world-reformers 
were  particularly  active.  It  dates  about  392  B.  C,  and  is  the 
last  of  the  author's  pieces  belonging  to  the  old  comedy. 

There  were  in  Athens,  as  in  every  civilized  community, 
some  gentleman-like  women  and  about  an  equal  number  of 
lady-like  men.  One  of  the  former,  a  strong-minded  female, 
Praxagora  by  name,  who  formerly  lived  near  enough  to  the 
Pnyx  to  overhear  the  eloquent  debates,  is  seized  with  an  in- 
tense desire  to  become  a  politician,  and  to  harangue  the  as- 
sembly on  the  welfare  of  the  state.  To  bring  this  about,  she 
forms  a  party  among  the  women,  to  steal  their  husband's  gar- 
ments early  in  the  morning,  to  put  on  false  beards,  and,  hur- 
rying to  the  assembly,  to  pass  a  decree  to  transfer  the  reins  of 
government  to  their  own  sex.  As  the  constitution  of  Athens 
was  at  this  time  ultra-democratic,  allowing  universal  suffrage 
*an?  scrutin,  no  practical  difficult^  lay  in  the  way  of  this  couy 


S36         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

d'Stat,  except  the  want  of  practice  in  debate,  and  the  habit 
of  swearing  certain  feminine  oaths,  as  by  Aphrodite,  Hera,  and 
the  like.  This  is  all  got  over  in  a  preliminary  caucus,  held  at 
midnight.  In  this  meeting,  before  declaiming  their  speeches, 
they  apologize  for  being  a  little  behind  the  time.  The  hus- 
band of  one  had  supped  on  sprats,  and  had  a  fit  of  indigestion 
which  made  him  cough  all  night ;  the  husband  of  another  had 
returned  late,  and  it  was  but  a  few  minutes  ago  that  she  had 
an  opportunity  to  filch  his  suit ;  another  has  brought  her 
woollen  work,  that  she  may  make  clothes  for  the  children,  and 
hear  too.  Praxagora  instantly  rebukes  this  last,  and  orders 
her  to  throw  her  work  aside.  They  proceed  with  their  discus- 
sion ;  but  every  one,  until  it  comes  to  Praxagora's  turn,  blun- 
ders by  appealing  to  the  goddesses,  or  addressing  the  assembly 
as  ladies.  At  last  the  leader  of  the  plot  speaks  in  a  strain  of 
eloquence  that  commands  the  admiration  of  all  present,  show- 
ing up  the  maladministration  of  the  men  and  the  superior 
qualifications  of  the  women ;  and  as  a  logical  conclusion  comes 
to  the  proposal, 

"  That  we  the  men  resign  the  helm  of  state, 
Asking  no  idle  questions,  as,  '  What  course 
Of  policy  will  they  pursue  1 '  but  simply 
Investing  them  at  once  with  sovereign  power. 
For  their  good  conduct,  be  our  guaranty 
Naught  else  save  this,  that,  being  mothers,  they 
Will  seek  their  children's  good ;  for  who  more  anxious 
Than  the  fond  parent  to  protect  her  nursling1? 
Then  for  the  ways  and  means,  say  who  are  more  skilled 
Than  women  1    They  too  are  such  arch  deceivers, 
That  when  in  power  they  ne'er  will  be  deceived. 
More  needs  not ;  only  follow  this  good  counsel, 
And  soon  ye  '11  see  the  Athenian  state  will  flourish. 

First  Woman. 
The  very  cream  of  speaking,  my  Praxagora ; 
Prythee  impart  the  source  of  all  this  wisdom. 

Praxagora. 
What  time  within  the  walls,  from  dread  of  wai, 
We  refuge  sought,  I  and  my  husband  lodged 


ARISTOPHANES.  237 

Hard  by  the  Pnyx ;  then  I  oft  heard  the  speakers. 
And  from  a  list'ner  have  turned  orator." 

Praxagora  is  appointed  mouthpiece  and  leader  on  the  spot , 
and  they  adjourn. 

While  their  husbands  still  sleep,  they  proceed  to  the  assem- 
bly disguised  in  "bloomers,"  and  pass  the  revolutionary  decree. 
Meantime  the  men  begin  to  bestir  themselves.  The  wardrobe 
of  an  Athenian  citizen  at  this  period  of  national  depression 
was  not  overstocked  with  spare  garments,  and  they  find 
themselves  in  a  somewhat  embarrassing  predicament.  How- 
ever, there  is  no  help  for  it,  and,  slipping  on  the  dresses  of  their 
wives,  they  open  their  doors  and  peer  cautiously  up  And  down 
the  streets,  to  see  if  the  coast  is  clear.  Blepyrus,  the  husband 
of  Praxagora,  is  first  seen  emerging,  in  a  pair  of  high-heeled 
woman's  boots,  and  a  short  bright-yellow  petticoat,  uttering  a 
soliloquy,  not  very  complimentary  to  that  "  gadding  jade,"  his 
wife.  Another  citizen  in  similar  plight  comes  down  the  street, 
and,  seeing  his  unfortunate  friend,  asks : 

"  Who  's  this  1  not  surely  neighbor  Blepyrus  ? 
By  Zeus,  but  't  ism  very  sooth  the  man  ; 
Prythee,  what  means  this  yellow  that  I  see  f 

Blepyrus. 

I  've  just  come  out  of  doors  with  my  wife's  kirtle 
Of  saffron  die,  she  mostly  wears  herself." 

While  they  are  discussing  their  singular  condition,  and  won- 
dering what  it  all  means,  another  citizen,  Chremes,  drops  in 
from  the  assembly.  He  is  apparently  a  bachelor,  for  he  has 
just  returned  from  the  Pnyx  without  comprehending  the  rev- 
olution, and  is  surprised  by  the  extraordinary  appearance  of 

Blepyrus. 

"  Chremes. 

What  dost  thou  ?  why  this  woman's  garb  art  wearing  f 

Blepyrus. 

Why,  in  the  dark  I  took  what  T  could  find. 
But  whence  camt  you  ?  " 


23b         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

He  tells  him  that  he  has  seen  at  the  assembly 

"  a  mighty  mob  of  fellows 
Greater  than  ever  crowded  to  the  Pnyx, 
Whom  we  that  saw  them  likened  unto  cobblers. 
Nor  this  alone ;  't  was  wonderful  to  see 
How  multitudinously  white  the  assembly  was. 
So  I  and  many  others  lost  our  fees." 

Chremes  gives  a  comical  account  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
popular  orators  were  hustled  out  when  they  undertook  to 
oppose  the  proceedings.  The  men,  especially  Blepyrus,  were 
abused  by  a  "  comely  youth,"  who  proves  in  the  sequel  to  be 
his  own  wife,  and  finally  a  decree  was  passed 

"t'  invest 
The  women  with  the  powers  of  government ; 
For  in  the  many  changes  which  our  state 
Has  undergone,  this  only  is  untried." 

The  law  is  carried  into  effect.  Praxagora  is  made  President, 
and,  at  the  demand  of  her  constituents,  proceeds  to  define  hei 
position  by  laying  down  what  we  call  a  platform.  The  prin 
cipal  doctrines  are,  community  of  goods ;  the  abolition  of  the 
family  relation ;  all  children  to  be  considered  the  children  of 
the  state ;  no  more  courts  or  jails ;  the  halls  of  justice  to  be 
converted  into  feasting  saloons  for  the  great  social  community. 
Blepyrus  listens  with  astonishment  to  the  long  series  of  re- 
forms, so  nimbly  rattled  off  by  his  wife.  He  throws  in,  here 
and  there,  a  sly  objection  ;  but  she  has  some  ingenious  salvo 
to  meet  every  case,  so  that,  when  she  plumply  puts  to  him  the 
question, 

"  These  specimens  how  like  you  of  our  skill  in  legislation  ?  " 
he  is  obliged  to  confess, 

"  Unqualified  applause  do  they  deserve,  and  approbation." 

The  President  issues  her  edicts  with  as  much  promptness  anc 
energy  as  the  President  of  the  French  Republic.  All  the 
citizens,  except  one,  obey.  He  grumbles  at  the  requisition,  re- 
cuses to  put  his  property  into  the  common  stock,  but  yet  insists 


ARISTOPHANES.  239 

on  having  Ins  share  with  the  rest.  The  streets  are  filled  with 
people  bringing  pots,  kettles,  and  every  kind  of  household  stuff, 
to  the  public  stores  of  the  community,  and  busily  discussing  the 
new  measures  on  the  way.  As  all  are  to  be  on  an  equality  in 
everything,  the  rights  of  the  old  and  ugly  in  matters  of  the 
heart  are  provided  for  by  an  edict.  A  young  gentleman,  on 
the  way  to  visit  the  maiden  he  loves,  is  claimed  by  three  old 
ladies  in  succession,  each  uglier  than  the  other,  and  each  there- 
fore asserting  a  prior  right  to  his  attentions.  He  is  seized  by 
two,  and  a  third  comes  to  the  rescue.  Seeing  her,  he  ex- 
claims :  — 

"  Ye  Pans,  Corybantes,  Castor,  and  Castor's  twin  brother, 
What  shape  meets  my  view  ?  a  hag  worse  than  the  other ! 
By  all  that  is  hideous  in  earth  or  in  air, 
Thy  name,  race,  and  purpose,  dread  phantom,  declare ! 
Art  some  ape,  daubed  with  paint,  and  tricked  out  for  a  show, 
Or  a  beldam  sent  up  from  the  regions  below  ?  " 

He  resists,  and  appeals  to  the  gods  in  the  most  pathetic 
manner :  — 

"  Now,  by  Zeus  the  Preserver,  who  ever  beheld 
A  wight  more  ill-fated  than  I,  thus  compelled 
To  remain  at  the  mercy  of  two  ugly  crones, 
Who  are  nothing  at  all  but  parchment  and  bones  1 " 

But  his  struggles  are  vain ;  he  is  in  the  hands  of  the  law, 
and  is  dragged  away,  singing  as  he  departs  his  own  funeral 
dirge. 

Preparations  are  immediately  made  to  inaugurate  the  refor- 
mation by  a  grand  banquet.  The  citizens  are  all  invited ;  in 
the  most  comprehensive  hospitality,  the  half-tipsy  maid-servant, 
who  officiates  as  the  President's  herald,  extends  the  invitation 
to  the  board  of  dramatic  judges,  and  to  all  spectators  of  the 
piece  ;  and  the  play  closes  with  a  change  of  scene,  bringing  to 
view  a  superb  dining-room,  with  tables  running  its  whole  length, 
crowded  with  the  members  of  the  regenerated  society,  before 
Vyhom  a  feast  is  spread,  described  in  a  single  word,  but  that 
\-ord  ten  or  a  dozen  lines  long,  compounded,  or  rather  agglu- 


240  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

filiated,  from  the  names  of  all  the  dishes  on  the  table,  and 
thus  representing  a  sort  of  gastronomic  solidarity. 

"  Limpets,  oysters,  pickled  fish, 
And  of  skates  a  dish ; 
Lamprey-eels,  with  the  remains 
Of  sauce-piquante,  and  birds'  brains, 
With  honey  so  luscious, 
Plump  blackbirds  and  thrushes  ; 
Cocks'  combs  and  ring-doves, 
Which  the  epicure  loves,' 
Wood-pigeons  blue, 
Juicy  snipes  too, 
And  partridge-wings  fine, 
And  rabbits  in  wine." 

The  invitation  is  accepted,  the  reform  is  in  the  full  tide  of 
successful  experiment,  and  so  we  leave  the  jolly  company  tc 
make  a  night  of  it. 

Such  are  some  of  the  features  of  the  ancient  comic  drama. 
The  Athenian  Republic  we  might  almost  fancy  to  have 
changed  places  with  the  North  American.  We  seem  to  be 
present  at  a  masquerade  of  the  ages.  We  follow  familiar  forms 
through  the  crowd  of  fantastic  figures ;  the  mask  is  raised,  and 
in  this  strange  disguise  we  recognize  a  face  that  we  have  en- 
countered in  our  daily  walks.  The  next  moment  the  visor 
drops ;  the  phantom  flits  away,  and  the  vision  of  the  past  is 
mpplanted  by  the  realities  of  the  present. 


LECTURE    XIII. 

THE  LATER  GREEK  DRAMA.  —  DECLINE  OF  LETTERS.  — THE 
ALEXANDRIAN  PERIOD.  — THE  BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  — MOD- 
ERN GREEK  POETRY. 

The  dramatic  writings  of  the  great  tragedians  and  of  Aris- 
tophanes the  comedian  are  the  only  entire  representatives  of  the 
Attic  drama  which  we  possess.  All  together  they  contain  a 
body  of  poetry  but  little  more  in  mass  than  the  works  of  Shake- 
speare, whose  genius,  in  its  grandeur,  versatility,  and  beauty,  in 
its  power  of  seeing  into  the  heart  of  man  and  representing  hu- 
man life  in  all  its  earnest,  solemn,  and  terrible  forms,  as  well  as 
in  its  light,  humorous,  ludicrous,  and  burlesque  aspects,  seems 
to  comprehend  in  one  what  in  Athens  was  divided  among  many ; 
just  as  he  often  brings  into  the  same  piece  dramatic  elements 
which,  under  the  more  rigid  laws  of  Hellenic  taste,  were  re- 
garded as  incongruous  and  as  belonging  to  different  forms  of 
the  art.  Shakespeare  is  the  best  commentator  on  the  Grecian 
dramatists,  and  they  should  always  be  read  in  connection, — 
the  reader  bearing  in  mind,  however,  the  distinction  between 
he  occasion,  purpose,  aim,  and  end  of  the  Greek  drama,  the  cir 
cumstances  of  its  representation,  the  limitations  of  its  structure, 
and  its  intimate  relations  with  religion  and  the  state  or  the 
entire  body  of  the  people,  and  the  widely  different  outward 
condition  of  the  drama  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time.  Shake- 
speare, when  we  make  these  distinctions  and  allowances,  is 
infinitely  the  most  classical,  so  far  as  I  know  the  dramatic 
literature  of  recent  times,  of  all  modern  writers  for  the  stage. 
The  classical  French  tragedy  of  Corneille  and  Racine  is  writ 
ten  in  more  express  imitation  of  the  Attic,  especially  in  the 
rigid  observance  of  the  unities  of  time,  place,  and  action,  whicb 

VOL.     I  16 


242         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY 

the  Athenians,  like  Shakespeare,  often  set  aside,  when  the 
higher  unity  of  the  poetic  spirit  required  it.  But  it  seems  to  me 
that  those  illustrious  poets  do  not  come  so  near  the  true  classi- 
cal tone  as  Shakespeare,  because  they  do  not  stand  so  near  to 
Nature,  who  is  always  classical,  —  because  they  do  not  paint 
the  passions  and  unfold  the  tragic  ideas  which  lie  at  the  basis 
of  all  genuine  dramatic  representation  with  a  directness  and 
force  equal  to  his.  At  the  same  time,  I  am  far  from  assenting 
to  the  justice  of  Schlegel's  severe  condemnation  of  the  old  clas- 
sical tragedy  of  France.  Having  recently  studied  it  afresh, 
after  a  long  interval,  and  for  the  purpose  of  comparison,  I  have 
been  impressed  with  a  sense  of  its  power,  such  as  in  my  more 
youthful  studies  escaped  me ;  and  I  have  been  led  to  distrust 
the  soundness  of  Schlegel's  judgment. 

The  classical  pieces  of  Alfieri,  short  as  they  fall  of  jEschylus 
and  Sophocles,  will  stand  a  fair  comparison  with  Euripides  ;  his 
"  Alceste  "  is,  in  many  points,  a  finer  drama  than  its  Grecian 
prototype ;  and  he  has  handled  the  tragic  fortunes  of  the  house 
of  Agamemnon  with  great  force  of  style  and  depth  of  insight. 
The  modern  classical  drama  —  I  mean  the  express  imitation  of 
the  ancient  —  ought,  indeed,  to  be  judged  chiefly  by  making 
Euripides  the  term  of  comparison.  But,  I  repeat  it,  taking 
the  whole  Attic  drama  together,  —  the  grandeur  of  conception, 
the  profound  views  of  man's  destiny,  the  terrors  of  retribution 
for  crime,  the  terse  expression  of  the  results  of  experience  and 
of  the  deepest  truths  of  intuitive  philosophy,  the  force,  loftiness, 
and  exquisite  rhythm  of  language,  —  Shakespeare  and  the 
Greek  tragedians  are  each  other's  best  expounders. 

The  comedy  of  the  Athenians  took  a  wider  flight  than  that 
of  any  modern  nation.  Moli^re  well  illustrates  the  merely 
witty,  humorous,  and  satirical  element ;  but  in  breadth  of 
view,  in  lyrical  spirit,  in  patriotic  aim,  in  infinite  and  unsating 
variety,  a  comparison  between  him  and  Aristophanes  cannot 
be  sustained  for  a  moment.  The  French  comedy,  for  the  last 
fifteen  or  twenty  years,  in  fineness  of  expression,  in  directness 
rf  political  and  social  allusion,  and  in  general  bearing  upon  the 


THE  LATER  GREEK  DRAMA.  243 

manners,  circumstances,  and  characters  of  the  contemporary 
world,  —  especially  in  the  works  of  authors  of  the  first  class, 
like  Scribe,  —  affords  an  excellent  parallel  to  the  Athenian 
comic  stage ;  but  in  the  higher  poetical  qualities  the  parallel 
ceases. 

A  singular  feature  in  the  history  of  the  ancient  drama  was 
the  continuance  ol  the  dramatic  art  in  the  same  families,  some- 
times for  three  generations.  The  poet,  like  the  great  artists  of 
modern  Italy,  surrounded  himself  with  disciples  who  learned 
from  him  the  principles  and  the  practice  of  his  art ;  and  it  so 
happened,  in  the  case  of  all  those  whom  I  have  mentioned, 
that  the  mantle  of  their  genius  fell  upon  their  descendants,  who 
also  inherited  their  unfinished  and  unrepresented  works.  The 
contemporaries  of  the  great  masters  were  doubtless  men  of 
genius,  since  their  dramas  often  gained  the  victory  over  those 
of  JEscbylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides ;  but  we  are  justified  in 
inferring,  from  the  destruction  of  all  their  works,  that  the  plays 
we  possess  of  these  three  poets  contain,  in  fair  measure,  the  best 
productions  of  the  tragic  stage,  ^schylus  left  a  son,  Eupho- 
rion,  and  two  nephews,  Philocles  and  Astydamas,  who  were 
all  distinguished  tragic  poets ;  the  last  having  brought  out, 
after  the  Peloponnesian  war,  two  hundred  and  forty  pieces, 
and  gained  the  victory  fifteen  times.  Sophocles  left  a  son, 
Iophon,  distinguished  in  the  lifetime  of  his  father,  and  a  grand- 
son, the  younger  Sophocles,  who  was  the  rival  of  Astyda- 
mas, and  gained  the  prize  twelve  times.  There  was  also  a 
younger  Euripides,  nephew  of  the  great  tragedian,  who  was  a 
very  successful  author.  Two  sons  of  Aristophanes  followed 
their  father  on  the  comic  stage.  Thus  dramatic  literature 
was  long  sustained  at  Athens  after  its  most  illustrious  writers 
had  passed  away.  Yet  the  public  affairs  of  Athens  in  this  pe- 
riod had  undergone  a  decline.  The  Peloponnesian  war  had 
broken  down  her  power  and  exhausted  her  wealth.  From  that 
disastrous  overthrow  she  sprang  up  with  her  inborn  elasticity 
but  she  never  wholly  recovered.  Her  constitution  was  re- 
stored in  its*  main  features  after  the  overthrow  of  the  Thirty 


244         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

Tyrants  by  Thrasybulus  and  the  returning  exiles,  and  some  of 
her  former  confederates  renewed  their  allegiance  ;  but  her 
treasury  was  empty  and  her  revenue  crippled.  Though  the 
literary  and  festal  delights  that  made  Athens  at  every  season 
of  the  year  the  centre  of  attraction  for  the  civilized  world  were 
the  last  the  people  would  resign,  yet  the  splendor  of  the  ex- 
hibitions was  greatly  impaired  by  the  loss  of  public  wealth  and 
the  diminution  of  private  fortunes.  The  drama  continued,  on 
a  reduced  scale,  through  the  wars  in  Asia  Minor  which  fol- 
lowed the  Peloponnesian,  through  the  struggle  which  Demos- 
thenes sustained  with  desperate  odds  against  Philip  and  Alex- 
ander, and  even  through  the  period  of  Macedonian  and  Roman 
supremacy. 

In  comedy  the  most  important  name  after  Aristophanes  is 
Menander,  the  loss  of  whose  works  is  the  greatest  disaster  which 
Athenian  literature  has  sustained.  He  was  born  at  Athens 
in  341  B.  C,  being  the  son  of  Diopeithes,  the  commander  of 
the  Athenian  fleet  in  the  Hellespont,  —  well  known  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  times  from  the  circumstance  that  he  was  the  friend 
of  Demosthenes,  and  that,  when  brought  to  trial  by  the  Mace- 
donian party  on  the  charge  of  violating  Philip's  territory,  he  was 
defended  by  the  great  orator  in  his  still  extant  oration  on  the 
affairs  of  the  Chersonese.  He  was  the  nephew  of  Alexis,  also 
a  distinguished  comic  poet,  by  whom  he  was  said  to  have  been 
instructed  in  the  principles  of  the  art.  Theophrastus  the  phi- 
losopher was  one  of  his  teachers,  and  Epicurus  was  his  intimate 
friend.  Both  of  these  men  had  great  influence  on  his  charac- 
ter. He  wrote  an  epigram  on  Themistocles  and  Epicurus,  to 
the  effect  that  the  former  rescued  the  country  from  slavery, 
the  latter  from  nonsense.  No  doubt  he  was  somewhat  of  a 
voluptuary  as  well  as  a  fop.  His  dress  was  always  studied  and 
elegant,  and  he  delighted  in  perfumes.  He  was  one  of  the 
Andsomest  men  of  his  age ;  the  beauty  of  his  countenance 
having  been  rendered,  perhaps,  more  piquant  by  the  slightest 
possible  squint,  As  Suidas  says,  he  was  cross-eyed,  but  sharp- 
witted.      The  first  Greek  king  of  Egypt,  Ptolemy,  already 


THE   LATER   GREEK   DRAMA.  24ft 

desirous  of  assembling  at  his  court  in  Alexandria  the  eminent 
literary  men  of  the  age,  invited  him  thither ;  but  he  preferred  tc 
remain  at  Athens.  He  lived  to  the  age  of  fifty-one  or  fifty-two 
years,  and  perished  by  drowning  in  the  Peiraeus,  having  written 
more  than  a  hundred  comedies,  and  gained  the  prize  but  eight 
times.  This  comparative  want  of  public  success,  which  he  bore 
with  the  good  humor  of  a  follower  of  Epicurus,  is  attributed  by 
some  to  the  superiority  of  his  pieces  over  those  of  his  competi- 
tors in  elegance  and  dignity.  However  this  may  be,  they  were 
pronounced,  by  the  consenting  voices  of  the  ancient  critics,  the 
most  finished  models  of  the  new  comedy.  With  the  generation 
that  followed  they  rose  to  the  highest  fame.  They  continued 
to  be  played  down  to  the  time  of  Plutarch,  and  were  translated 
and  imitated  by  the  comic  writers  of  Rome,  especially  by  the 
elegant  Terence.  The  beauty  and  propriety  of  his  style,  the 
skill  with  which,  like  his  master  Theophrastus,  he  caught  the 
humors  and  delineated  the  characters  of  society,  the  depth  of 
his  observation,  and  the  pith  of  his  sayings,  made  him  a  uni- 
versal favorite  among  his  countrymen.  Of  this  fact  there  can 
be  no  doubt ;  and  the  numerous  fragments  of  his  plays  show 
that  their  estimate  of  his  genius  was  well  founded.  It  is  sur- 
prising that,  while  there  exist  passages  belonging  to  seventy  or 
eighty  of  his  plays  whose  names  are  known,  and  five  hundred 
more  fragments  of  pieces  not  named,  no  entire  play  should 
have  come  down  to  us.     I  quote  the  following  fragments. 

"  To  me  most  haupy,  therefore,  he  appears, 
Who,  having  once,  unmoved  by  hopes  and  fears, 
Surveyed  this  sun,  earth,  ocean,  cloud,  and  flame, 
Well  satisfied,  returns  from  whence  he  came. 
Is  life  a  hundred  years,  or  e'er  so  few,  , 

'T  is  repetition  all,  and  nothing  new ; 
A  fair  where  thousands  meet,  but  none  can  stay  ■ 
An  inn  where  travellers  bait,  then  post  away ; 
A  sea  where  man  perpetually  is  tossed, 
Now  plunged  in  business,  now  in  trifles  lost. 
Who  leave  it  first,  the  peaceful  port  first  gain. 
Hold  then  !  no  farther  launch  into  the  main  ; 
Contract  your  sails.     Life  nothing  can  bestow 


246  THE   GREKK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

By  long  continuance,  but  continued  woe ;  — 
The  wretched  privilege  daily  to  deplore 
The  funerals  of  our  friends  who  go  before ; 
Diseases,  pains,  anxieties,  and  cares, 
And  age  surrounded  with  a  thousand  snares/' 

"  You  say,  not  always  wisely,  'Know  thyself  : 
'  Know  others/  ofttimes,  is  a  better  maxim." 

'  Of  all  bad  things  with  which  mankind  are  curst, 
Their  own  bad  tempers  surely  are  the  worst." 

"  The  rich  all  happy  I  was  wont  to  hold, 
Who  never  paid  large  usury  for  gold. 

*  Those  sons  of  fortune  never  sigh,'  I  said, 

*  Nor  toss  with  anguish  on  their  weary  bed ; 
But,  soft  dissolving  into  balmy  sleep, 
Indulge  sweet  slumbers,  while  the  needy  weep.' 
But  now  the  great  and  opulent  I  see 
Lament  their  lot,  and  mourn  as  well  as  we." 

"  If  you  would  know  of  what  frail  stuff  you  're  made, 
Go  to  the  tombs  of  the  illustrious  dead ; 
There  rest  the  bones  of  kings ;  there  tyrants  rot ; 
There  sleep  the  rich,  the  noble,  and  the  wise ; 
There  pride,  ambition,  beauty's  fairest  form, 
All  dust  alike,  compound  one  common  mass. 
Reflect  on  these,  and  in  them  see  yourself." 

I  will  here  quote  a  fragment  —  the  only  one  extant  —  of 
Strato,  a  poet  of  the  same  period.  It  seems  to  be  taken  from 
the  speech  of  a  person  who  has  just  been  been  put  out  of  pa- 
tience by  the  pedantry  of  his  cook,  who  insists  on  inventing 
new-fangled  words  and  using  the  language  of  Homer. 

"  I  've  harbored  a  he-sphinx,  and  not  a  cook ; 
For,  by  the  gods,  he  talked  to  me  in  riddles, 
And  coined  new  words  that  pose  me  to  interpret. 
No  sooner  had  he  entered  on  his  office, 
Than,  eying  me  from  head  to  foot  he  cries, 
<  How  many  mortals  hast  thou  bid  to  supper  ?  ' 
'  Mortals ! '  quoth  I,  « what  tell  you  me  of  mortals  ? 
let  Jove  decide  on  their  mortality ; 


DECLINE   OF   LETTERS.  247 

Yon  're  crazy,  sure !  none  by  that  name  are  bidden 

*  No  table-usher  1  none  to  officiate 

As  master  of  the  courses  ?  '    '  No  such  person. 

Moschion,  and  Niceratus,  and  Philinus, 

These  are  my  guests  and  friends,  and  amongst  these 

You'll  find  no  table-decker,  as  I  take  it.' 

'  Gods  !  is  it  possible  ? '  cried  he.    '  Most  certain.' 

I  patiently  replied.    He  swelled  and  huffed 

As  if,  forsooth,  I  'd  done  him  heinous  wrong, 

And  robbed  him  of  his  proper  dignity. 

Ridiculous  conceit !     'What  offering  makest  thou 

To  Erysichthon ? '  he  demanded.     'None.' 

*  Shall  r.ot  the  wide-horned  ox  be  felled  ? '  cries  he. 
'  I  sacrifice  no  ox.'     '  Nor  yet  a  wether  ?  ' 

*  Not  I,  by  Jove ;  a  simple  sheep  perhaps.' 

'  And  what  's  a  wether  but  a  sheep  ?  '  cries  he. 

'  I  'm  a  plain  man,  my  friend,  and  therefore  speak 

Plain  language.'     '  What !  I  speak  as  Homer  does ; 

And  sure  a  cook  may  use  like  privilege 

And  more  than  a  blind  poet.'     •  Not  with  me ; 

I  Tl  have  no  kitchen  Homers  in  my  house : 

So  pray  discharge  yourself.'     This  said,  we  parted." 

Several  species  of  miscellaneous  poetry  flourished  in  Athens 
and  in  other  parts  of  Greece  during  this  and  the  preceding 
period,  and  for  seven  or  eight  centuries  later.  There  was  the 
Gnomic  poetry,  mostly  in  elegiac  measure,  contemporaneous 
with  the  lyric,  and  forming  the  transition  between  poetry  and 
philosophic  prose,  which  was,  singularly  enough,  the  earliest 
form  of  prose  composition  in  Greece.  There  was  a  vast  num- 
ber of  smaller  pieces,  called  epigrams,  or  inscriptions,  of  va- 
rious lengths,  from  two  lines,  like  that  in  honor  of  the  Lace- 
daemonians who  fell  at  Thermopylae,  which  I  read  in  a  former 
lecture,  to  ten  or  twenty.  These  range  from  the  sixth  century 
before,  to  the  seventh  after  Christ ;  and,  of  course,  are  of  every 
degree  of  merit,  in  every  conceivable  style,  and  on  every  im- 
aginable subject. 

The  period  of  nearly  two  centuries  from  the  death  of  Alex- 
ander to  the  fall  of  the  Achaean  League  and  the  subjugation 
of  Greece  to  Rome,  was  a  period  of  great  decline  in  public 


248  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

spirit  and  in  private  morals.  Philopoemen,  who  perished  in 
the  final  struggle  for  independence,  has  been  called  the  last  of 
the  Greeks.  Literature  suffered  with  the  decay  of  national 
honor  and  the  consciousness  of  the  lofty  rank  hitherto  held  by 
the  Hellenic  race.  But  for  six  or  seven  centuries  Athens  was 
the  university  which  educated  the  leading  minds  of  the  Roman 
world.  The  ablest  young  men,  the  sons  of  the  highest  person- 
ages in  the  Roman  Republic  and  Empire,  were  sent  to  that 
city,  where  the  illustrious  monuments  of  the  art  and  genius  of 
a  great  race  softened  and  refined  their  characters,  and  where 
the  most  accomplished  teachers  in  literature  and  rhetoric  were 
to  be  found.  No  doubt  the  vices  of  sycophancy  and  servility  — 
the  accursed  offspring  of  political  degradation  —  were  to  some 
extent  the  characteristics  especially  of  the  Greek  adventurers 
who  sought  their  fortunes  in  the  distant  capital  of  the  Empire. 
But  we  must  beware  of  applying  the  darkly  colored  portraits 
drawn  by  the  Roman  satirists  from  these  discredited  originals  to 
the  whole  Hellenic  race.  The  scholars  and  philosophers  at 
Athens  still  retained,  not  only  the  faults,  but  many  of  the  vir- 
tues, of  the  corresponding  classes  in  the  days  of  their  national 
independence.  They  not  only  delighted  in  discussion  and 
wrangling,  but  they  showed  the  same  ardent  love  of  knowl- 
edge, the  same  passion  for  novelty,  the  same  readiness  of  intel- 
lectual apprehension,  the  same  fervid  eloquence,  which  had 
marked  their  predecessors.  Their  municipal  institutions  re- 
mained mostly  unchanged.  The  local  administration  of  local 
atfairs  still  gave  some  scope  to  the  old  consciousness  of  activity, 
and  was  one  of  the  causes  which  prevented  the  absorption  of 
Greece  into  the  overgrown  body  of  the  Roman  empire.  It 
was  one  of  the  secrets,  too,  of  the  permanence  of  the  Greek 
race,  —  the  only  race  which  has  come  down  with  its  language, 
character,  and  physical  peculiarities  from  the  classical  ages  to 
our  own.  It  was  also  one  of  the  causes  of  the  elasticity  with 
which  they  recovered  themselves  after  so  many  disastrous  over- 
throws. The  schools  of  philosophy  continued  until  they  were 
suppressed  by  Justinian,  in  the  sixth  century.     The  fortunes 


THE   ALEXANDRIAN   PERIOD.  249 

of  the  city  during  these  ages  ;  the  slaughters  by  Sylla ;  the 
gleams  of  happiness  under  Hadrian ;  the  assaults  by  the  Goths 
from  the  northern,  and  the  Scandinavians  from  the  eastern 
shore  of  the  Hellespont,  in  the  third  century ;  the  revival  of 
letters  in  the  fourth  ;  the  whirlwind  of  invasion  in  which  Alaric 
and  Attila  swept  over  the  land;  the  introduction  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  the  gradual  decay  of  pagan  rites  and  the  appropriation 
of  temple-property  to  private  uses ;  the  conflicts  between  the 
new  religion  and  the  old ;  the  manner  in  which  the  Christian 
Church,  by  its  liberal  principles  and  harmonizing  interests, 
gained  upon  heathenism  in  the  favor  of  the  people,  borrowing 
its  designation  of  ecclesia  from  the  old  political  assembly,  and 
many  portions  of  its  ritual  from  the  old  national  festivities,  and 
so  getting  a  hold  upon  the  popular  affection  ;  the  formation  of 
Christian  communities  upon  a  free  and  democratic  basis,  which 
so  continued  until  the  religion  was  raised  to  the  imperial  throne 
and  became  an  organ  of  statecraft,  and  its  bishops  and  patri- 
archs surrounded  themselves  with  the  pomps  and  gauds  of  this 
world ;  —  all  these  features  in  the  history  of  Greece,  and  espe- 
cially of  Athens,  until  country  and  city  disappear  almost  from 
sight  for  many  centuries,  —  from  the  sixth  to  the  thirteenth,  — 
constitute  a  story  of  melancholy  interest,  and  teach  an  impres- 
sive lesson  of  the  vicissitudes  of  human  affairs. 

The  Ptolemies,  who  succeeded  to  that  portion  of  Alexander's 
empire  which  included  Egypt  a  little  more  than  three  centu- 
ries B.  C,  found  Egyptian  schools  of  art,  science,  and  poetry 
still  existing  in  Thebes,  Memphis,  and  Heliopolis.  On  these 
institutions  they  engrafted  schools  formed  after  the  model  of 
those  in  Athens.  The  distinction  in  principle  was  this:  the 
old  Egyptian  schools  were  connected  with  the  temples  and 
the  priesthood;  the  Greek  schools  were,  until  after  the  Alex- 
andrian age,  wholly  independent  both  of  the  priests  and  the 
state,  subject  only  to  the  general  supervision  of  the  magistrate, 
like  every  other  institution,  —  in  other  words,  science  and  the 
popular  religion  were  complete^  separated.  The  aim  of  the 
Ptolemies  was  to  unite  the  science,  literature,  and  poetry  of 


250  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

the  Greeks  under  an  Egyptian  organization,  supported  at  the 
expense  of  the  state,  and  subject  to  its  control.  And  when,  just 
before  the  commencement  of  our  era,  the  Roman  domination 
succeeded  to  the  Macedonian,  the  emperors  respected  the  in- 
stitutions founded  by  the  Greeks,  and  the  schools  of  learning, 
—  the  Museum,  the  Serapeion,  the  Brucheium,  and  the  libra- 
ries. Literature,  science,  poetry,  theology,  in  the  schools  of 
Pagans,  Jews,  Christians,  acting  and  reacting  upon  one  anoth- 
er, blending  large  Oriental  elements  with  the  doctrines  of  the 
West,  mingling  Neo-Platonism  with  Christianity,  give  a  motley 
aspect  to  this  chapter  of  the  history  of  the  human  mind. 

I  have  time  to  notice  only  some  of  the  points  in  the  history 
of  Greek  poetry  here,  and  that  too  very  briefly ;  tor  the  lead- 
ing characteristics  of  these  centuries  are  the  study  and  criti- 
cism of  the  old  authors,  the  investigations  of  philosophy,  and 
the  accumulation  and  classification  of  the  facts  of  science.  I 
think  that  injustice  has  always  been  done  to  the  talent  and 
industry  displayed  in  this  age,  because  men  are  too  apt  to 
compare  it  in  one  point  alone  —  that  of  original  creation  in 
poetry  —  with  the  illustrious  ages  which  preceded  it.  The 
time  mode  of  comparison  would  be  to  take  the  whole  intel- 
lectual activity  of  both  periods,  and  to  weigh  against  each  other 
the  positive  results  as  well  as  the  refinements  of  literature  and 
art.  That  modification  of  the  Greek  language  called  the  Later 
Attic,  or  Hellenistic,  had  become  the  organ  of  civilization  all 
over  the  world ;  and  it  is  true  that  most  of  the  poetry  was  imi- 
tative rather  than  original. 

Callimachus,  born  in  Cyrene  about  280  B.  C,  was  keeper 
of  the  Alexandrian  Library,  and  wrote  various  poems,  of  which 
six  hymns  and  a  few  epigrams  remain. 

Theocritus  of  Syracuse,  the  most  original  poet  of  this  cen- 
tury, carried  pastoral  poetry  to  its  highest  perfection  in  the 
Sicilian-Doric  dialect.  This  was  founded  on  the  rustic  life  of 
the  beautiful  island  of  Sicily,  and  therefore,  breathing  as  it 
does  a  fine  truth  to  nature  in  the  poems  of  Theocritus,  it  has 
a  value  and  an  effect  quite  different  from  the  solemn  and  silly 


THE   ALEXANDRIAN  PERIOD.  251 

Eclogues  of  Virgil,  and  still  more  so  from  the  nauseating  and 
detestable  sentimentality  of  modern  pastorals.  The  most  en- 
tertaining among  the  pieces  of  Theocritus  now  extant  is  the 
gossiping  dialogue  of  half  a  dozen  women  of  the  middle  class, 
at  a  festival  held  by  the  Queen  of  Egypt. 

Apollonius,  though  born  in  Egypt,  called  the  Rhodian  from 
his  long  residence  in  Rhodes,  lived  from  235  to  194  B.  C,  and 
is  known  chiefly  as  the  author  of  the  Argonautica,  an  heroic 
poem  that  contains  passages  of  great  descriptive  beauty. 

Aratus,  the  author  of  an  astronomical  poem,  a  work  of  much 
merit  in  its  way,  belongs  to  this  age. 

In  general,  there  was  at  this  period  a  want  of  taste,  and  an 
abundance  of  glitter,  far-fetched  ornament,  and  conceit.  These 
faults  were  carried  so  far  that  many  poems  were  composed  in 
lines  of  varying  lengths,  so  as  to  represent  the  forms  of  axes, 
altars,  birds,  eggs,  and  the  like.  Some  of  the  most  famous 
writers  cultivated  obscurity  as  successfully  as  the  transcen- 
dental poets  of  our  own  time.  Lycophron,  whose  dramatic 
writings  gave  him  a  place  in  the  tragic  Pleiad  of  his  age, 
wrote  a  poem  called  Cassandra,  in  fourteen  hundred  and  sev- 
enty-four iambic  verses,  so  desperately  involved  and  obscure 
that  even  his  countrymen  gave  him  the  nickname  of  aicoTeivos, 
or  the  darksome.  We  have  reason  to  thank  Heaven  that  not 
one  of  his  four-and-sixty  tragedies  has  come  down  to  torment 
us ;  only  four  lines  out  of  this  accumulation  of  Egyptian  dark- 
ness have  been  preserved  by  Stobaeus.  The  truth  is,  the  old 
spirit  of  Greek  popular  life,  the  animating  sentiment  of  liberty, 
had  long  since  departed,  and  the  poetical  genius  of  the  race  had 
died  with  it,  or  fallen  into  a  deathlike  trance  to  endure  for  the 
ages  of  thraldom. 

Imitative  poetry  continued,  however,  to  be  written.  In  the 
"ifth  century  flourished  Musaeus,  author  of  a  short  epic  poem 
on  the  stor}'  of  Hero  and  Leander,  in  which  the  ponderous 
compound  adjectives,  more  than  the  storm  and  the  sea,  carry 
the  swimming  Jover  to  the  bottcm.  Coluthus  of  Lycopolis, 
*:arly  in  the  sixth  century,  wrote  a  poem  in  imitation  of  the 


252  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND  POETRY. 

Homeric  style,  on  the  carrying  off  of  Helen,  —  very  dull. 
Tryphiodorus  wrote  one  on  the  destruction  of  Troy,  —  duller 
still.  Quintus  Smyrnseus  wrote  one  in  fourteen  books,  on  the 
portions  of  the  story  omitted  by  Homer ;  it  would  have  been 
wise  had  he  omitted  them  too.  The  series  of  Egyptian  Greek 
writers  closes  with  the  conquest  of  Egypt  by  the  Saracens  in 
the  seventh  century;  and  it  was  high  time,  for  the  stock  had 
run  out  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile. 

The  influence  of  the  Greek  Church,  the  writings  of  the  eailv 
fathers,  the  ritual  formed  between  the  fourth  and  the  seventh 
century,  and  the  hymns  chanted  in  the  service,  imitated  partly 
from  the  Jewish  Psalms  and  partly  from  the  Greek  poets, 
tended  powerfully  to  preserve  the  language  through  the  Byzan- 
tine period,  and  down  to  our  times.  Byzantium  was  originally 
a  Doric  colony,  as  appears  from  historical  facts,  inscriptions, 
and  documents,  such  as  the  public  decrees  quoted  by  Demos- 
thenes in  the  oration  on  the  Crown.  Its  position  on  the  Bos- 
porus, between  Asia  and  Europe,  early  made  it  a  point  of  great 
commercial  and  military  importance.  Early  in  the  fourth 
century  it  became,  under  Constantine,  the  capital  of  the  Ro- 
man empire  and  the  centre  of  the  Christian  religion.  The 
first  Constantinopolitan  emperors  endeavored  to  make  it  Ro- 
man in  language,  manners,  and  character;  but  their  success 
was  only  partial.  The  sycophancy  of  the  courtly  circles  led 
them  to  comply  with  the  imperial  wishes ;  they  abandoned 
the  name  of  Hellenes  or  Greeks,  and  assumed  that  of  Peofiaioi, 
or  Romans ;  and  the  Greek  language,  modified  to  some  ex- 
tent by  the  Latin,  whence  it  had  borrowed  many  words, 
especially  legal  terms  and  ceremonious  titles,  was  called  Ro- 
maic, down  to  the  late  Greek  Revolution.  But  the  people, 
the  Church  with  the  exception  of  the  highest  dignitaries,  and 
a  large  part  of  the  educated  classes,  both  in  the  capital  ana 
throughout  Greece,  refused  to  Romanize,  adhered  to  their 
nationality,  and  continued  to  cultivate  their  old  Hellenic  tastes. 
The  separation  was  increased  by  the  division  of  the  empire 
near  the  close  of  the  fourth  century,  and  by  the  controversiei 


THE  BYZANTINE   PERIOD.  253 

waged  between  the  Eastern  and  Western  Churches  on  the  pro- 
cession of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  the  worship  of  images,  until  the 
Pope  of  Rome  and  the  Patriarch  of  Constantinople  regarded 
each  other  as  damnable  heretics.  From  the  fifth  century  Con- 
stantinople was  the  principal  centre  of  Greek  learning;  but 
it  will  be  seen  from  the  brief  sketches  already  given,  that  for 
more  than  a  century  there  were  three  rival  seats  of  culture,  — 
Athens,  Alexandria,  and  Byzantium. 

The  literature  of  the  Byzantine  period,  which  lasted  until 
the  conquest  by  the  Turks  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, divides  itself  into  two  main  branches,  —  the  historical  and 
the  theological ;  the  former  consisting  of  a  series  of  writers  from 
the  fourth  to  the  sixteenth  century,  the  latter  beginning  prop- 
erly before  the  Byzantine  age,  and  extending  to  the  twelfth 
century.  Among  these  writers  were  a  few  poets ;  for  the 
taste  for  poetry  had  not  wholly  disappeared.  Even  the  old 
Athenian  drama  was  partially  revived  on  the  Byzantine  stage. 
The  plays  of  jEschylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides  were  for  a 
time  brought  upon  the  boards ;  but  the  circumstances  which 
gave  them  interest  had  long  ceased  to  exist,  and  the  coarser 
taste  for  spectacles,  dancing  women,  and  exhibitions  of  animals 
supplanted  the  legitimate  drama,  and  made  the  theatres  the 
scenes  of  vulgar  debauchery.  This  state  of  things  drew  down 
the  censures  of  the  Church.  In  the  first  Councils,  the  ecclesi- 
astics launched  their  anathemas  against  the  play-houses  and  the 
actors ;  but  finding  the  thunders  of  the  Church  of  little  effect 
to  stay  the  growing  evil,  they  determined  to  fight  the  Devil 
with  his  own  weapons,  and  to  draw  the  people  away  from  the 
worldly  shows  by  the  superior  attractions  of  dramatic  enter- 
tainments in  the  churches  on  sacred  themes.  This  is  the 
origin  of  those  curious  and  absurd  theatrical  compositions  on 
Scriptural  subjects,  called  Mysteries  and  Miracle-plays,  which 
in  all  the  countries  of  Europe  preceded  the  modern  drama. 
The  sketch  of  a  Miracle-play  in  Mr.  Longfellow's  Golden 
Legend  is  a  most  faithful  representation  of  these  ecclesiastical 
performances  in  the  Middle  Ag  >s. 


254  THE   GREEK   LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

Passing  over  the  chants  which  form  part  of  the  Liturgy  of 
the  Greek  Church,  and  which  date  from  about  the  seventh 
century,  tiiat  is,  near  the  time  when  the  element  of  quantity, 
though  still  employed  as  a  matter  of  art  and  study,  had  yet 
nearly  ceased  to  have  a  vital  connection  with  the  spoken  lan- 
guage, the  earliest  Christian  poet,  whose  works  are  entitled  to 
notice,  is  Synesius,  who  flourished  at  the  end  of  the  fourth 
century.  At  first  he  belonged  to  the  school  of  the  Neo-Pla- 
tonists,  but  was  converted  to  Christianity,  and,  though  mar- 
ried, was  made  Bishop  of  Ptolemais  by  Theophilus,  the  Patri- 
arch of  Alexandria.  His  principal  writings  were  ecclesiastical, 
and  have  held  a  high  rank  for  purity  and  elegance.  He  wrote 
a  few  epigrams,  and  there  are  remaining  ten  of  his  hymns. 
These  are  written  in  the  rhythm  known  as  Anacreontic,  which 
has  a  singular  effect  contrasted  with  the  solemnity  of  the  sub- 
ject, analogous  to  the  frisky  measures  in  which  the  hymns 
of  the  Latin  Church  are  so  inappropriately  written.  Some  of 
these  pieces  are  very  long.  They  do  not  contain  many  passages 
of  vigorous  imagination,  or  much  felicity  of  expression  or  clear- 
ness of  thought ;  but  they  are  the  outpouring  of  a  pious  heart, 
filled  with  the  love  of  God,  delighting  in  endless  ascriptions  of 
praise  and  glory,  and  finally  vanishing  beyond  all  mortal  com- 
prehension in  a  golden-glowing  mist  of  Platonic  and  super- 
substantial  transcendentalism.    The  first  hymn  opens  :  — 

"  Come,  my  sweet-toned  harp, 
After  the  Teian  song, 
After  the  Lesbian  strain, 
On  loftier  themes  henceforth 
Resound  the  Dorian  song; 
Not  of  tender  maidens, 
Smiling  the  smile  of  love, 
Nor  of  youths  fresh-blooming, 
The  soft  attractive  charms ; 
For  the  offspring  unpolluted 
Of  God-producing  wisdom 
Impels  me  to  a  strain  divine 
To  strike  the  cithern's  chords, 
And  bids  me  fly  the  cares 
Of  sweet,  but  earthly  loves" 


THE  BYZANTINE   PERIOD.  255 

Thus  begins  the  second,  — a  morning  hymn  :  — 

"  Again  the  light,  again  the  morning, 
Again  the  day  abroad  is  shining, 
After  the  nightly-wandering  shades ; 
Again,  my  soul,  thy  prayer  lift  up 
To  God  in  morning  hymns, 
Who  gave  the  light  to  morning, 
Who  gave  the  stars  to  evening, 
The  universal  choir. 

All  things  upon  thy  will 

Depend  ;  thou  art  the  root 

Of  present  and  of  past, 

Of  all  around,  of  all  within  ; 

Thou  art  father,  thou  art  mother ; 

Thou  art  male,  thou  art  female  ; 

Thou  art  voice,  thou  art  silence  ; 

Thou  art  nature's  nature  fruitful ; 

Thou  art  king,  the  life  of  life, 

So  far  as  human  voice  may  speak  thee. 

All  hail,  of  earth  the  root, 

All  hail,  of  all  things  centre, 

Immortal  numbers'  unity, 

The  unsubstantial  kings  —  " 

And  here,  as  we  are  getting  into  the  foggy  land  of  No-meaning, 
we  will  pause.  This  style  is  characteristic  of  the  poetry  of  the 
early  Christians  generally,  so  far  as  I  am  acquainted  with  it. 
The  Greek  language  here  is  in  imitation  of  the  later  lyric,  and 
flows  as  easily  as  the  Anacreontic,  with  which  I  have  already 
compared  it. 

The  next  poet  of  whom  I  shall  speak  is  quite  a  different 
person,  Paul  the  Silentiary.  This  title  was  an  official  one  at  the 
court  of  the  Byzantine  emperors,  nearly  equivalent  to  Privy- 
Councillor,  although  in  the  earlier  classical  Latin  it  meant 
confidential  servant.  He  lived  towards  the  end  of  the  sixth 
century,  and  is  known  as  the  author  of  a  minute  and  elegant 
description,  chiefly  in  hexameters,  of  the  church  of  Saint 
Sophia.  This,  however,  is  distinguished  rather  for  ready  flow 
of  rhythm  and  for  architectural  accuracy,  than   for  poetical 


256  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

sentiment.  In  fact,  it  was  an  occasional  poem,  delivered  by 
the  author  at  the  second  dedication  of  the  church,  after  the 
dome  which  had  fallen  in  was  repaired,  in  562.  Besides  this 
and  another  similar  poem,  he  wrote  epigrams,  of  which  eighty- 
three  have  been  preserved.  They  are  generally  love-poems. 
In  one  of  them,  the  Privy-Councillor  says  that  Cupid  has 
poured  upon  him  a  whole  quiver-full  of  arrows ;  and  if  one 
half  of  what  he  says  of  himself  is  true,  he  was  as  combustible 
as  if  he  had  been  made  of  gun-cotton.  I  copy  one  of  the  least 
explosive,  "  On  the  Insupportableness  of  Absence." 

"  When  I  left  thee,  love,  I  swore 

Not  to  see  that  face  again, 
For  a  fortnight's  space  or  more ; 

But  the  cruel  oath  was  vain, 
Since  the  next  day  I  spent  from  thee 
Was  a  long  year  of  misery. 

O,  then,  for  thy  lover  pray 

Every  gentler  deity 
Not  in  too  nice  scales  to  weigh 

His  constrained  perjury. 
Thou,  too,  O  pity  his  despair ! 
Heaven's  rage  and  thine  he  cannot  bear." 

Here  is  another  poem  in   which  he  describes  a  mishap  in 
»ne  of  his  adventures. 

"  The  voice  of  the  song  and  the  banquet  were  o'er, 
And  I  hung  up  my  chaplet  at  Glycera's  door, 
When  the  mischievous  girl,  from  a  window  above, 
Who  looked  down  and  laughed  at  the  offering  of  love, 
Filled  with  water  a  goblet  whence  Bacchus  had  fled, 
And  poured  all  the  crystal  contents  on  my  head. 
So  drenched  was  my  hair,  three  whole  days  it  resisted 
All  attempts  of  the  barber  to  friz  it  or  twist  it ; 
But  water,  —  so  whimsical,  love,  are  thy  ways  !  — 
While  it  put  out  my  curls,  set  my  heart  in  a  blaze." 

A.  pretty  story  for  the  Emperor's  Privy-Councillor  I 

I  will  now  read  a  short  poem  on  a  Portrait  of  Sappho,  b* 
Oemocharis,  who  lived  in  the  same  age. 


THE   BYZANTINE   PERIOD.  2.57 

1  Nature  herself  this  magic  portrait  drew, 
And,  painter,  gave  thy  Lesbian  Muse  to  view. 
Light  sparkles  in  her  eyes ;  and  fancy  seems 
The  radiant  fountain  of  those  living  beams. 
Through  the  smooth  fulness  of  the  unclouded  skin 
Looks  out  the  clear  ingenuous  soul  within ; 
Joy  melts  to  fondness  in  her  glistening  face, 
And  love  and  music  breathe  a  mingled  grace." 

Early  in  the  seventh  century,  in  the  reign  of  the  Emperor 
Heraclius,  lived  George  the  Pisidian,  who  wrote  in  iambics 
an  account  of  that  Emperor's  Persian  expedition.  As  he  was 
an  eyewitness  of  what  he  relates,  his  work  has  an  historical 
value,  and  is  included  in  the  collections  of  the  Byzantine 
writers.  It  is  divided  into  three  cantos,  or  hearings.  After  a 
prodigiously  long  introduction,  he  thus  enters  upon  his  subject, 
addressing  the  Emperor :  — 

«•  The  shadowy  night  of  hostile  armies  spread 
O'er  all  the  earth  by  men  inhabited ; 
For  Persian  lust,  still  eager  for  its  prey, 
With  sateless  passion,  still  desired  to  slay ; 
But  thou,  beneath  the  evening's  falling  shade, 
Thyself  hast  ne'er  to  balmy  sleep  betrayed." 

Perhaps  so ;  but  if  these  hearings  were  as  hard  as  the  read- 
ing, I  venture  to  say  His  Majesty  more  than  once  betrayed 
himself  to  balmy  sleep  while  struggling  to  listen  to  them. 

From  this  time  forwrard,  though  the  educated  Greeks,  at 
Constantinople  and  elsewhere,  continued  to  study  and  write 
the  classical  language,  still  the  changes  in  its  structure  rapidly 
increased,  and  literary  taste  declined  with  the  general  decline 
of  art  following  the  iconoclastic  fanaticism,  which  was  more 
destructive  to  the  rich  legacies  of  ancient  genius  than  all  the 
visitations  of  Goths,  Visigoths,  and  Huns.  The  observance 
of  quantity  had  long  been  gradually  disappearing;  and  soon 
after  the  seventh  century  it  seems  to  have  wholly  vanished 
from  the  spoken  language,  though,  as  a  matter  of  learned  prac 
rice  and  scholastic  exercise,  it  has  always  continued  to  be  stud- 
ied.    The  spoken  language,  thus  deprived  of  the  musical  ele- 

VOL.    I.  17 


258  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   POETRY. 

ment  of  time,  and  regulated  entirely  by  accent,  had  quite 
developed  its  new  rhythms  and  idioms  in  the  twelfth  century, 
—  a  period  of  very  peculiar  literary  character,  whose  principal 
representatives  are  Constantine  Manasses,  Tzetzes,  and  The- 
odoras Ptochoprodromus.  The  first  wrote  a  versified  chron- 
icle from  the  creation  of  the  wOrld  down  to  Alexis  I.,  in  an- 
cient Greek,  but  with  the  rhythm  wholly  accentual.  The 
second  wrote  hexameter  poems  in  imitation  of  Homer,  and  a 
gossiping  sort  of  historical  work,  in  accentual  measure,  called 
the  Chiliads.  He  was  a  very  learned  man,  and  inordinately 
vain,  boasting  that  he  wrote  his  verses  with  the  speed  of  light- 
ning which  accounts  for  their  being  such  uncommonly  slow 
reading.  The  last,  Theodoras  Ptochoprodromus,  is  a  more 
hearty  and  interesting  personage.  He  was  a  scholar  of  high 
repute,  and  in  acknowledgment  of  his  abilities  and  learning 
received  the  title  of  Kvpios,  or  Master.  His  writings  are  nu- 
merous, both  in  prose  and  verse.  Among  them  is  a  metrical 
romance,  said  to  be  dull ;  but  as  I  have  never  read  it,  I  will  not 
express  an  opinion  upon  it.  He  wrote  also  an  iambic  poem,  of 
some  wit,  in  imitation  of  the  Battle  of  the  Frogs  and  Mice, 
called  the  Galeomyomachia,  or  War  of  the  Cat  and  the  Mice, 
in  which,  the  cat  being  killed  by  a  decayed  piece  of  timber  fall- 
ing from  the  roof  of  a  house,  the  mice  are  of  course  the  vic- 
tors, though  with  heavy  losses.  The  messenger,  who  describes 
the  battle,  says :  — 

"  First  has  fallen  the  satrap  of  the  nation, 
Cramb-picker ;  next  to  him  Bone-stealer  breathed 
His  last." 

But  he  is  chiefly  remarkable  for  having  written  the  earliest 
poem  in  modern  Greek  that  has  been  published.  A  few  lines 
at  the  beginning,  and  a  few  at  the  end,  are  in  the  ancient  lan- 
guage and  rhythm,  but  all  the  rest  is  in  the  accentual  iambic 
tetrameter,  like  the  Chiliads  of  Tzetzes.  It  is  addressed  to  the 
Emperor  Manuel  Comnenus,  and  is  chiefly  occupied  with  com 
plaints  of  the  needy  and  neglected  condition  of  men  of  letters 
in  that  age.  Near  the  beginning,  there  is  a  figure  which 
Ooraes  calls  poetical,  elegant,  and  worthv  of  a  better  ac° 


THE   BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  2t>9 

"  For  thou  the  ^aveless  harbor  art  of  those  who  've  fled  for  refuge, 
And  scarce  had  I  the  sea  escaped  of  briny-bitter  sorrow, 
When  I  attained  the  blessed  sea  of  thy  great  benefaction ; 
For  thou  the  fount  of  pity  art,  and  thou  the  grace  of  graces." 

He  laments  that,  over-persuaded  by  his  father,  he  had  de- 
voted himself  to  letters,  instead  of  some  handicraft.  "  From 
childhood,  my  old  father  used  to  say  to  me,  '  My  son,  learn  let- 
ters, if  thou  wouldst  prosper.  Seest  yonder  man,  my  son  ?  He 
used  to  walk  on  foot ;  and  now  he  wears  his  golden  spurs,  rides 
his  fat  mule,  and  a  horse  splendidly  caparisoned ;  —  he  used 
to  have  no  shoes ;  and  now,  thou  seest,  he  wears  his  pointed 
sandals  ;  —  when  he  was  a  youth,  he  never  saw  the  threshold 
of  the  bath  ;  and  now  he  takes  the  bath  three  times  a  week.'  " 
And  so  the  good  father  carries  the  argument  out.  "  And 
when,  0  king,  I  heard  the  old  man  my  father,  (for  holy  Scrip- 
ture says,  '  Obey  your  parents,')  I  learned  letters,  but  with 
how  much  toil !  And  ever  since  I  became  a  scholar,  I  want  a 
crust,  a  mouthful,  or  even  a  crumb ;  and  on  account  of  my 
hunger  and  my  poverty,  I  curse  learning,  and  wail,  and  cry, 
'  Accursed  be  letters ;  accursed  be  the  time  and  the  day  when 
they  sent  me  to  school,  that  I  might  get  learning,  and  my  liv- 
ing from  it.' "  He  then  contrasts  his  own  condition  with  what 
it  would  have  been  had  he  made  himself  a  fashionable  tailor. 
Then  his  cupboard  would  have  been  full  of  bread,  and  wine, 
and  meat;  now,  he  opens  "one  cupboard,  —  nothing  but  pa- 
per; another, —  bags  of  letters;  another, — writings  still,"  — 
and  so  on. 

In  this  age,  then,  just  before  the  overthrow  of  the  Byzantine 
empire  by  the  Latins,  —  the  age  of  Anna  Comnena,  —  and  in 
the  literary  circle  assembled  in  her  palace,  in  all  respects  the 
most  brilliant  society  of  the  twelfth  century,  there  was  still 
something  of  poetical  composition,  though  not  much  original- 
ity. And  there  was  this  extraordinary  phenomenon,  that  the 
writers  adopted  either  the  ancient  language,  with  all  its  rhyth- 
mical principles  or  with  the  accentual  system,  or  the  Romaic 
with  the  accentual  system.      Here  is  the  point  where  the  old 


260         THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND  POETRY. 

and  the  new  come  together;   but  the  old  is  for  the  scholars, 
the  new  is  the  language  of  the  people. 

During  this  time,  the  mainland  of  Greece,  Athens  especially, 
remained  sunk  in  the  deepest  obscurity.  In  an  historical  point 
of  view,  it  has  a  sad  interest ;  in  a  literary  aspect,  there  is 
nothing  to  be  said,  except  that  the  Athenians,  in  the  midst  of 
poverty  and  political  insignificance,  shifted  about  from  master 
to  master,  an  easy  prey  of  barbarians,  a  century  or  two  later 
of  crusaders,  Venetians,  Florentines,  Catalans,  and  pirates,  still 
retained,  as  we  learn  from  the  few  notices  we  have  of  them 
from  their  contemporaries,  the  same  ready  and  flexible  talents 
that  distinguished  their  ancestors. 

The  overthrow  of  the  Byzantine  empire  and  the  establish 
ment  of  the  empire  of  Romania,  in  the  thirteenth  century, 
again  connected  the  East  with  the  West,  disastrously  for  the 
former ;  for  again  the  arts  and  the  literature  treasured  in 
Byzantium  suffered  irreparable  losses  from  worse  than  bar- 
barian hands,  by  wanton  conflagration,  by  pillage,  and  by 
brutal  fanaticism.  The  Dukedom  of  Athens,  which  lasted  from 
the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  to  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  under  the  houses  of  De  la  Roche  and  De  Brienne,  the 
Grand  Catalan  Company  of  Aragon,  and  the  Florentine  Acci- 
auoli,  presented  a  faint  mediaeval  reflex  of  former  prosperity  ; 
and  the  annals  of  this  period,  known  in  Western  Europe  at  the 
dawn  of  modern  poetry,  suggested  to  Chaucer,  Dante,  and 
Shakespeare  the  title  of  Duke  of  Athens,  bestowed  by  them 
on  the  ancient  Theseus. 

The  capture  of  Constantinople,  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
entury,  put  an  end  to  the  Byzantine  period ;  and  the  exten- 
sion of  the  Turkish  conquest  soon  after  over  the  greater  part 
of  Greece  proper  introduced  the  reign  of  barbarism  over  those 
plassic  regions. 

But  among  the  mountain  fastnesses  of  the  North,  especially 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Olympus  and  Pindus,  the  descendants 
of  the  old  ^Eolian  and  Dorian  tribes  preserved  themselves  un 
mixed  and  unsubdued      Although  the  language,  here  as  else- 


MODERN    GREEK   POETRY.  2b'l 

whjie,  had  lost  its  ancient  character,  and  had  become  assimi- 
lated in  general  structure  to  the  modern  languages,  still  it  had 
suffered  less  corruption  on  the  one  hand  from  the  early  Slavo- 
nian colonies  between  the  sixth  and  tenth  centuries,  and  recently 
trom  the  Turkish,  and  on  the  other  from  the  Italian,  than  any 
other  of  the  seventy  dialects  spoken  in  Greece  in  the  day  of 
her  degradation.  The  language,  however,  in  all  these  forms, 
is  substantially  and  radically  the  same  as  the  ancient ;  and  it 
has  been  greatly  improved,  within  the  last  half-centuiy,  by 
educated  writers,  who  have  endeavored  to  fix  the  principles  of 
its  grammar,  to  remove  the  barbarous  additions  from  the  Sla- 
vonic dialects  and  the  Turkish,  and  to  substitute  for  the  Italian 
idioms  words  and  idioms  drawn  from  the  old  Greek.  It  is  true, 
the  scholars  of  Greece  have  been,  and  still  are,  much  divided 
us  to  the  expediency  of  founding  style  on  popular  usage,  or  of 
restoring  as  far  as  possible  the  lost  forms  of  the  ancient  tongue. 
A  middle  course  is  likely  to  be  followed ;  at  any  rate,  the  ques- 
tion will  be  definitely  settled  as  soon  as  a  great  poet  arises  to 
stamp  the  language  with  his  own  immortality. 

Meantime,  during  the  last  century  and  the  present,  espe- 
cially since  the  Greek  Revolution,  a  very  considerable  litera- 
ture, in  prose  and  poetry,  has  enriched  the  language.  Dra- 
matic and  lyric  poetry  have  something  to  offer  worth  the  schol- 
ar's attention.  Of  the  former,  the  plays  of  Rizos,  though  not 
entitled  to  a  high  rank,  have  a  certain  classical  finish.  His 
Aspasia  has  been  republished  in  this  country,  —  a  tragedy  the 
scene  of  which  is  laid  in  the  time  of  the  Plague  of  Athens, 
the  personages  being  Pericles,  Aspasia,  Socrates,  and  other 
well-known  names.  The  effect  of  the  patriotic  songs  of  Rhigas, 
the  gallant  Thessalian  chief  who  was  handed  over  by  Austrian 
treachery  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  Turks,  is  well  known, 
itid  has  become  historical.  The  gay  lyrics  of  Christopoulos 
breathe  the  freshness  of  nature  and  the  spirit  of  the  old  ^Eolian 
enjoyment  of  life,  and  are  far  superior  in  delicacy  of  feeling 
and  true  poetical  insight  to  the  poems  which  pass  under  the 
name  of  Anacreon.     Michael  Perdicares,   Kalvos,  Alexander 


262  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   POETRY. 

Soutsos,  and  Salomos,  author  of  a  famous  Ode  to  Liberty,  ar<« 
well  known  to  their  countrymen,  and  not  unknown  to  others. 
These  are  all  the  recent  poets  with  whose  works  I  have  had 
an  opportunity  to  become  acquainted. 

But  doubtless  the  most  characteristic  and  original  composi- 
tions are  those  of  the  mountaineers  and  islanders  to  whom  I 
have  already  referred,  chiefly  the  former.  These  tribes  are 
Known  as  Klephts  and  Armatoles,  —  the  former  wholly  inde- 
pendent during  the  Turkish  dominion ;  the  latter  partially  ac- 
knowledging the  Turkish  authorities,  and  having  some  sore 
of  nominal  organization  under  them.  The  Klephts,  under  the 
leadership  of  their  captains,  who  bore  a  strong  family  likeness  to 
the  personages  of  the  heroic  age  from  the  same  neighborhood, 
seized  every  opportunity  of  dashing  down  upon  Turkish  villages 
and  camps,  killing  and  plundering,  and  climbing  back  again  to 
their  rocky  habitations  before  the  enemy  could  rally  for  pursuit. 
These  semi-barbaric  heroes,  retaining  many  of  the  customs, 
superstitions,  and  traditions  of  ancient  times,  were  the  most 
formidable  assailants  of  the  Turks  during  the  war  of  the  Revo- 
lution ;  but  when  the  war  was  over,  they  gave  the  government 
much  trouble  in  reducing  them  to  obedience  and  the  usages 
of  civilized  life.  But  the  point  of  singular  interest  in  them  is 
their  strong  sensibility  to  poetry,  and  their  facility  in  compo- 
sition. They  were  found  to  possess  a  body  of  poetical  liter- 
ature consisting  chiefly  of  Dirges,  strongly  resembling  the 
funeral  laments  as  far  back  as  Homer,  and  of  a  very  peculiar 
species  of  ballad,  highly  picturesque  and  characteristic  of  their 
mode  of  life.  Like  the  earliest  epic  songs  of  Greece,  these  poems 
were  composed  —  not  written  —  to  be  sung,  and  were  handed 
down  by  oral  tradition.  They  were  first  written,  from  the  lips 
of  those  to  whom  they  had  descended  as  a  poetical  heirloom, 
by  a  French  scholar,  M.  Fauriel,  who  published  two  volumes 
of  them  in  1824.  It  is  surprising  how  well  he  accomplished 
his  task,  considering  that  he  was  a  foreigner,  and  depended  on 
the  ear  alone.  Still  his  text  is  marred  by  numerous  errors, 
ind  in  some  of  the  poems  there  are  important  omissions,  which 


MODERN  GREEK  POETRY.  263 

injure  the  sense,  and  make  them  appear  more  abrupt  than  they 
really  are,  though  they  are  sufficiently  so  in  their  complete 
form.  A  year  or  two  ago  my  friend  and  colleague,  Mr. 
Sophocles,  revisited  his  native  country,  and  took  occasion  to 
revise  the  text  of  Fauriel  —  which  he  had  partly  done  before 
from  his  own  recollection  —  by  comparing  the  poems  as  printed 
with  the  recollection  of  aged  people  in  the  North  of  Greece. 
In  this  way  several  of  the  finest  of  them  have  been  much 
amended  and  improved ;  and  the  specimens  I  am  about  to 
read  I  have  translated  from  this  text.  The  rhythm  of  most 
of  them  is  the  unrhymed  iambic  tetrameter  catalectic,  like  that 
employed  in  the  twelfth  century. 

Among  the  traditional  ideas  changed  from  the  ancient  con- 
ceptions, and  adapted  to  the  circumstances  of  their  modern 
condition,  is  that  of  Charon,  the  old  ferryman  of  the  dead. 
Among  the  mountains  he  has  become  a  horseman,  who  gathers 
the  souls  of  the  departed,  and  gallops  with  them  over  the  hills 
to  the  place  of  rest.  This  idea  is  simply,  and  I  think  poetically, 
handled  in  the  following  ballad,  which  I  give  in  the  measure  of 
the  original. 

CHARON   AND    THE   GHOSTS. 

"  Why  are  the  mountains  shadowed  o'er?     Why  stand  they  mourning  darkly  1 
Is  it  a  tempest  warring  there,  or  rain-storm  beating  on  them  ? 
It  is  no  tempest  warring  there,  no  rain-storm  beating  on  them, 
But  Charon  sweeping  over  them,  and  with  him  the  departed. 
The  young  he  urges  on  before,  behind  the  elders  follow, 
And  tender  children  ranged  in  rows  are  carried  at  his  saddle : 
The  elders  call  imploringly,  the  young  are  him  beseeching. 

Ghosts. 
My  Charon,  at  the  hamlet  stop,  stop  by  the  cooling  fountain, 
That  from  the  spring  the  old  may  drink,  the  young  may  play  with  pebbles 
And  that  the  little  children  may  the  pretty  flowerets  gather. 

Charon. 
I  will  not  at  the  hamlet  stop,  nor  at  the  cooling  fountain ; 
For  mothers  meeting  at  the  spring  will  know  again  their  children, 
Ind  man  and  wife  each  other  know,  and  will  p-  more  be  parted." 


264  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE   AND   i'OETRY. 

My  next  specimen  is  quite  dramatic,  and  ferociously  warlike. 
It  breathes  the  fiercest  spirit  of  the  Pallicar,  or  Klephtic  hero. 
It  belongs  to  the  rough  regions  of  Mount  Olympus,  where  the 
Pallicars  had  some  of  their  inaccessible  strongholds.  A  dispute 
arises  between  Mount  Olympus  and  Kissavos,  the  ancient  Os- 
sa,  on  the  question  of  precedence  as  shown  by  snow  and  rain. 
The  suggesting  idea,  I  presume,  is  that  Ossa  feels  aggrieved 
because  Olympus,  on  account  of  his  northern  exposure,  is  the 
first  to  be  covered  with  snow.  The  personages  of  the  dialogue 
are  the  two  rival  mountains,  an  eagle,  and  the  head  of  a  slain 
warrior,  each  of  which  has  something  to  say  on  the  occasion. 

OLYMPUS  AND  KISSAVOS. 

"  Olympus  once  and  Kissavos,  two  neighboring  mounts,  contended 
Which  of  the  two  the  rain  should  pour,  and  which  shed  down  the  siiow-stonn 
And  Kissavos  pours  down  the  rain,  Olympus  sheds  the  snow-storm. 
Then  Kissavos  in  anger  turns,  and  speaks  to  proud  Olympus. 

Kissavos. 
Browbeat  me  not,  Olympus,  thou  by  robber-feet  betrampled ; 
For  I  am  Kissavos,  the  mount  in  far  Larissa  famous : 
I  am  the  joy  of  Turkestan,  and  of  Larissa's  Agas. 
Olympus  turned  him  then,  and  spake  to  Kissavos  in  anger. 

Olympus. 

Ha !  Kissavos,  ha !  renegade,  thou  Turk-betrampled  hillock ; 
The  Turks,  they  tread  thee  under  foot,  and  all  Larissa's  Agas ; 
I  am  Olympus,  he  of  old  renowned  the  world  all  over ; 
And  I  have  summits  forty-two,  and  two-and-sixty  fountains, 
And  every  fount  a  banner  has,  and  every  bough  a  robber, 
And  on  my  highest  summit's  top  an  eagle  fierce  is  sitting, 
And  holding  in  his  talons  clutched  a  head  of  slaughtered  warrior. 

Eagle. 
What  hast  thou  done,  0  head  of  mine,  of  what  hast  thou  been  guilty  ? 
How  came  the  chance  about  that  thou  art  clutched  within  my  talors? 

Head. 
Devour,  O  bird,  my  youthful  strength,  devour  my  manly  valor, 
And  let  thy  pinion  grow  an  ell,  a  span  thy  talon  lengthen. 
In  Luros  and  Xeromeros  I  was  an  Armatolos ; 
In  Chasia  and  Olympus  next,  twelve  years  I  was  a  robber  ; 
And  sixty  Agas  have  I  killed,  and  left  their  hamlets  burning 


MODERN   GREEK  POETRY.  265 

And  all  the  Turks  and  Albanese  that  on  the  field  of  battle 

My  hand  has  slain,  my  eagle  brave,  are  more  than  can  be  numbered  ; 

But  me  the  doom  befell  at  last,  to  perish  in  the  battle." 

From  Olympus  we  now  descend,  and,  crossing  the  ^Egean 
Sea,  return  to  the  birthplace  of  Homer  and  of  the  perfected 
epic,  —  to  Chios,  still  the  source  of  many  beautiful  compositions. 
As  we  began  with  the  Iliad,  in  setting  forth  from  this  beautiful 
and  famous  island,  so,  in  retracing  our  steps,  we  will  end  with 
a  Chian  ballad.  It  is  on  a  subject  which  has  gained  currency 
in  the  popular  poetry  of  many  nations,  but  which  perhaps  is 
treated  with  the  most  fulness  and  force  by  Burger,  in  the  bal- 
lad of  Lenore,  so  graphically  illustrated  by  Retsch.  It  is  a 
ride  by  night  of  the  living  with  the  dead.  The  Chian  poet's 
management  of  the  story  is  wholly  different  from  Burger's, 
and  his  rapid  style  is  a  curious  contrast  to  the  particularity  of 
description  in  the  German.  The  unknown  Chian  poet  seizes 
upon  the  main  ideas,  and  in  the  briefest,  most  hurried  manner 
hastens  to  the  conclusion,  as  if  a  ghost  were  after  him.  It  is 
dramatic,  chiefly,  in  its  form,  the  persons  being  the  bard,  a 
mother  who  has  nine  sons  and  one  daughter,  and  the  daugh- 
ter. Her  the  mother  has  nurtured  tenderly  and  secretly ;  but 
at  length  one  from  a  distant  land  —  from  Babylon,  which  since 
Aristophanes  has  been  the  type  of  distant  regions  —  seeks  her 
for  his  wife.  The  mother  reluctantly  consents,  overcome  by 
the  stranger's  entreaties  and  the  solicitations  of  her  son  Con- 
stantine,  who  promises  to  restore  her,  should  any  mishap  befall. 
The  other  brothers  resist.  It  is  a  superstition  among  these 
islanders,  and  I  believe  elsewhere,  that  birds  are  gifted  with 
the  power  of  seeing  ghosts.  This  superstition  explains  one  of 
the  features  of  the  piece,  the  part  taken  by  the  birds  in  the 
dialogue,  which  is  called 

THE   NIGHT  RIDE. 

"  Pobt. 
0  mother,  thon  with  thy  nine  sons,  and  with  one  only  daughter, 
Whom  in  the  darkness  thou  didst  bathe,  -n  light  didst  braid  her  tresses. 


266  THE   GREEK  LANGUAGE  AND   P  DETRY. 

And  then  didst  lace  her  bodice  on  abroad  by  silvery  moonlight ; 
Nor  knew  the  neighborhood  at  all  she  had  so  fair  a  daughter, 
When  came  from  Babylon  afar  a  wooer's  soft  entreaty. 
Eight  of  the  brothers  yielded  not,  but  Constantino  consented. 

CONSTANTINE. 

O  mother,  give  thine  Arete,  bestow  her  on  the  stranger, 
That  I  may  have  her  solace  dear  when  on  the  way  I  journey. 

Mother. 
Though  thou  art  wise,  my  Constantine,  thou  hast  unwisely  spoken 
Be  woe  my  lot,  or  be  it  joy,  who  will  restore  my  daughter ' 

POBT. 

And  then  God's  blessed  name  he  called,  he  called  the  holy  martyrs, 
Be  woe  her  lot,  or  be  it  joy,  he  would  restore  her  daughter. 
And  then  the  year  of  sorrow  comes,  and  all  the  brothers  perish, 
And  at  the  tomb  of  Constantine  she  tears  her  hair  in  anguish 

Mother. 
Arise,  my  Constantine,  arise,  for  Arete  I  languish  ; 
For  thou  didst  call  God's  blessed  name,  didst  call  the  holy  martyrs, 
Be  woe  my  lot,  or  be  it  joy,  thou  wouldst  restore  my  daughter. 

Poet. 
And  forth  at  midnight  hour  he  fares  to  bring  her  to  her  mother, 
And  finds  her  combing  down  her  locks,  abroad  by  silvery  moonlight. 

Constantine. 
Arise,  my  Aretoula  dear ;  for  thee  our  mother  longeth. 

Arete. 
Alas  !  my  brother,  what  is  this  ?     Why  art  thou  here  at  midnight  1 
If  joy  betide  our  distant  home,  I  wear  my  golden  raiment; 
If  woe  betide,  dear  brother  mine,  I  go  as  here  I  'm  standing. 

Constantine. 
Let  joy  betide,  let  woe  betide,  yet  go  as  here  thou  standest. 

Poet. 

And  while  they  fare  upon  the  way,  and  while  they  journey  homeward, 
They  hear  the  birds  and  what  they  sing,  and  what  the  birds  are  saying 

Birds. 
Ho !  see  the  lovely  maiden  there ;  a  ghost  it  is  that  bears  her. 

Arete. 
List,  Constantine,  list  to  the  birds,  and  hear  what  they  are  saying. 

Constantine. 
Yes  !  birds  are  they,  and  let  them  sing ;  they  're  birds,  heed  not  their  saying. 


MODERN   GREEK   POETRY.  267 

Abetb. 
I  fear  for  thee,  my  brother  dear ;  for  thou  dost  breathe  oi  morose. 

CONSTANTINE. 

Last  evening  late  I  visited  the  church  of  Saint  Johannes ; 

And  there  the  priest  perfumed  me  o'er  with  clouds  of  fragrant  incense 

Unlock,  O  mother  mine,  unlock !  thine  Arete  is  coming. 

Mother. 
If  thou  a  spirit  art,  pass  by ;  if  thou  art  death,  depart  thee ; 
My  hapless  Arete  afar  is  dwelling  with  the  stranger. 

CONSTANTINE. 

Unlock,  0  mother  mine,  unlock !  thy  Constantino  entreats  thee  ; 
I  called  upon  God's  blessed  name,  and  on  the  holy  martyrs, 
Be  woe  thy  lot,  or  be  it  joy,  I  would  restore  thy  daughter. 

Poet. 
And  soon  as  she  unbarred  the  door,  away  her  spirit  fleeted." 


SECOND    COURSE. 


THE    LIFE    OF    GREECE. 


LECTURE    I. 

HELLAS  AND   THE  HELLENES. 

In  the  course  of  lectures  which  I  had  the  honor  to  deliver  hist 
year  in  this  place,  my  principal  subjects  were  the  position  of 
the  Greek  language  in  the  development  of  human  speech,  the 
position  of  Greek  poetry  in  the  history  of  civilization,  and  the 
value  of  Greek  poetry  considered  as  an  expression  of  the  heart 
and  mind  of  man.  The  language  stands  near  the  middle  of  the 
line  from  the  Ganges  to  the  western  shore  of  Europe,  —  one 
extremity  being  the  Sanscrit,  the  other  the  English,  and  all 
forming  the  class  or  group  designated  by  comparative  philolo- 
gists as  the  Indo-European  stock.  It  has  such  analogies  with 
the  ancient  Sanscrit,  both  in  grammatical  inflection  and  in 
words,  that  no  doubt  remains  of  an  early  relationship  between 
the  two ;  while  the  number  of  words  which  are  similar  or 
identical  in  both  is  so  small,  compared  with  the  whole  body  of 
the  respective  languages,  that  the  nations  speaking  them  must, 
in  their  historical  development,  have  been  wholly  independent 
of  each  other.  The  common  starting-point  belongs,  in  space, 
to  the  Iranian  plains  of  Asia,  and  in  time,  to  those  mysterious 
iepths  of  antiquity  which  historical  research  is  totally  unable 
to  fathom.  The  polity  of  the  East  was  early  moulded  into  per- 
manent types  by  civil  and  religious  institutions,  which  have 
already  lasted  unaltered  for  more  than  four  thousand  years, 
and  seem  hardly  susceptible  of  decay.  The  Western  tribes, 
moving  from  country  to  country,  changing  from  institutions  to 
nstitutions,  passed  through  Protean  diversities  of  character, 
:ondition,  and  culture,  presenting  a  striking  picture  of  the 
capabilities  of  the  race.     The  Sanscrit  language  unfolded  into 


272  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

a  rich  copiousness  of  expression  and  a  fulness  of  grammat 
ical  flexions  elsewhere  unknown,  but  with  a  regularity  that 
stamps  it  with  a  singular  monotony  of  type.  The  Greek,  on 
the  other  hand,  has  grammatical  forms  somewhat  inferior  in 
number,  while  its  vocabulary,  sufficiently  rich  for  all  the  pur- 
poses of  life,  art,  and  letters,  presents  varieties  and  irregular- 
ities corresponding  with  the  greater  activity  and  more  varied 
experiences  of  the  races  that  employed  it,  and,  instead  of  the 
monotony  of  the  Sanscrit,  is  especially  marked  by  a  sparkling 
and  exhilarating  vivacity. 

The  literature  of  the  Sanscrit  was  developed  with  wonderful 
order  and  system,  but  in  forms  of  such  gigantic  dimensions  that 
the  most  industrious  scholar  shrinks  before  them  appalled ;  and 
even  Sir  William  Jones  compared  them  to  the  Himalayas, 
the  loftiest  mountains  under  the  sun.  Epic,  lyric,  and  dra- 
matic poetry  succeeded  each  other  in  an  order  which  seemed  to 
obey  some  law  of  nature,  and  with  a  luxuriance  like  that  of 
animal  and  vegetable  life  beneath  the  blazing  heavens  of  the 
tropics.  The  features  of  nature  in  the  midst  of  which  this 
literature  arose  were  on  an  overpowering  and  colossal  scale. 
All  was  immense,  unmanageable.  In  Greece,  on  the  other 
hand,  spaces  were  contracted.  Excesses  of  climate  and  of 
animal  and  vegetable  life  were  tempered.  Instead  of  reposing 
on  the  bosom  of  all-embracing  Nature,  man  was  compelled  to 
struggle  with  the  earth  and  the  elements  for  his  existence. 
Instead  of  shaping  his  outward,  religious,  and  intellectual  being 
by  the  unchanging  mould  of  caste,  he  asserted  his  freedom  and 
claimed  his  individual  rights.  Instead  of  worshipping  the  un- 
couth and  gigantic  forms  suggested  by  an  overwhelming  Nature, 
he  clothed  his  deities  with  the  loveliest  attributes  of  human 
grace  and  beauty.  Instead  of  bowing  down  to  despotism,  he 
became  a  political  being,  making  his  own  laws  according  to 
principles  of  right  evolved  by  the  exercise  of  his  own  under- 
standing ;  administering  his  own  enactments  either  in  person 
or  by  agents  appointed  by  and  representing  himself.  Instead 
of  the  harems  of  Eastern  kings  with  their  accumulating  horrors, 


HELLAS  AND   THE  HELLENES.  27  B 

VA  » 
he  established  the  family  with  all  its  blessed  relations ;  he  em- 
bellished his  life  with  the  graces  of  art,  invigorated  it  with 
science,  animated  it  with  politics,  crowded  it  with  intellectual 
joys.  Literature  was  brough1  within  the  compass  of  order, 
proportion,  beauty;  it  became  the  reflection  of  busy  life  no 
less  than  the  record  of  philosophic  musing  and  ascetic  contem- 
plation. Art  grew  rich  and  radiant  from  the  teeming  but  dis- 
ciplined imagination  and  the  delicate  training  of  the  hand.  It 
is  idle  to  say  that  there  is  no  standard  of  beauty ;  there  is  one, 
and  it  is  found  in  the  cultivated  judgment  of  the  most  intel- 
lectual races,  pre-eminently  in  the  unfolded  skill  of  the  artists 
and  poets  of  Greece.  To  say  that  the  Hottentot  knows 
nothing  of  this,  that  the  woolly  head  and  flattened  nose  and 
protuberant  lip  form  his  ideal  of  personal  charms,  is  only  to 
say  that  he  is  a  Hottentot  and  not  a  Greek ;  that  he  is  igno- 
rant of  beauty,  not  that  beauty  does  not  exist ;  that  he  has  a 
false  standard,  not  that  there  is  no  true  standard.  On  the 
contrary,  the  fact  that  the  Hottentot  has  any  conception  of 
beauty  proves  that  there  is  beauty  incorporated  from  the  Di- 
vine mind  in  the  created  universe ;  and  if  so,  then  there  is  an 
idea  of  beauty  in  the  Divine  mind,  and  that  divine  idea  is  its 
prototype  and  standard,  which  the  Greek  race  have  most  nearly 
embodied  and  interpreted  in  their  art  and  literature.  This 
seems  to  have  been  the  function  which  they  were  specially  sent 
upon  the  earth  to  perform. 

As  we  look  on  the  map  of  Greece,  and  compare  that  country 
with  the  other  regions  of  the  earth,  the  first  idea  which  strikes 
us  is  its  insignificant  extent.  Side  by  side  with  the  vast  spaces 
?f  Asia,  it  almost  disappears  from  our  sight.  Measured  with 
the  other  countries  of  Europe,  itself  the  smallest  grand  division 
of  the  globe,  it  shrinks  into  a  third-rate  country.  Added  to 
the  United  States  or  Mexico,  it  would  make  no  appreciable 
enlargement  of  the  boundaries  of  either.  The  spirit  of  annexa- 
tion would  hardly  pause  to  consider  it ;  Manifest  Destiny  would 
ievour  it  without  a  moment's  satiety  to  its  enormous  appetite. 

If  we  scrutinize  the  map  of  Greece  a  little  more  closely,  we 

VOL.    I.  18 


274  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

are  struck  with  the  remarkable  indentations  of  its  coast,  and  with 
the  extraordinary  variety  of  its  surface ;  broken  up  and  moulded 
by  mountains,  hills,  and  plains ;  diversified  by  rivers  traversing 
it  in  every  direction ;  marked  off  into  strongly  discriminated 
physical  divisions,  producing  every  conceivable  diversity  of 
circumstance  and  influence  under  which  the  spirit  of  man  may 
be  trained  to  play  its  part  on  the  mortal  scene.  The  spine  of 
the  country  is  the  range  of  the  Pindus.  From  Lacmon,  its 
most  remarkable  height,  five  rivers  diverge  to  the  Adriatic  and 
the  Ionian  Sea,  the  Thermaic  Gulf,  the  JEgean,  and  the  Gulf 
of  Corinth.  These  rivers  are  the  Aous,  the  Arachthus,  the 
Haliacmon,  the  Peneius,  and  the  Achelous.  They  flowed 
through  fertile  valleys,  under  thick  forests,  by  opulent  cities. 
The  Aous  passed  along  the  line  of  the  colonies  of  Corinth, 
and  so  communicated  with  the  coast  that  fronted  Italy.  The 
Arachthus,  rising  near  the  source  of  the  Aous,  flows  into  the 
Ambracian  Gulf,  opposite  the  promontory  of  Actium,  where 
Augustus  decided  the  fortunes  of  the  Roman  world.  The 
Haliacmon  takes  its  course  in  the  opposite  direction,  and,  run- 
ning by  Beroea,  falls  into  the  Thermaic  Gulf  at  Thessaloniea, 
—  both  consecrated  names  in  the  early  history  of  the  Christian 
Church.  Rising  near  the  same  spot,  flowing  at  first  nearly  in 
the  same  direction,  but  separated  by  the  Cambunian  range,  is 
the  Peneius,  which  waters  the  vale  of  Tempe,  so  celebrated  by 
the  ancient  writers  for  the  assemblage  of  amenities  that  pleased 
the  senses  and  captivated  the  imagination.  Mount  Olympus, 
the  dwelling  of  the  gods,  rose  high  and  snow-capped  on  the 
north,  Ossa  on  the  south,  and  between  them  the  Peneius  en- 
tered the  gulf.  The  fertile  plain  of  Thessaly  —  breeder  of 
horses  and  mother  of  heroes  —  was  guarded  on  the  west  by 
Pindus,  on  the  north  by  the  Cambunian  Hills,  on  the  south 
by  Othrys.  The  Achelous,  the  largest  of  the  rivers,  flowed 
through  a  mountainous  and  thinly  peopled  country,  and  entered 
the  sea  at  the  mouth  of  the  Corinthian  Gulf. 

From  Mount  Tymphrestus,  the  centre  of  the  mountain  sys. 
fern,  we  follow  the  line   northwardly  to  Pindus,   eastwardly 


HELLAS   AND   THE  HELLENES.  275 

along  the  Othrys  chain  to  the  sea.  Southeasterly  runs  the  chain 
of  (Eta.  Westerly,  on  the  frontiers  of  ^tolia  and  Acarnania, 
the  Agraean  Hills  extend  to  the  shore  of  the  Ambracian  Gulf. 
Another  line  along  the  south  of  Phocis  bears  the  renowned 
name  of  Parnassus ;  passing  into  Boeotia,  it  is  the  equally  fa- 
mous Helicon  ;  under  the  appellations  of  Cithaeron  and  Par- 
lies—  both  immortalized  in  Athenian  poetry  —  it  separates  the 
valley  of  the  Asopus  from  the  Attic  plain ;  and  dividing  Attica, 
under  the  names  of  Brilessus,  Pentelicus,  and  Hymettus,  it 
slopes  to  the  shore  at  the  promontory  of  Sunium,  reappearing 
in  the  islands  of  Ceos,  Paros,  Delos,  and  the  Cyclades  and 
Sporades  of  the  JEgean  Sea,  "  which,"  says  Wordsworth, 
"  serve  as  natural  stepping-stones  to  conduct  us  across  the 
Archipelago  to  the  continent  of  Asia  from  that  of  Greece." 

The  Peloponnesus  is  similarly  traversed  and  divided.  The 
central  region  is  Arcadia,  a  massive  table-land,  supported  and 
defended  by  mountain  ranges ;  on  the  west,  by  Mount  Lycseus 
and  its  curved  chain ;  on  the  north,  by  the  woody  Eryman- 
thus  and  Cyllene ;  on  the  east,  by  the  pine-clad  Msenalus 
and  the  snowy  Parnon,  which,  running  southeast,  forms  the 
eastern  boundary  of  Sparta ;  while,  nearly  parallel  to  this,  the 
noble  and  famous  Taygetus  bounds  Sparta  on  the  west,  and 
ends  in  the  Tsenarian  Promontory,  the  southernmost  point  of 
Greece.  Thus  from  the  mountainous  territory  of  Arcadia 
branch  off  the  mountain-framed  valleys  of  Argolis,  Laconia, 
Messenia,  Triphylia,  Elis,  and  Achaia.  The  Peloponnesus 
was  called  by  Strabo  the  Acropolis  of  Greece. 

Such  is  a  brief  outline  of  the  physical  features  of  Greece. 
My  purpose  is  not  to  illustrate  the  geography  of  the  country  in 
detail,  but  only  to  mark  out  the  framework  within  which  the 
scenes  of  its  ancient  history  were  enacted.  Each  of  these  physi- 
cal features  connects  itself  with  a  thousand  brilliant  associations 
of  history  or  poetry,  consecrating  to  immortal  memory  every 
nch  of  the  classic  soil  of  Hellas.  The  limestone  formations,  the 
stalactite  caverns  in  which  the  plastic  fancy  of  the  Greeks  saw 
the  works  of  nymphs  and  other  powers  of  their  mythological 


276  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

creed,  the  marbles  of  Aftica,  Eubcea,  and  Paros,  the  porphyry 
of  Thessaly  and  Laconia,  the  silver  mines  of  Laureium,  the  cop- 
per mines  of  Euboea,  iron  in  the  islands  and  in  many  portions 
©f  the  continent,  mineral  springs  like  the  still  existing  hot 
springs  at  Thermopylae,  —  furnished  the  materials  for  building 
and  the  fine  and  useful  arts,  for  commercial  exchanges  and 
household  convenience,  for  sacred  and  sanitary  uses,  during  the 
historical  period  of  the  Hellenic  race.  With  great  varieties 
of  temperature,  there  was  yet  a  prevailing  equability  and 
beauty  in  the  sky  and  air,  which  favored  the  intellectual  devel- 
opment of  the  people.  The  climate  was  equally  removed  from 
the  enervating  influences  of  the  south  —  of  India,  for  example 
—  and  the  severity  of  the  north.  To  these  natural  agencies  in 
the  formation  of  character  may  be  added  the  rich  and  varied 
fertility  of  the  soil  where  cultivated,  and  the  products  of  the 
woods  and  mountains,  —  the  wild  animals  for  the  chase,  and 
cattle  for  the  support  and  convenience  of  daily  life.  Lions 
were  found  only  in  poetry,  having  disappeared  from  the  soil 
of  Greece  before  the  historical  ages ;  but  bears,  wolves,  wild 
boars,  and  deer  afforded  abundant  and  attractive  game  to  the 
hunter ;  and,  later  still,  fishing  and  fowling,  in  all  their  forms, 
multiplied  the  means  of  amusement  and  the  sources  of  luxury. 
Birds  of  the  farmyard,  field,  and  forest  not  only  supplied  the 
wants  of  the  table,  but  pleased  the  fancy  and  moved  the  heart 
of  the  susceptible  Greek.  The  swallow  was  the  herald  of 
spring,  and  the  nightingale  was  the  songstress  "  that  honeyed 
all  the  thickets  round  "  ;  while  other  birds  furnished  the  omens 
by  which  superstition  sought  to  bring  to  human  knowledge  the 
will  and  the  purposes  of  the  gods.  How  accurately  the  forms, 
colors^  habits,  and  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  birds  were  ob- 
'  served,  may  be  pleasingly  witnessed  in  the  gayest  of  the  come- 
dies of  Aristophanes,  and  in  the  scientific  treatises  of  Aristotle. 
The  land,  thus  furnished  by  nature,  was  surrounded  bj 
sparkling  seas,  winding  into  the  continent  by  curves  and  har- 
bors, which  made  the  coast-line  one  of  extraordinary  length. 
The  dwellers  along  its  shore  wert  early  tempted  to  engage  iv 


HELLAS   AND  THE  HELLENES.  277 

distant  enterprises  of  commerce  and  war ;  and  the  fleets  of  the 
elder  nations  on  the  eastern  margin  of  the  Mediterranean 
were  attracted  to  its  numerous  landings,  and  brought  the  pro- 
ducts and  arts  of  their  more  ancient  civilization  to  exchange 
tor  the  fruits  and  the  mineral  wealth  of  Hellas.  How  early  this 
action  and  reaction  between  the  opposite  sides  of  the  jEgean 
Sea  commenced,  it  is  not  possible  to  decide  from  the  inter- 
rupted records  of  history ;  but  it  must  have  been  very  early ; 
for  the  Phoenician  fleets  visited  every  shore  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean at  least  a  thousand  years  before  the  authentic  history  of 
Greece  commences. 

Whence  came  the  people  who  filled  up  these  fair  regions 
with  an  active  and  teeming  race  ?  Over  this  question  darkness 
and  perplexity  hang.  The  answer  cannot  be  given  in  detail, 
except  as  a  series  of  conjectures,  founded  partly  on  tradition, 
partly  on  comparison  of  languages,  and  partly  on  physical  pe- 
culiarities. But  so  much  as  this  is  tolerably  certain,  —  that  the 
great  waves  of  migration,  which,  in  the  primeval  periods  of 
human  history,  moved  westward  from  the  heart  of  Asia,  over- 
flowed in  divergent  streams  that  poured  down  through  the 
mountain  passes,  and  filled  up  the  valleys  of  the  peninsulas  in 
Southern  Europe  ;  and  this  great  fact  is  confirmed  by  another, 
namely,  that  the  most  ancient  centres  of  the  primitive  religion 
and  poetry  of  the  race  were  among  the  mountains  and  the  fertile 
valleys  of  the  North,  —  Dodona,  Olympus,  Delphi,  —  and  that 
from  the  same  regions  came  the  semi-mythical  Thamyris,  Olen, 
Orpheus,  and  Amphion,  whose  mighty  names  throw  a  gleam 
of  poetic  splendor  across  the  darkness  of  that  cloud-surrounded 
age.  At  a  later  period  more  cultivated  settlers  came  in  by 
ship  from  the  older  communities  of  the  Oriental  world.  The 
culture  that  resulted  from  the  interblending  of  these  elements 
y  land  or  sea  was  deeper  and  richer  in  its  nature  and  more 
permanent  in  its  duration,  and,  in  fact,  constitutes  the  peculiar 
type  of  civilization  which  we  call  Hellenic.  This  is  not  a  name, 
put  a  prodigious  and  splendid  reality,  which  has  controlled  the 
course  of  intellectual  development  for  five-and-twenty  centuries 


278  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

Did  these  primitive  immigrants  find  an  unpeopled  country  V 
or  did  they  come  upon,  and  displace  or  mingle  with,  an  aborig- 
inal population  ?  The  Athenians  claimed  to  be  autochthones, 
or  children  of  the  earth  ;  and  the  Arcadians  called  themselves 
older  than  the  moon.  These  claims  may  simply  mean  that 
they  had  held  the  soil  they  inhabited  from  immemorial  ages, 
or  they  may  mean  that  they  were  actually  created  on  the  spot. 
The  question  which  theory  is  true  belongs  to  the  realm  of 
speculation,  not  of  demonstration.  Those  who  hold  to  the 
unity  of  origin  of  the  human  race  must  believe  that  the  first 
wave  of  migration  swept  over  a  solitary  country,  and  filled  it 
with  a  new  life ;  those  who  hold  to  the  theory  of  original  crea- 
tion wherever  the  earth  was  fitted  to  sustain  the  existence  of 
man,  may  believe  that  in  Greece,  as  in  other  parts  of  the 
world,  the  creative  power  placed  a  portion  of  the  human 
family,  the  original  possessors  of  the  soil.  The  discussion  does 
not  belong  to  this  place  or  to  my  subject. 

The  early  traditions  of  the  race  are  involved  in  inextricable 
confusion.  This  is  undoubtedly  owing,  not  only  to  the  want 
of  documentary  records,  but  to  the  long  series  of  movements 
from  the  East,  bringing  tribes  and  hordes  into  the  country  at 
very  different  stages  of  culture,  with  different  mythologies  and 
ethical  ideas,  which,  blending  with  their  predecessors  in  peace- 
ful intercourse,  or  by  military  conquest,  sent  down  by  oral 
tradition  a  confused  history,  which  all  the  acuteness  of  subse- 
quent criticism  has  been  quite  unable  to  unravel  with  perspi- 
cuity of  method  and  clearness  of  result.  There  was  a  civiliza- 
tion in  Greece  anterior  to  the  heroic  age,  as  is  attested  by 
gigantic  ruins,  which  were  antiquities  before  the  days  of 
Homer.  The  walls  of  Tiryns,  the  treasury  of  Atreus,  the 
lions  of  Mycenae,  and  other  Cyclopean  structures,  over  which 
time  seems  to  have  no  more  power  than  over  the  works  of 
nature,  are  indisputable  proofs  that  an  older  race  held  the 
land,  and  put  forth  gigantic  energies  to  mark  the  traces  of  its 
existence  there.  The  writers  of  Greece  point  out  localities  in 
which  were  found  the  remains  of  a  language,  which  thev  "all 


HELLAS   AND   THE   HELLENES.  279 

Pelasgian,  and  consider  as  wholly  different  from  their  own. 
Here  they  were  probably  somewhat  mistaken  in  the  absolute 
conclusion  at  which  they  arrived.  The  Persian  and  the  In- 
dian seemed  equally  to  the  Greek  to  be  languages  having  no 
affinities  with  theirs,  and  yet  nothing  is  more  certain  than 
the  relation  between  them.  It  seems  singular  that  these  affin- 
ities should  have  escaped  their  attention ;  that,  of  the  many 
educated  Greeks  who  visited  the  Persian  court  and  spoke  the 
Persian  language,  none  should  have  detected  the  resemblances ; 
that  even  Ctesias,  who  passed  many  years  there  as  court-phy- 
sician, and  who  wrote  a  history  of  Persia  from  Persian  docu 
ments,  took  no  notice  of  this  philological  fact ;  that  the  men  of 
letters  who  accompanied  Alexander  in  his  Oriental  campaigns, 
and  who  must  have  heard  the  Sanscrit  language  constantly 
spoken,  have  listened  to  the  recital  of  Sanscrit  hymns,  and 
have  conversed  intimately  with  the  learned  Brahmins,  failed 
to  remark  the  wonderful  resemblances  between  the  Sanscrit 
language  and  the  Greek.  All  this  can  be  accounted  for  only 
by  the  fact,  that  the  science  of  comparative  philology  was  totally 
unknown  to  the  most  accomplished  men  of  antiquity,  and  that, 
in  their  estimation,  all  languages  except  the  Greek  were  barba- 
rous, and  those  who  spoke  them  were  barbarians.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  the  Pelasgian  was  the  basis  of  the  Hellenic, 
as  it  was  of  the  Roman  tongue,  and  that  a  considerable  part 
of  its  words  exist,  under  modified  forms,  in  the  dialects  of  the 
Greek  language,  as  the  Celtic  and  the  Saxon  form  the  basis 
of  the  cultivated  English. 

In  imitation  of  the  Romans  we  call  the  inhabitants  of  Hellas, 
collectively,  Greeks.  They  never  called  themselves  by  this 
name.  The  Greeks  were  a  small  and  rude  people  of  Epirus, 
scarcely  recognized  in  the  classical  history  of  Greece  ;  but  they 
appear  to  have  been  early  known  to  the  people  of  the  neigh- 
boring peninsula  of  Italy,  who  applied  their  name,  by  a  gen- 
eralizing process,  to  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  country.  Hellas, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  originally  only  a  small  district  in  Tlies- 
saly,  and  the  Hellenes  were  at  first  an  insignificant  tribe.     As 


280  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

late  as  the  time  of  Homer  there  was  no  common  designation. 
The  numerous  divisions,  partly  founded  on  difference  of  de 
scent,  and  partly  caused  by  the  strong  lines  of  physical  demar- 
cation which  parcelled  out  the  country,  were  known  by  theii 
several  names  as  Achaioi,  Danaoi,  Hellenes,  Argeioi,  Athe« 
naioi,  each  having  its  separate  organization,  its  worship,  its 
leaders,  and  probably  its  peculiarities  of  language.  But  in  the 
historical  ages,  before  the  times  of  Herodotus  and  Thucydides, 
the  local  name  of  Hellenes  was  extended  into  a  national  desig- 
nation, and  is  uniformly  employed  by  the  classic  writers  in 
that  sense ;  and  the  name  Hellas  had  a  similar  enlargement. 
We  ought  to  call  the  country  Hellas,  and  the  people  Hellenes, 
simply  because  these  are  their  names,  while  Greece  and  Greeks 
are  only  Roman  nicknames.  We  may  consider  the  culture  that 
preceded  the  Hellenic,  whatever  it  was,  as  Pelasgic,  and  the 
historical  development  of  the  people  as  Hellenic. 

Looking  at  this  people  in  their  collective  capacity,  there  are 
several  prominent  and  characteristic  traits  which  strike  the 
attention  on  a  superficial  survey.  The  remains  of  Hellenic  art 
exhibit  a  type  of  extraordinary  physical  beauty ;  and  that  this 
type  was  not  an  ideal  one  is  proved  by  the  well-known  fact 
that  the  artists  studied  simple,  unadorned  nature  more  dili- 
gently and  exclusively  than  those  of  any  other  age.  The  hu- 
man figure,  in  its  real  proportions,  was  constantly  before  their 
eyes  ;  the  climate  and  customs  of  the  country  favored  the  studj' 
of  the  nude,  and  the  artists  laid  down  this  study  as  the  basis 
of  their  practice.  The  same  type  of  beauty  has  remained  in 
those  regions  under  all  the  changes  of  circumstance  which  have 
since  taken  place.  The  facial  angle  and  the  straight  nose, 
which  are  the  common  characteristics  of  Greek  statuary,  are 
by  no  means  uncommon  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  Greek 
islands,  and  in  those  parts  of  the  continent  where  the  race  has 
not  been  supplanted  by  Slavonians  and  Albanians.  Propor- 
tion entered  largely  into  the  conception  of  personal  beauty. 
In  detail,  a  white  skin,  yellow  hair  in  waving  locks,  well- 
formed  extremities,  a  round  head  of  moderate  size,  delicate 


HELLAS  AND   THE  HELLENES.  281 

iips,  a  straight  nose  never  surmounted  by  spectacles,  and  deep- 
blue  eyes,  constituted  the  most  prevalent  conception  of  beauty, 
especially  among  the  Greeks  of  the  heroic  age.  It  was  the 
Caucasian  type.  Among  the  Southern  Greeks  a  darker  com- 
plexion, hair,  and  eyes  presented  frequent  exceptions  in  these 
individual  points,  while  the  type  of  figure,  height,  and  outline 
remained  the  same.  It  was  a  saying  of  Chrysippus  that  beauty 
consists,  not  in  the  symmetry  of  the  elements,  but  in  that  of  the 
parts ;  and  Adamantius,  a  writer  on  physiognomy,  of  the  fifth 
century,  describes  the  pure  Greek  race  as  tall  and  straight, 
with  white  skin,  soft  yellow  hair,  fair  and  firm  flesh,  handsome 
extremities,  head  of  moderate  size,  strong  neck,  square  or  oval 
face,  delicate  lips,  straight  nose,  liquid  eyes  of  dark  blue  or 
azure,  having  much  light  in  them ;  "  for  of  all  nations,"  he 
writes,  "the  Greeks  have  the  handsomest  eyes."  Plato,  in 
alluding  to  the  occasional  departure  from  the  common  type  in 
beautiful  persons,  says :  "  You  praise  one  who  has  a  snub  nose 
as  being  piquant  and  agreeable  ;  and  a  hooked  nose  you  declare 
to  be  a  mark  of  royalty.  The  dark-complexioned  are  manly 
to  look  upon,  and  the  light-complexioned  are  children  of  the 
gods."  Yet  the  healthy  brown,  resulting  from  exercise  in  the 
open  air,  was  greatly  prized  in  comparison  with  the  pale  com- 
plexion caused  by  sedentary  life.  "  The  pale  man,"  says  one, 
"  shows  the  effeminacy  of  life  in  the  shade  "  ;  and  it  was  a  prov- 
erb, that  "  pale  men  are  good  for  nothing  except  to  be  cob- 
blers." The  value  they  placed  on  health,  and  the  endless 
pains  they  took  to  secure  this  best  of  blessings,  show  the  good 
sense  of  the  race  in  a  most  striking  contrast  with  the  absurdi- 
ties of  every  nation  since  their  day.  The  poet  Simonides  says, 
"  To  be  healthy  is  the  greatest  boon  to  man  "  ;  and  Ariphron, 
quoted  by  Athenaeus,  was  the  author  of  the  following  paean :  — 

"  Health,  brightest  visitant  from  heaven, 

Grant  me  with  thee  to  rest ! 
For  the  short  term  by  nature  given, 

Be  thou  ray  constant  guest ! 
For  all  the  pride  that  wealth  bestows, 


282  THE   LIFE   OF  GREECE. 

The  pleasure  that  from  children  flows, 
Whate'er  we  count  in  regal  state 
That  makes  men  covet  to  be  great, 
Whatever  sweet  we  hope  to  find 

In  love's  delightful  snares, 
Whatever  good  by  Heaven  assigned, 

Whatever  pause  from  cares,  — 
All  flourish  at  thy  smile  divine; 
The  spring  of  loveliness  is  thine, 
And  every  joy  that  warms  our  hearts 
With  thee  approaches  and  departs." 

Of  such  ideas  as  to  health,  long  life  was  a  natural  conse- 
quence. The  bodily  powers  came  early  to  maturity,  but  this 
did  not  lead  to  a  premature  old  age  ;  for  development  did  not 
end  with  youth,  nor  decay  commence  with  budding  manhood. 
As  far  back  as  Hesiod  the  proper  time  of  marriage  was  fixed 
at  thirty  for  a  man  and  sixteen  for  a  woman  ;  Aristotle  changes 
the  proportion  to  thirty  and  eighteen ;  and  Plato  to  thirty 
and  twenty,  which  is  much  more  reasonable  than  the  rule  of 
Hesiod,  who,  thinking  ill  of  the  sex,  probably  fancied  the  evil 
would  be  less  if  they  were  caught  young.  The  military  age 
was  from  the  twentieth  to  the  sixtieth  year.  Hippocrates  says 
that  a  man  is  a  Trpeafivrr)?  —  a  word  commonly,  but  incor- 
rectly, translated  old  —  to  the  fifty-sixth  year,  and  from  that 
time  is  a  yepcop.  An  unusually  large  proportion  of  the  emi- 
nent Greeks  retained  all  their  powers  of  mind  and  body  to  the 
eightieth,  ninetieth,  or  even  the  hundredth  year.  Gorgias 
lived  to  the  age  of  one  hundred  and  eight,  and  Theophrastus 
to  a  hundred,  in  the  full  possession  of  their  faculties ;  and  the 
father  of  ^Eschines  died  at  the  age  of  ninety-five. 

The  intellectual  character  of  the  Greeks  corresponded  to  the 
external  circumstances  in  which  they  were  placed,  and  to  the 
beauty  of  form  which  so  pre-eminently  belonged  to  them.  The 
harmony  between  their  mental,  moral,  and  physical  condition 
is  a  striking  proof  of  the  perfectness  of  their  organization.  Ac- 
cording to  Xenophon,  Socrates  declared  that  the  elements  of  a 
good  nature,  that  is,  one  well  endowed  with  faculties,  were  the 


HELLAS  AND  THE  HELLENES.  283 

ability  to  learn  quickly  whatever  received  the  requisite  atten- 
tion, a  good  memory,  and  a  passion  for  all  knowledge  by  which 
one  may  be  helped  to  discharge  in  the  best  manner  his  public 
and  private  duties.  These  the  Greeks  possessed  almost  univer- 
sally. Besides  these,  they  had  a  certain  moderation  of  temper, 
which,  however  it  might  have  been  lost  from  sight  in  special 
cases,  still  generally  stamped  itself  on  the  conduct  and  even  on 
the  speech ;  a  propriety  and  becomingness  of  demeanor ;  a  tem- 
perance in  all  things ;  a  balance  of  character,  which  is  remark- 
ably expressed  in  the  serene  and  tranquil  beauty  of  their  plastic 
art.  Yet  so  delicate  was  their  susceptibility  of  the  gentler  emo- 
tions, that  they  were  easily  moved  to  lamentation  and  tears,  to 
pity,  love,  and  friendship ;  and  they  were  exquisitely  sensitive 
to  the  effects  of  music,  which  with  them  was  not  the  amusement 
of  an  idle  hour,  but  entered  deeply  into  the  moral  condition  of 
the  soul,  and  had  important  bearings  on  the  welfare  of  the 
state.  "  Good  men  are  inclined  to  tears,"  was  a  proverbial 
saying.  "  The  Greek  standard,  however,"  says  Hermann, 
"  was  never  anything  higher  than  the  purely  human.  That 
which  he  [the  Greek]  was  to  admire  or  reverence,  he  must 
first  clothe  in  human  forms  and  analogies,  especially  whatever 
belonged  to  surrounding  Nature  and  her  powers.  The  rule 
of  man  over  matter  he  nobly  established,  and  he  clothed  his 
religion  in  anthropomorphic  conceptions,  making  it  the  vehicle 
of  a  humanity  by  which  man  exalted  himself  to  the  likeness 
of  the  gods." 

The  faults  and  weaknesses  of  the  Hellenic  nature  were  often 
terribly  manifested  in  the  course  of  their  history.  The  Greek 
acknowledged  the  duty  of  obedience  to  the  laws  of  piety  and 
gratitude ;  but  these  legal  and  ethical  obligations  did  not  re- 
strain him  from  giving  free  scope  to  his  passions.  Cruelty  and 
revenge  stained  his  conduct  and  justified  itself  to  his  reason. 
Says  Archilochus : 

"  One  great  thing  I  know, 
The  man  who  wrongs  me  to  requite  with  woe." 

To  benefit  a  friend  and  to  harm  an  enemy,  was  the  commonly 


284  THE  LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

received  maxim  of  duty,  until  Socrates  penetrated  deeper  into 
the  ethical  basis  of  conduct,  and  taught  the  opposite  doctrine. 
Selfishness,  and  an  over-estimation  of  money,  not  in  the  least 
diminished  by  the  additional  experience  of  twenty-five  centu- 
ries, show  their  ugly  faces  in  the  midst  of  the  lovely  concep- 
tions of  poetry  and  art.  "Money  makes  the  man,"  says  Al- 
cepus.  "  The  rich  man  is  the  good,  the  poor  the  bad,"  is 
the  burden  of  the  elegies  of  Theognis :  — 

"  From  poverty  to  flee, 
From  some  tall  precipice  into  the  sea, 
It  were  a  fair  escape  to  leap  below." 

The  value  of  man  as  man  was  better  recognized,  however,  in 
the  later  times  of  the  Athenian  Republic.  The  prevalence  of 
corruption,  fraud,  and  falsehood,  and  the  violation  of  oaths  and 
treaties,  stain  the  pages  of  the  Greek  historians  and  orators, 
and  afford  the  amplest  materials  for  the  satirical  delineations 
of  the  comic  theatre.  The  severe  judgment  of  Polybius,  who 
despaired  of  his  countrymen,  applies  to  the  more  degenerate 
period,  when  Greece  had  become  a  Roman  province  under  the 
name  of  Achaia.  "Those  who  handle  the  public  money  among 
the  Greeks,"  says  he,  "  if  they  are  trusted  with  only  a  talent, 
having  ten  controllers  and  as  many  seals,  and  twice  as  many 
witnesses,  cannot  keep  their  faith."  But  as  far  back  as  Solon's 
time,  the  disposition  to  make  free  with  the  public  money  is 
severely  reprehended  as  a  common  vice  by  that  illustrious  law- 
giver. Public  corruption,  peculation,  and  fraud,  despite  the 
safeguards  and  securities  with  which  the  Athenian  constitution 
surrounded  the  treasury,  are  the  ever-recurring  topics  of  ridi- 
cule and  satire  in  the  comedies  of  Aristophanes.  Traitors  and 
takers  of  bribes,  in  the  days  of  Demosthenes,  are  represented 
as  constantly  thwarting  his  patriotic  policy.  These  faults  of 
conduct  and  character  look  very  badly  when  brought  togethei 
in  a  narrow  compass ;  though  I  do  not  know  that  they  are 
worse  developments  than  have  been  made  in  many  periods  of 
modern  history,  —  French,  English,  and  American.  As  dark 
a  picture  might  be  drawn  of  the  acts  of  profligacy  and  corrnjv 


HELLAS  AND   THE  HELLENES.  286 

tion  committed  in  our  time  by  public  men,  of  the  selfishness  of 
private  life,  the  frauds  of  trade,  and  the  advantages  taken  by 
the  unscrupulous  over  the  simple  and  confiding.  The  adulter- 
ation of  the  coin,  the  repudiation  of  debts  by  states,  the  lies  of 
faction,  and  the  violence  of  parties,  give  us  but  a  poor  picture 
of  the  superiority  of  modern  over  ancient  public  or  private 
morals.  But  these  things  must  be  looked  at  in  their  relation 
with  the  whole  life  of  a  people,  —  in  their  bearings  upon  grand 
results,  and  not  in  their  isolated  deformity. 

Although  the  lines  that  I  have  rapidly  traced  embrace  the 
leading  features  of  the  collective  character  of  the  Greeks,  a 
closer  inspection  reveals  a  wonderful  diversity  of  local,  national, 
and  individual  peculiarities.  Theophrastus,  in  the  Introduction 
to  his  Characters,  says,  addressing  Polycles :  "  I  have  always 
been  perplexed  when  I  have  endeavored  to  account  for  the  fact, 
that  among  a  people  who,  like  the  Greeks,  inhabit  the  same  cli- 
mate, and  are  reared  under  the  same  system  of  education,  there 
should  prevail  so  great  a  diversity  of  manners.  You  know,  my 
friend,  that  I  have  long  been  an  attentive  observer  of  human 
nature ;  I  am  now  in  the  ninety-ninth  year  of  my  age ;  and 
during  the  whole  course  of  my  life,  I  have  conversed  familiarly 
with  men  of  all  classes  and  of  various  climes,  nor  have  I  neg- 
lected closely  to  watch  the  actions  of  individuals."  The  same 
variety  which  led  this  old  and  accurate  observer  to  draw  the 
inimitable  series  of  characters  so  often  imitated,  so  seldom 
equalled,  in  modern  literature,  existed  among  the  tribes  and 
nations  which  together  made  up  the  Hellenic  race.  "  The 
complete  assemblage  of  the  good  and  evil  qualities,"  says  Her- 
mann, "  was  furnished  only  by  Athens."  This  remark  is  well 
founded,  as  we  shall  by  and  by  see,  when  we  come  to  a  more 
especial  consideration  of  that  part  of  Greece.  If  we  take  the 
leading  races,  we  notice  how  singularly  they  are  discriminated, 
and  how  they  shade  into  each  other.  If  we  examine  the 
Greeks  of  the  mainland,  and  compare  them  with  the  colonists 
m  Asia  or  in  Itaiy  or  in  Africa,  we  are  struck  with  a  perpet- 
ual play  of  diversities  in  the  midst  of  general  resemblance. 


286  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

The  ^Eolian,  occupying  a  northerly  position,  was  vigorous, 
active,  and  sound,  with  a  keen  perception  of  beauty,  and  with  a 
tendency  to  fall  into  sensual  excesses.  In  the  fruitful  plains 
of  Thessaly,  he  established  an  aristocracy,  which  rose  to  great 
material  prosperity,  and  then  gave  itself  up  to  extravagant 
pleasures.  Jn  .ZEtolia,  he  turned  his  energies  to  robbery  ana 
plunder.  In  Boeotia,  he  became  heavy,  sluggish,  and  aban- 
doned to  the  lowest  gratifications.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the 
islands  of  the  JEgean  and  in  the  .^Eolian  cities  of  the  Asiatic 
coast,  the  primitive  qualities  of  the  race  were  refined  into  an 
exquisite  genius  for  music  and  poetry,  which,  however,  rapidly 
degenerated  into  a  taste  for  effeminate  and  licentious  indul- 
gence. 

The  Dorian  character,  in  its  iron  consistency,  was  chiefly 
unfolded  in  Crete  and  Sparta.  The  austere  principles  by 
which  the  life  of  the  Dorians  was  professedly  regulated  em- 
bodied themselves  in  the  constitution  of  Lycurgus,  and  in  the 
arrangements  of  public  and  private  affairs  by  which  it  was  car- 
ried into  effect.  The  tersest  simplicity  and  most  pregnant 
brevity  of  speech  was  the  characteristic  of  Sparta.  In  Asiatic 
Doris  we  find  traces  of  the  original  vigor  of  the  race,  and  in 
some  portions  of  it,  as  in  Byzantium,  they  survived  the  down- 
fall of  the  mother  country.  But,  generally  speaking,  the  stem 
peculiarities  of  the  Dorians  gave  way  before  the  encroaching 
spirit  of  Oriental  luxury,  and  rapidly  disappeared,  without  leav- 
ing any  remarkable  monument  to  preserve  the  memory  of  its 
existence  ;  while  in  the  western  colonies,  in  Syracuse  and 
Tarentum,  the  Dorians  became  notorious  for  their  love  of 
luxury. 

The  Ionians,  who  are  represented  on  the  continent  by 
Athens  chiefly,  and  who  there  exhibited  the  richest  develop 
ment  of  genius,  even  in  Euboea  show  many  of  the  peculiarities 
of  their  character.  But  the  earliest  manifestations  of  its  excel- 
lence were  in  the  islands  and  cities  of  the  Lydian  and  Carian 
coasts.  The  beauty  of  the  country,  the  charm  of  the  climate, 
and  the  rapidly  accumulated  wealth  of  an  extensive  commerce 


HELLAS  AND   THE  HELLENES.  287 

acting  upon  a  vigorous  nature,  a  proud  spirit,  and  a  love  of 
enterprise  in  art  and  letters  as  well  as  in  practical  life,  carried 
the  culture  of  the  Ionian  race  in  early  times  to  a  lofty  height. 
In  epic  poetry  the  world  has  not  yet  surpassed,  or  even 
equalled  them.  In  elegiac  verse,  the  remaining  fragments 
are  of  almost  equal  excellence.  In  festive  celebrations,  uniting 
in  grand  exhibitions  the  finest  of  the  arts,  —  music,  song,  and 
dance,  —  in  stately  processions,  in  genial  worship  of  their  pro- 
tecting deities,  in  elegant  and  tasteful  enjoyment  of  the  un- 
equalled delights  of  earth  and  sky  that  surrounded  them,  they 
made  of  human  existence  one  perpetual  holiday.  But  neither  a 
race  nor  an  individual  can  long  endure  under  such  conditions. 
Strenuous  toil,  a  brave  battling  with  hard  necessity,  is  as  much 
the  spring  of  national  greatness  as  of  individual  power.  A 
fertile  soil  is  not  the  best  foundation  for  a  mighty  empire. 
Festivity  is  not  the  best  school  in  which  to  train  a  hardy  na- 
ture. The  neighborhood  of  an  ancient,  worn-out,  and  luxuri- 
ous civilization  exercises  not  the  most  favorable  influence  upon 
the  youthful  virtues  of  a  fresh  and  blooming  race.  Even 
the  deathless  verse  of  Homer  could  not  save  the  Asiatic  Ioni- 
ans  from  premature  decay.  His  warlike  line  did  not  defend 
them  against  the  debility  of  Oriental  habits ;  nor  did  the 
brave  spirit  of  his  heroes  hover  over  them,  and  shield  them 
from  the  Persian  hordes.  Achilles  and  Ajax,  Diomedes  and 
Nestor,  were  in  their  minds,  but  not  in  their  hearts.  The 
death  of  Hector,  the  downfall  of  Troy,  the  captivity  of  Hecuba 
and  Andromache,  were  avenged  in  the  decay  and  ruin,  after  a 
brief  period  of  glory,  of  the  JEolian  and  Ionian  colonies.  But 
on  the  mainland  the  Ionian  stem  took  a  deeper  root,  shot  up 
with  a  slower  but  hardier  growth,  maintained  a  longer  exist- 
ence, bore  richer  fruits.  Athens  produced  no  Homer,  for  he 
consummated  and  exhausted  the  genius  of  epic  poetry ;  but 
what  else  that  does  honor  to  the  spirit  of  man  did  she  not  pro- 
duce in  her  long  career  of  intellectual  supremacy  ? 

All  these  varieties  of  character  and  of  race  were  bound  to- 
gether bv  a  common  Hellenic  spirit,  which  made  them  one  as 


288  THE  LIFE   OF   GBEECE. 

contrasted  with  the  rest  of  the  peopled  world.  They  often 
waged  furious  wars  with  each  other,  but  they  never  forgot  their 
relationship.  They  were  Hellenes,  and  all  beside  were  bar- 
barians. Variety  in  unity  was  the  law  of  their  existence  as 
of  their  epic  art.  When  we  look  over  the  field  of  their  intel- 
lectual achievements,  how  deeply  does  this  fact  impress  itself 
on  the  mind!  Politics,  art,  poetry,  social  life,  —  under  what 
Protean  forms  do  they  stand  before  us,  and  yet  how  radically 
different  are  all  of  them  from  poetry,  art,  social  life,  politics,  in 
the  Oriental  world !  Glance  along  the  series  of  communities 
and  governments  which  occupy  the  foreground  of  Grecian  his- 
tory, and  note  the  multitudinous  forms  of  their  constitutions ; 
survey  the  plastic  and  pictorial  arts ;  see  the  simplicity  of  de- 
sign running  into  the  most  beautiful  variety  of  combination, 
style,  and  execution,  the  schools  and  styles  of  sculpture  and  its 
manifold  materials,  and  the  orders  of  architecture ;  observe  the 
kinds  of  poetry,  discriminated  with  unerring  taste,  and  wrought 
out  with  the  enthusiasm  of  genius,  guided  by  the  hand  of  con- 
scious criticism ;  the  Ionian,  jEolian,  Dorian  modes  of  lyric  com- 
position, with  their  several  rhythms  and  harmonies ;  the  drama 
of  Athens,  under  the  forms  of  tragedy,  comedy,  satyric  drama, 
and  tragicomedy,  with  their  rules  and  principles,  proportions 
and  balancing  parts  ;  enter  the  courts  and  assemblies,  and 
listen  to  the  ever-changing  variety  of  eloquence,  demonstra- 
tive, judicial,  and  deliberative ;  then  pause  in  the  Academy  or 
the  Lyceum,  hear  the  conversations  and  lectures  of  philoso- 
phers and  teachers  of  youth,  and  watch  the  infinite  vivacity  of 
the  discussions,  the  ingenuity  of  the  arguments,  the  wit  of  the 
rapid  retorts,  —  through  all  these  diversities  runs  the  same 
Hellenic  spirit.  They  cannot  be  mistaken  for  anything  else. 
Egypt  had  nothing  like  them.  Phoenicia  and  Palestine  had 
nothing  like  them.  "  The  wealth  of  Ormus  and  of  Ind  "  had 
no  such  intellectual  abundance  to  show.  Hellas,  in  this  re- 
spect, as  the  boldest  illustration  of  unity  in  the  largest  variety 
ttands  alone  in  the  history  of  civilization. 


LECTURE    II. 

OUTLINE   VIEW  OF   HELLENIC    CULTURE. 

In  the  first  Lecture  of  this  course  I  sketched  an  outline  of 
the  physical  conditions  which  surrounded  the  Greeks  during 
their  national  existence.  Next  I  attempted  an  outline,  equally 
general,  of  the  physical,  moral,  and  intellectual  qualities  of  the 
Hellenic  race,  and  of  the  distinctions  between  its  subordinate 
types.  The  general  subject  of  the  course  is  entitled  "  The 
Life  of  Greece,"  a  designation  borrowed  from  Dicsearchus, 
a  contemporaiy  of  Aristotle.  That  eminent  writer,  the  loss 
of  whose  works  is  one  of  the  heaviest  calamities  of  ancient 
literature,  was  a  man  of  the  widest  range  of  knowledge,  em- 
bracing philosophy,  geography,  history,  and  politics,  on  all 
of  which  he  wrote.  He  was  an  extensive  traveller  and  an 
admirable  observer ;  but  titles,  abridgments,  and  fragments 
are  all  that  survive  of  the  numerous  writings  he  gave  to  the 
world.  One  of  them  contained  an  account  of  the  geography, 
history,  morals,  and  religion  of  Greece ;  of  the  life  and  man- 
ners of  the  inhabitants ;  of  education,  learning,  the  arts,  the 
ausical  and  Dionysiac  contests ;  in  short,  of  everything  neces- 
ary  to  the  complete  understanding  of  the  condition  and  char- 
acter both  of  people  and  country.  This  great  work  he  entitled 
Bios  T?}<j  'JSW0809,  or  the  Life  of  Hellas. 

Of  this  work  an  abridged  fragment  has  been  preserved  from 
the  second  book.  It  begins  with  a  description  of  the  road  to 
Athens,  probably  from  Megara,  which  passed  through  a  culti- 
vated country,  sweet  and  agreeable  to  the  sight.  The  city  is 
described  as  ill  furnished  with  water,  and  irregular  on  account 
>f  its  antiquity,  the  houses  generally  mean  and  inconvenient, 

VOL.    I.  19 


290  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

so  that  a  stranger  would  at  first  hardly  believe  this  to  be  the 
celebrated  city  of  Athens.  But  when  he  should  see  the  superb 
theatre ;  the  costly  temple  of  Athene,  called  the  Parthenon, 
overhanging  the  theatre  ;  the  temple  of  Olympian  Zeus,  which, 
though  unfinished,  fills  the  beholder  with  amazement  by  the 
magnificence  of  its  plan ;  the  three  Gymnasia,  —  the  Academy 
the  Lyceum,  and  the  Cynosarges,  —  all  of  them  shaded  by  trees, 
and  embellished  with  grassy  lawns ;  when  he  should  have  be- 
held the  haunts  of  the  philosophers,  the  various  schools,  and 
the  festive  scenes  by  which  the  cares  of  life  are  cheated  of 
their  prey,  —  he  would  have  another  impression,  and  believe 
that  this  was  in  very  truth  the  famous  city  of  Athens.  The 
hospitality  of  the  citizens  makes  the  stay  of  the  stranger  agree- 
able,  and  induces  an  oblivion  of  slavery.  The  city  abounds 
with  supplies  for  every  want  and  the  means  of  gratifying  every 
desire,  the  neighboring  towns  being  but  its  suburbs.  The  in- 
habitants are  prompt  to  honor  all  artists ;  and  though  among 
the  Attics  there  are  busybodies  and  gossips  who  pass  their 
time  in  spying  out  the  conduct  of  strangers,  yet  the  genuine 
Athenians  are  magnanimous,  simple  in  manners,  trusty  friends, 
and  accomplished  critics  of  the  arts.  In  short,  as  mucb  as  other 
cities  excel  the  country  in  the  means  of  enjoyment,  so  much 
does  Athens  surpass  all  other  cities.     As  Lysippus  says : 

"  Hast  Athens  seen  not  1     Then  thou  art  a  log. 
Hast  seen  and  not  been  caught  1     Thou  art  an  ass." 

Leaving  the  city,  the  traveller  takes  the  road  to  Oropus, 
which  is  rough  and  hilly,  but  on  account  of  the  frequent  places 
of  refreshment  and  the  beauty  of  the  views,  is  not  fatiguing 
to  the  traveller.  Of  the  city  of  Oropus  he  thinks  very  ill 
on  account  of  the  dishonesty  of  the  innkeepers  and  the  im- 
positions of  the  custom-house,  apropos  to  which  Jie  quotes  a 
couple  of  lines  from  Xenon :  — 

"  They  all  are  publicans,  and  robbers  all ; 
May  the  Oropians  have  an  evil  end  ! " 

Hence  he  proceeds  to  Tanagra,  through  a  wooded  region 


OUTLINE   VIEW   OF   HELLENIC   CULTURE.  2131 

planted  with  olives,  and  wholly  free  from  the  fear  of  robbers. 
The  city  is  elevated,  the  fronts  of  the  houses  beautifully 
adorned  with  encaustic  pictures,  and  the  inhabitants  of  a  very 
different  character  from  the  Oropians.  They  are  wealthy,  but 
not  extravagant  in  their  way  of  life ;  conspicuous  for  the  ob- 
servance of  the  virtues  of  justice,  faith,  and  hospitality ;  liberal 
to  the  poor  of  the  city  and  to  foreign  mendicants ;  utterly 
averse  from  filthy  lucre.  It  is  the  safest  city  in  Bceotia  for 
strangers  to  reside  in ;  for  there  is  in  the  character  of  the  in- 
habitants a  downright  and  austere  detestation  of  vice,  because 
they  are  contented  with  their  lot  and  love  industry.  "  I  ob- 
served in  this  city  not  the  slightest  inclination  to  any  species 
of  intemperance,  which  is  generally  the  cause  of  the  greatest 
crimes  among  mankind."  From  this  model  city  our  traveller 
proceeds  to  Plataea,  the  citizens  of  which,  he  remarks,  have 
nothing  else  to  say  for  themselves,  except  that  they  are  colo- 
nists of  Athens,  and  that  the  battle  between  the  Greeks  and 
Persians  occurred  there. 

On  arriving  at  Thebes,  by  a  smooth  and  level  road,  he  gives 
a  somewhat  graphic  description  of  the  city,  and  sketches  the 
character  of  the  inhabitants.  "  The  city  lies  in  the  midst  of 
the  Boeotian  plain,  and  is  about  seventy  stadia  in  circumfer- 
ence. It  is  entirely  smooth,  round,  and  its  soil  of  a  dark  color. 
Though  an  ancient  city,  it  has  been  recently  laid  out  with 
greater  regularity,  having  been  three  times  destroyed,  as  his- 
tory informs  us,  on  account  of  the  overbearing  and  haughty 
character  of  the  inhabitants.  It  is  well  adapted  to  the  breeding 
of  horses,  being  all  well-watered,  verdant,  and  deep-soiled,  and 
having  more  gardens  than  any  other  city  in  Greece ;  for  two 
rivers  flow  through  the  plain  that  lies  round  the  city,  irrigating 
the  whole  of,  it.  Water  is  also  brought  under  ground  from  the 
Cadmeia  by  pipes  said  to  have  been  constructed  by  ancient 
Cadmus.  Such  is  the  city.  The  inhabitants  are  high-spirited, 
and  wonderful  for  their  sanguine  hopefulness  in  the  affairs  of 
life  ;  but  they  are  bold,  overbearing,  and  haughty,  quarrelsome, 
indifferent  alike  to  stranger  and  to  native,  and  scorners  of  justice. 


292  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

Disputes  arising  out  of  trade  they  will  not  settle  by  argument, 
but  apply  to  them  the  law  of  violence  and  force  of  arms.  Only 
controversies  arising  from  the  gymnastic  games  are  referred  to 
the  judicial  tribunals.  Thus  it  happens  that  a  law-case  occurs 
scarcely  once  in  thirty  years.  For  whoever  ventures  to  speak 
of  such  a  thing  among  the  people,  and  does  not  instantly  quit 
Boeotia,  but  remains  for  the  shortest  possible  time  in  the  city, 
is  watched  by  those  who  object  to  the  trial  of  causes  at  law, 
and  falls  by  a  violent  death  at  night.  Murders  are  committed 
among  them  for  very  trifling  causes.  Such  is  the  general  char- 
acter of  the  men,  though  there  are  some  honorable  exceptions, 
noble-minded  persons,  and  worthy  of  the  highest  regard.  The 
women  have  the  noblest  presence,  the  tallest  figures,  the  most 
dignified  and  harmonious  movement,  of  a.ny  in  Greece.  The 
covering  they  wear  on  the  head  is  such  that  the  face  seems  to 
be  concealed  by  a  mask,  the  eyes  only  being  visible,  but  all 
the  other  parts  hidden  by  the  garments,  which  are  all  white. 
Their  hair  is  yellow,  and  bound  in  a  knot  on  the  top  of  the 
head,  which  is  called  by  the  natives  a  torch.  They  wear  thin 
and  low  shoes,  of  a  red  color,  so  laced  as  to  leave  the  foot 
almost  naked.  The  women  have  a  pleasant  voice,  while  that 
of  the  men  is  harsh  and  disagreeable.  The  city  is  very  delight- 
ful to  pass  the  summer  in ;  for  it  has  an  abundance  of  cool 
water  and  numerous  well-planted  gardens.  It  enjoys  pleasant 
breezes,  has  a  green  aspect,  and  is  well  supplied  with  provisions 
and  summer  fruits.  But  it  is  detestable  in  winter  on  account 
of  the  scarcity  of  fuel,  and  on  account  of  the  rivers  and  the 
winds.  Snow  falls  there  also,  and  it  has  a  great  deal  of 
mud." 

After  visiting  one  or  two  more  places,  the  traveller  sums  up 
his  observations  on  Boeotia  by  quoting  a  popular  description 
of  the  qualities  belonging  to  the  chief  towns.  "  The  love  of 
filthy  lucre  dwells  in  Oropus ;  envy  in  Tanagra ;  quarrel- 
someness in  Thespise ;  avarice  in  Anthedon ;  meddling  in 
Coroneia ;  bragging  in  Plataea ;  the  fever  in  Onchestus ;  stu- 
idity  in  Haliartus.     These  misfortunes  have  gathered  from 


OUTLINE   VIEW   OF   HELLENIC   CULTURE.  293 

every  part  of  Greece  into  the  cities  of  Boeotia;  so  that  th« 
counsel  of  Pherecrates  is  justified, 

•  If  thou  art  wise,  run  from  Boeotia.' "' 

Leaving  Boeotia,  he  passes  over  to  Chalcis  in  Euboea,  which 
he  describes  as  a  city  well  furnished  with  gymnasia,  galleries, 
temples,  theatres,  pictures,  and  statues  ;  and  the  people  as 
polished,  fond  of  science,  kind  to  strangers,  quiet  and  orderly. 

The  narrative  suddenly  breaks  off  here,  and  the  next  pas- 
sage  contains  the  author's  opinion  of  the  extent  of  Hellas  or 
Greece,  —  including  within  its  boundaries  Thessaly  on  the 
north,  because  the  original  Hellas,  from  which  the  name  ex- 
tended over  the  country,  was  a  town  in  that  region  founded 
by  Hellen. 

From  these  few  touches  we  may  form  some  idea  of  what  Di- 
caearchus  meant  by  the  Life  of  Greece ;  and  from  the  pointed 
and  graphic  manner  in  which  he  brings  out  the  peculiarities 
of  cities,  countries,  and  men,  even  under  the  disadvantages  of 
an  abstract,  we  may  judge  with  what  ability  the  work  was  ex- 
ecuted. It  is  a  most  interesting  fragment,  not  only  from  the 
talent  of  the  author,  but  from  the  time  in  which  he  lived  and 
wrote ;  from  the  fresh  picture  of  contemporary  life ;  from  the 
notices  of  little  characteristic  circumstances,  which  perish  with 
the  occasion,  never  to  be  recovered  unless  recorded  at  the  mo- 
ment. He  lived  four  centuries  earlier  than  Strabo,  six  centu- 
ries earlier  than  Pausanias,  and  six  centuries  and  a  half  earlier 
than  Athenaeus, — the  three  authors  to  whom  we  are  chiefly  in- 
debted for  our  knowledge  of  the  details  of  ancient  life.  Here 
and  there  his  sentences  open  most  curious  and  instructive 
glimpses  into  the  buried  scenes  on  which  humanity  was  once  so 
busy.  The  inhabitants  of  towns  of  which  now  scarce  a  vestigp 
remains  repeople  the  silent  and  deserted  streets ;  temples,  the- 
atres, galleries,  rise  in  their  fair  proportions ;  the  throng  and 
tumult  of  commerce  return  to  fill  the  solitudes ;  the  Athenian, 
Oropian,  Tanagrsean,  and  Theban,  each  with  the  several  peculi- 
arities of  form  and  character  whicn  marked  him  in  the  day  of 
his  historical  existence,  gaze  upon  us  from  the  vivid  page  ;  and 


294  THE  LIFE   OF   GEEECE. 

the  white-robea  countrywomen  of  Pindar,  moving  with  grace- 
ful and  rhythmic  step,  come  forward  from  the  dark  and  solemn 
past,  fix  upon  us  their  melancholy  eyes  gleaming  out  through 
the  envious  veil,  and  then  vanish  into  the  unfathomable  ob- 
scurity from  which  they  emerged  to  a  momentary  renewal  of 
their  existence. 

The  life  of  Greece  was  a  life  of  a  thousand  years.  A  na- 
tion, like  an  individual,  comes  upon  the  stage  in  the  freshness 
and  vigor  of  youth,  passes  to  its  maturity,  begins  to  decay,  and 
finally  yields  its  place  to  others.  It  has  been  recently  said, 
that  this  analogy  has  no  basis  in  necessary  truth ;  that  it  is  the 
creation  of  fancy ;  that  national  life  is  not,  like  individual  life, 
made  up  of  perishable  elements,  and  has  no  inherent  principle 
of  decay.  Perhaps  this  is  theoretically  correct,  or  at  least  plau- 
sible ;  but  the  sources  of  a  nation's  character  and  the  means  of  a 
nation's  growth  are  changeable  and  exhaustible.  The  faith  and 
enthusiasm  which  belong  to  the  period  of  its  youth — the  period 
of  construction  and  development  —  do  not  endure  forever.  Heu 
prisea  fides,  was  the  natural  exclamation  of  the  Roman  poet, 
when  Rome  meant  the  world ;  but  the  ancient  Roman  spirit  was 
felt  to  be  dying  out.  The  physical  resources  of  a  country  do  not 
last  always  ;  and  the  crowded  population  of  one  epoch  dwin- 
dles away,  leaving  another  age  to  wonder  how  it  could  ever 
have  been.  Forests  are  cut  down  ;  the  soil  is  exhausted  ;  the 
fertilizing  rivers  shrink  to  streamlets,  or  entirely  desert  their 
ancient  beds.  Perhaps  art  might  resist  the  gradual  exhaustion 
of  nature ;  but  the  attractions  of  new  regions  draw  off  the  ad- 
venturous spirits,  and  the  world  is  never  full.  The  lines  of 
commercial  intercourse  change.  The  great  land-roads  are 
deserted  for  the  more  expeditious  and  less  expensive  passage 
by  sea.  New  and  more  convenient  centres  are  found ;  and 
imperceptibly  the  splendors  of  the  ancient  seats  become  dim, 
and  grass  grows  up  through  the  crevices  in  the  pavements. 
Power  flies  to  other  strongholds,  and  empires  that  once  ruled 
the  world  fall  into  inward  and  outward  decline.  Where  are 
Babylon,  Persia,  Syria,  Egypt?     It  was  not  vice  alone  that 


OUTLINE   7IEW   OF  HELLENIC   CULTURE.  295 

destroyed  them.  It  was  a  combination  of  causes,  physical, 
moral,  and  mental.  It  was  the  ever-shifting  relations  of  the 
world.  The  process  goes  on  around  us ;  but  we  do  not  heed 
it.  Old  communities  are  decreasing ;  young  communities  are 
increasing ;  change,  fluctuation,  death,  are  written  en  all  human 
things ;  development  and  dissolution  are  the  law  to  which  men 
and  nations  are  alike  subjected.  Some  have  a  longer,  others  a 
shorter  term  of  existence  ;  but  the  longest  is  a  mere  span,  nor 
has  any  medicine  yet  been  found  to  arrest  or  conquer  death 
in  either.  The  oldest  nations  now  on  the  European  stage  have 
not  reached  the  age  of  Greece  and  Rome.  Farther  east,  the 
existence  of  nations  has  been  artificially  protracted ;  but  it  is 
only  a  life  in  death.  We  are  less  than  a  century  old ;  and  we 
can  hardly  infer  an  endless  existence  from  the  unexampled 
rapidity  of  our  childhood's  growth.  Rather  let  us  fear  the 
seeds  of  a  premature  decay,  unless  we  guard  our  national  con- 
stitution by  a  wise  temperance,  justice,  moderation,  integrity, 
morality,  religion,  —  the  laws  of  national  health. 

The  life  of  Greece,  as  I  have  said,  may  be  considered  as 
lasting,  effectively,  a  thousand  years.  How  long  was  the 
period  which  preceded  its  actual  a'ppearance  on  the  stage, — 
how  many  ages  were  consumed  in  combining  the  elements  of 
its  being  and  character,  and  preparing  it  for  its  great  career,  — 
it  is  impossible  to  say.  That  this  period  was  neither  short 
nor  unimportant,  the  length,  variety,  and  brilliancy  of  its  his- 
torical existence  afford  us  trustworthy  proof. 

The  country,  as  we  have  seen,  was  admirably  fitted  for  an 
energetic  development  of  intellectual  power.  The  face  of  na- 
ture was  young  and  fresh  ;  its  features  diversified  and  beautiful. 
Mountain,  hill,  and  vale ;  woodland  and  meadow ;  rivers,  lakes, 
harbors;  fertile  plains  alternating  with  hard  and  uneven  soil : 
a  climate  of  unsurpassed  healthfulness  and  loveliness,  and  of 
every  variety ;  the  whole  surrounded  by  the  waters  of  the 
Mediterranean  Sea,  along  whose  shores  were  clustered  the 
noblest  seats  of  ancient  culture,  —  these  were  the  framework 
within  which  Hellenic  life  unfolded  its  fairest  and  most  fra- 


296  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

grant  flowers.  Here  was  laid  the  only  true  foundation  of  civil 
society,  in  the  family  relation,  extending  the  range  of  its  influ- 
ence to  the  remotest  branches  of  kindred.  Here  were  formed 
political  societies,  in  which  constitutions  were  modelled,  em- 
bracing every  principle  of  social  and  political  science.  Here 
poetry  unfolded  itself  under  the  most  inspiring  circumstances 
and  the  most  favoring  auspices.  Here  eloquence  was  applied 
to  its  highest  and  noblest  ends,  with  a  consummate  mastery  of 
the  resources  of  speech,  logic,  and  intellectual  force.  Here 
belief  in  the  existence  of  the  gods  gave  to  every  form  of  nature 
and  every  affection  of  the  human  heart  its  relation  to  the 
divine  nature,  and  clothed  itself  in  the  glories  of  plastic  art. 
Here  sprang  up  the  exact  sciences,  geometry,  astronomy ;  the 
intellectual  science  of  the  philosophy  of  the  human  mind ;  the 
moral  or  ethical  science  of  duty  towards  God  and  man.  Here 
a  noble  system  of  education,  the  germs  of  which  were  planted 
in  Greece  long  before  history  was  able  to  record  them,  devel- 
oped the  faculties  of  the  mind  and  the  powers  of  the  body  in 
harmonious  proportion.  Here  history,  an  art  closely  allied  to 
political  liberty,  not  only  began  its  career,  but  reached  its 
highest  perfection.  These  are  the  springs,  the  momenta,  of  the 
life  of  Greece.  For  the  life  of  a  nation  grows  out  of  the  family 
affections ;  it  is  strengthened  by  the  patriotic  spirit,  which  sees 
the  welfare  of  the  individual  bound  up  in  the  welfare  of  the 
state ;  the  chastisement  of  suffering  and  disaster  nerves  it  to 
brave  endurance  ;  the  sunshine  of  national  prosperity  expands 
it  into  luxuriant  growth ;  the  teachings  of  nature  give  it  color- 
ing ;  the  splendors  of  creative  genius  exalt  and  refine  it ;  let- 
ters and  art  remove  it  from  rudeness ;  poetry  kindles  its  fer- 
vor ;  eloquence  heartens  it  to  the  great  contests  which  it  may 
have  to  breast  before  its  day  has  risen  to  the  height  of  heaven ; 
philosophy  shows  its  intellectual  relations ;  religion  opens  its 
view  into  the  other  world ;  on  the  breast  of  Mother  Earth  the 
soul  and  character  of  a  nation  lovingly  repose  ;  underneath  the 
sky,  its  teeming  energies  are  wakened  into  thrills  of  ecstasy 
action  tasks  its  strength,  by  putting  the  ideal  to  the  test  of 


OUTLINE  VIEW   OF  EELLENIC   CULTURE.  297 

reality ;  and  so  by  unnumbered  influences,  some  too  subtile  to 
be  expressed  in  human  speech,  is  evolved  by  slow  degree? 
that  wonderful  phenomenon  of  creative  power  and  goodness, 
a  nation's  life. 

How  far  the  development  of  the  early  life  of  Greece  wa?. 
directly  affected  by  intercourse  with  the  primitive  seats  in 
Asia,  it  is  of  course  impossible  to  say.  How  far  the  civilization 
of  Egypt  influenced  the  culture  of  Greece,  in  art  and  religion 
especially,  comes  more  within  the  scope  of  investigation ;  but 
even  this  cannot  be  precisely  determined.  The  poetical  liter- 
ature of  the  Sanscrit-speaking  nations  followed  the  same  order 
of  growth  with  the  poetical  literature  of  Greece ;  but  we  find 
few  analogies  between  the  mythologies.  The  germs  of  the 
doctrines  taught  by  every  school  of  philosophy  in  Greece  have 
oeen  discerned  by  Oriental  scholars  in  the  teaching  of  the 
Brahminical  sages ;  and  it  has  been  supposed  that  the  philoso- 
phers of  Greece  travelled  into  the  remote  East,  in  search  of 
wisdom.  This  is  possible,  but  doubtful.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Greeks  themselves  recognized  in  the  names  and  attributes 
of  the  Egyptian  deities  the  types  of  their  own.  Thus  Neith 
became  the  goddess  Athene.  Some  ideas  of  architecture  and 
sculpture  were  doubtless  suggested  by  the  stupendous  works 
which  filled  the  valley  of  the  Nile.  Solid  walls,  columns  with 
ornamented  capitals,  supporting  architrave,  frieze,  and  cornice, 
gigantic  statues  of  gods  and  heroes,  existed  there  long  before 
the  earliest  marble  temple  rose  on  a  headland,  acropolis,  or  hill- 
top of  Greece.  The  art  of  writing,  first  by  pictures,  secondly 
by  symbolical  signs,  thirdly  by  pictures  standing  for  whole 
words  or  names,  and  fourthly  by  figures  standing  for  the  initial . 
sounds  of  the  names  of  objects,  or  alphabetic  writing,  had  been 
invented  in  Egypt  two  thousand  years  before  the  age  of 
Homer.  All  these  things  were  well  known  to  the  authors  of 
the  earliest  civilization  in  Greece,  and  may  have  furnished  a 
starting-point.  But  the  grandeur  of  immensity  marked  the 
architecture  of  the  Nile ;  solemn  repose  was  expressed  in  the 
stony  faces  which  crowded  its  temples  and  propylaea  ;   all  were 


298  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

built  for  eternity ;  but  the  spirit  of  beauty  was  not  there ;  the 
:dea  of  fitness  and  proportion  was  not  there.  Enormous  masses 
were  piled  up  by  mechanical  contrivances,  the  secret  of  which 
we  know  not ;  huge  figures,  awkward,  stiff,  ugly,  were  reared 
for  gods  and  men.  Beauty  was  not  the  attribute  of  Egyptian 
-art.  Whatever  else  the  Greeks  may  have  borrowed  from  the 
land  of  the  Pharaohs,  beauty  they  did  not  borrow.  In  this 
supreme  quality  and  vital  principle  of  their  life,  they  were 
wholly  original.  Their  first  essays  were  marked  by  a  rude 
strength.  The  iEginetan  marbles  have  the  stiffness  of  Egypt ; 
and  some  of  the  ancient  figures  of  the  gods  would  not  have 
found  themselves  out  of  place  in  company  with  the  sienite 
monsters  of  Luxor  and  Karnak.  But  as  soon  as  the  Greek  got 
command  of  his  materials  and  tools,  he  broke  loose  from  the 
ancient  traditions,  and  followed  the  instincts  of  his  genius,  which 
led  him  into  the  land  of  beauty.  Through  the  Phoenicians, 
who  completed  the  invention  of  alphabetic  writing  by  select- 
ing from  the  Egyptian  characters  representing  initial  sounds, 
the  Greeks  received  this  art,  and  turned  it  to  its  highest  pur- 
poses. The  Egyptians  used  it  for  monumental  inscriptions, 
for  papyrus-records  in  the  tombs  of  the  departed,  and  perhaps 
for  some  of  the  transactions  of  life ;  but  never  apart  from  the 
proper  hieroglyphics.  The  Phoenicians,  abandoning  the  hiero- 
glyphics, employed  writing  as  a  convenient  instrument  for  com- 
mercial transactions,  and,  in  the  course  of  time,  for  the  preser- 
vation of  their  national  annals ;  but  they  never  rose  into  the 
higher  regions  of  literary  culture,  and  so  they  left  but  the  shadow 
of  a  mighty  name.  The  Greeks,  on  the  other  hand,  seizing  this 
art,  which  was  communicated  to  them  by  the  older  nations, 
perfected  it,  and  made  it  the  means  of  laying  up,  for  a  life  after 
life,  the  best  part  of  their  national  existence.  In  this  consisted 
their  originality.  They  made  whatever  they  received  their 
own,  by  working  it  over  again.  They  breathed  into  rude  ma- 
terials and  ungainly  forms  the  elegance  and  grace  of  their  own 
brilliant  spirits.  They  turned  inanimate  matter  into  the  almost 
breathing  forms  of  art.  They  raised  death  into  life,  and 
stamped  upon  life  the  seal  of  immortality. 


OUTLINE   VIEW    OF   HELLENIC   CULTURE.  IW 

The  life  of  Greece  commences,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the 
•mte-historical  times.  The  legends  of  gods  and  heroes  occupy 
the  background  of  the  picture.  The  princes  who  waged  the 
war  of  Troy,  and  their  predecessors,  the  contemporaries  of 
Hercules  and  Laomedon,  emerge  into  a  half-poetic,  half-historic 
light.  They  are  the  chivalry  of  the  classical  ages,  and  are  de- 
scended from  the  legendary  gods.  They  appear  to  us  as  the 
rulers  of  a  series  of  kingdoms,  mostly  along  the  coasts  of 
Greece,  with  kingly  authority  not  unlike  that  of  the  princes 
and  barons  of  the  Middle  Ages.  They  are  more  or  less 
related,  either  by  consanguinity  or  by  the  tie  of  friendship ; 
but  in  political  forms  and  powers  they  stand  wholly  indepen- 
dent of  one  another.  Sometimes  they  unite  in  temporary  con- 
federacies for  special  and  limited  purposes.  The  invasions  of 
Troy,  the  second  of  which  furnished  the  legends  for  the  divine 
tale  of  Homer,  resulted  from  such  a  combination.  The  chief 
portions  of  the  Grecian  mainland,  from  Thessaly  on  one  side 
nearly  up  to  Illyria  on  the  other,  are  at  this  era  settled  by 
established  communities,  governed  apparently  by  similar  polit- 
ical authorities,  but  already  discriminated  from  one  another  in 
national  character  and  tendencies,  as  we  see  in  the  living  pic- 
tures of  Homer.  They  are  organized  into  classes,  —  princes, 
nobles,  freemen,  and  slaves.  They  have  their  splendid  palaces, 
adorned,  it  may  be,  with  the  display  of  barbaric  art.  The 
principles  of  justice,  understood  to  have  come  from  the  father 
of  gods  and  men,  restrain  the  arbitrary  temper  of  the  rulers, 
and  secure  the  rights  of  the  governed.  Splendid  furniture 
and  stores  of  richly  wrought  garments  are  among  the  posses- 
sions of  the  wealthy.  Flocks  and  herds  fill  the  pastures  and 
cover  the  hillsides.  Agriculture  in  all  its  departments  has 
made  considerable  progress,  as  we  see  by  the  description  of 
the  shield  of  Achilles.  Shins  of  great  size,  propelled  in  part 
by  oars  and  in  part  by  sails,  have  been  built,  and  Grecian 
sailors  have  coasted  a  considerable  part  of  the  Mediterranean. 
Priests  interpret  the  will  of  the  gods,  and  exercise  a  spiritual 
power  over  the  laity,  respected  and  feared,  though  not  always 


300  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

obeyed,  by  kings.  The  minstrel,  with  his  harp,  fills  the  hall  of 
feasting  with  the  music  of  his  song.  He  rouses  the  enthusi- 
asm of  his  listeners  by  chanting  the  lays  of  famous  men,  and 
creates  a  popular  poetry  destined  to  ripen  into  the  glories  of 
the  Iliad  and  Odyssey.  The  most  distinguished  personages 
of  the  heroic  society  are  the  chiefs,  the  soothsayers,  the  ship- 
builders, and  the  carpenters.  Odysseus  is  a  first-rate  work- 
man, as  the  craft  he  built  to  escape  from  Calypso's  isle  abun- 
dantly testifies.  Achilles  can  cook  as  well  as  eat  a  sirloin  of 
beef.  Young  ladies  of  princely  birth  find  it  not  beneath  them 
to  do  the  family  washing  in  tubs  by  the  river-side :  nothing  is 
said  of  soap.  Queens  embroider  and  weave :  Helen  embroiders 
a  battle-piece,  and  Penelope  gives  to  Odysseus  a  garment  on 
which  she  has  wrought  the  picture  of  a  chase. 

The  life  of  the  divine  beings  in  whom  the  popular  faith 
is  centred  resembles  the  life  of  man  on  earth.  Zeus  is  the 
head  of  the  household  on  Olympus,  and  he  sometimes  finds  h 
hard  enough  to  keep  its  unruly  members  in  order.  Whether 
the  starting-point  of  the  ancient  mythology  was  the  primitive 
belief  in  the  unity  of  the  Divine  nature,  as  many  suppose,  may 
be  doubted ;  and  yet  the  Divine  power  is  sometimes  referred 
to,  as  if  the  expression  sprang  from  a  deeply  seated  though 
darkling  consciousness  of  this  great  truth.  But  the  common 
conception  was  no  doubt  polytheistic.  The  gods  were  for  the 
most  part  understood  to  be  supernatural  existences  indeed,  but 
with  characters  endowed  with  the  qualities  of  human  beings 
on  a  larger  scale.  Again,  the  vivid  imagination  of  the  early 
Greek  gave  life  and  spirit  to  all  the  objects  by  which  he  was 
surrounded,  —  to  the  tree,  the  wind,  the  storm.  The  appear- 
ances of  nature  suggested  to  him  a  power  in  and  above  na- 
ture, and  were  moulded,  in  his  plastic  conception,  into  con- 
scious and  distinct  personalities.  Passions  and  affections  were 
at  first  inspirations,  and  then  became  embodied  deities.  Pan, 
the  shepherd-god,  is  worshipped  among  the  mountains,  along 
the  shores,  and  on  islands  laved  or  lashed  by  the  ocean- 
waves.     Temples  and  altars  rise  to  Poseidon,  shaker  of  the 


OUTLINE   VIEW   OF   HELLENIC   CULTURE.  301 

earth.  The  lovely  and  majestic  form  of  the  virgin-goddess 
Athene  represents  the  genius  of  wisdom  and  the  spirit  of  pro 
gress.  The  love  of  man  for  woman  rises  from  the  waves  in 
the  sea-born  Aphrodite,  afterwards  embodied  in  the  statue 
that  enchants  the  world.  Women  sometimes  scolded  their 
lords ;  and  so  the  golden-throned  Hera,  the  wife  of  Zeus,  keeps 
a  watchful  eye  upon  the  Thunderer,  who  is  not  always  to  be 
trusted  out  of  her  sight,  and  gives  him  tongue  like  any  mortal 
termagant.  Men  sometimes  lie,  and  Hermes  begins  to  fib  the 
moment  he  is  born.  So,  partly,  it  may  be,  from  primitive  tra- 
dition, but  chiefly  from  the  forms,  elements,  and  powers  of 
nature  and  the  passions  of  the  human  heart,  the  plastic  imagi- 
nation of  the  Greek  moulded  the  crowd  of  mythological  per- 
sonages that  filled  the  popular  mind,  and  in  material  forms 
dwelt  in  the  marble  temples,  on  which  genius  and  treasure 
alike  were  lavished  with  uncalculating  liberality.  Behind  the 
motley  assemblage  of  the  Olympian  deities  stood  a  darkly  ap- 
prehended power  or  nature,  to  which  even  the  gods  themselves 
must  yield  obedience.  The  ruling  authorities  of  heaven  bore 
another  resemblance  to  humanity;  they  had  been  subject  to 
revolution  and  overthrow.  Several  changes  of  dynasty  had 
taken  place  before  Zeus  rose  to  power;  and  even  he  had 
some  misgivings  that  his  throne  was  not  completely  secure, 
and,  like  mortal  monarchs,  banished,  imprisoned,  or  bound  in 
chains  the  unfriendly  deities  who  might  be  the  nucleus  of 
a  dangerous  opposition.  The  Titans  were  not  only  over- 
whelmed with  mountains,  in  the  battle  which  decided  the  dis- 
puted title  to  sovereignty,  but  were  shut  up  afterwards  in  Tar- 
tarus. Prometheus,  the  philanthropist,  as  a  suspected  charac- 
ter, was  chained  and  bolted  to  a  rock  where  the  vulture  daily 
came  to  gnaw  his  liver.  This  purely  human  element  in  the 
elder  mythology  explains  the  discontent  of  the  later  philoso- 
phers with  the  whole  system.  Plato  thought  the  things  said 
by  the  poets  of  the  characters  and  conduct  of  the  gods  wholly 
unworthy  of  them,  and  of  evil  moral  tendency  in  their  influ- 
ence on  the  young.     Houier,  on  this  account,  was  to  be  e* 


302  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

eluded  from  his  imaginary  republic.  The  free  treatment  of 
the  deities,  as  in  the  Homeric  Hymns,  and  more  remarkably 
in  the  Attic  comedy,  —  as  in  the  Birds,  the  Frogs,  and  other 
pieces,  —  sprang,  no  doubt,  from  this  same  human  conception 
of  the  nature  of  the  gods,  and  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  dis- 
play of  irreverence,  just  as  the  fairies  in  Shakespeare  are 
clothed  in  the  attributes  of  humanity,  and  made  susceptible  of 
jealousies  and  passions,  without  trenching  on  the  popular  rev- 
erence for  supernatural  persons  and  objects. 

The  union  of  the  Greeks  against  the  nations  inhabiting  the 
opposite  shore  of  the  ^Egean  first  brought  them  into  a  con- 
sciousness of  Hellenic  nationality.  At  what  period  this  took 
place  there  are  no  means  of  deciding  within  several  centuries. 
All  that  we  know  about  it  is  drawn  from  the  older  legends 
alluded  to  in  the  Homeric  poems,  and  from  the  account  of  the 
great  Trojan  war ;  and  here  again  no  two  persons  will  agree 
in  drawing  the  line  between  historic  verity  and  poetical  fiction. 
Some  reject  the  whole  as  a  brilliant  invention  of  the  Ionian 
bard ;  others  receive  nearly  the  whole  as  matter  of  fact,  metri- 
cally recorded;  others  believe  in  a  foundation  of  fact,  with  a 
prodigious  superstructure  of  fancy.  A  middle  ground  is  prob- 
ably the  true  one.  The  great  facts  which  it  is  impossible  to 
doubt  are,  that,  at  a  considerable  period  before  the  era  of  the 
Olympiads,  that  is,  before  the  eighth  century  B.C.,  there  was  a 
flourishing  civilization  on  the  islands  and  coasts  of  Asia  Minor; 
that  these  regions  had  been  colonized  by  .iEolians,  Ionians, 
and  Dorians,  from  the  Grecian  mainland ;  that  the  geograph- 
ical relations  of  the  colonies  corresponded  nearly  with  the  geo- 
graphical relations  of  the  races  on  the  mainland ;  that  the  col- 
onists carried  with  them  the  language  and  dialects  of  their 
fathers,  and  a  goodly  store  of  heroic  legends  and  religious 
and  ballad  poetry ;  that  they  cherished  the  memory  of  the 
heroes  who  fought  at  Troy,  and  from  whom  their  principa. 
eaders  claimed  descent;  and  that  they  were  brought  into 
the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  scenes  where  the  nine 
years'  warfare  had  been  waged,  so  that  to  the  pure  Hellenic 


OUTLINE   VIEW   OF  HELLENIC   CULTURE.  303 

traditions  were  added  those  of  the  Asiatic  descendants  of  their . 
antagonists.  We  may  say,  at  least,  when  we  take  these  facts 
into  the  account,  that  the  story  of  the  war  of  Troy,  with  the 
delineation  of  Grecian  life  wrought  into  that  imperishable  tale, 
is  a  very  natural  one  in  its  outline  and  its  principal  features. 
So  far  I  believe  it  to  be  a  true  history;  but  it  comes  to  us 
embellished  with  the  coloring  of  the  second  period  of  the  life 
of  Greece,  —  the  period  of  ^Eolian  and  Ionian  culture  on  the 
eastern  side  of  the  .iiEgean.  This  period  embraces  the  flour- 
ishing age  of  epic  poetry,  wherein  the  Greeks,  carrying  with 
them  their  fresh  and  youthful  energies  into  the  neighborhood 
of  an  elder  civilization,  suddenly  blossomed  into  a  free  and  beau- 
tiful life  under  the  soft  skies  of  the  fairest  region  in  the  world. 
"  The  fame  of  Ionian  refinement,"  says  Jacobs,  "  filled  the 
world ;  the  works  of  Ionian  poetry  and  prose  suffused  every 

heart  of  sensibility  with  delight Here  was  enjoyed  a  life 

exempt  from  drudgery,  among  fair  festivals  and  solemn  assem- 
blies, fall  of  sensibility,  exhilarating  joy,  innocent  curiosity, 
and  childlike  faith.  Surrendered  to  the  outer  world,  and 
inclined  to  all  that  was  attractive  by  novelty,  beauty,  and 
grandeur,  here  the  people  listened  with  the  greatest  eagerness 
to  the  history  of  the  heroic  men  whose  deeds,  adventures, 
and  wanderings  filled  a  former  age  with  their  renown,  and, 
when  they  were  echoed  in  song,  moved  to  ecstasy  the  breasts 
of  the  hearers.  It  was  thus  that  the  poets  first  took  up 
those  heroic  legends  here  as  the  most  favorable  materials  for 
their  art,  and  from  the  legend  by  degrees  sprang  the  epic 
poem,  —  the  narrative  clear,  imaginative,  picturesque,  varied, 
and  minute,  as  the  youthful  feelings  of  the  age  and  of  the  lis- 
tening multitude  required.  That  the  deed  should  be  mirrored 
in  the  song ;  that  every  form  should  stand  out  distinct  and 
vivid ;  that  even  in  single  parts  the  whole  should  be  shadowed 
forth  ;  in  a  word,  that  the  glorious  world  of  heroes  should  move 
in  perfect  dignity  and  serene  poetic  splendor,  —  this  was  the 
aim  of  the  epic  poet,  as  of  every  one  in  whose  fresh  and  vig- 
orous fancy  a  subject  kindled  into  life  is  struggling  for  utter- 


304  THE  LIFE  OF  GREECE. 

ance."  These  few  sentences  express  the  leading  idea  of  the 
life  of  Greece  as  it  appeared  in  Ionia.  But  as  this  beauty 
and  felicity  had  sprung  up  by  a  rapid  growth,  so  they  fell  into 
an  early  and  swift  decay.  No  matter:  Homer  was  left  to 
teach  the  coming  world. 

As  Ionia  declines  from  her  sudden  splendor,  the  scene 
of  Hellenic  life  shifts  to  the  slowly  growing  communities  on 
the  mainland.  The  heroic  families  die  out ;  new  men  ap- 
pear, with  new  ideas ;  loyalty  to  kings  yields  to  the  passion 
for  political  liberty.  Constitutions  supplant  the  old  de/xio-res, 
" — the  common  law  which  was  traced  upward  to  the  very 
throne  of  Zeus.  Arbitrary  will  surrenders  to  definite,  law- 
protected,  personal  rights.  The  tyrants,  who  hold  a  middle 
ground  between  the  heroic  monarchies  and  the  later  polities, 
after  a  brief  enjoyment  of  their  power,  are  toppled  down  and 
vanish  from  the  scene.  Dorian  life  is  most  strikingly  unfolded 
in  Sparta;  Ionian,  under  Attic  forms  and  modifications,  at 
Athens.  Sparta  adds  something  of  military  experience,  some- 
thing of  legislative  skill,  something  of  public  and  private  econ- 
omy, to  the  common  stock.  She  trains  her  citizens  to  brevity 
of  speech,  to  bravery,  to  black  broth,  and  iron  coins.  How 
strong  the  contrast  to  the  gayety  and  elegance  of  Ionia !  The 
legislation  of  Lycurgus  was  the  mould  in  which  these  iron  men 
were  cast  and  their  characters  determined  for  six  or  seven 
centuries.  This  stands  just  on  the  border  line  of  authentic 
history.  Within  this  line  the  legislation  of  Draco,  short-lived, 
and  unsuited  by  its  impracticable  severity  to  the  free  and  im- 
pulsive individuality  of  the  Ionian  race,  enjoyed  a  momentary 
existence,  and  fell  like  its  author,  who  was  smothered  with 
cloaks  at  the  theatre,  the  people  pretending  that  they  wished 
to  protect  him  from  the  cold. 

Next  came  Solon,  one  of  the  wisest  men  of  the  ancient 
world.  He  called  order  out  of  chaos ;  gave  liberty  a  legisla- 
tive existence;  surrounded  human  rights  with  the  ramparts 
Df  law ;  placed  the  sovereignty,  not  in  the  despotic  will  of  the 
individual,  but  in  the   deliberate  conclusions  of  the  popular 


OUTLINE   VIEW   OF  HELLENIC   CULTURE  305 

bodies,  reached  in  certain  prescribed  methods,  announced 
under  solemn  sanctions,  and  executed  in  due  form  by  the 
warrant  of  public  authority.  This  constitution  was  changed 
to  meet  the  exigencies  of  changing  times.  It  was  made  more 
and  more  democratic ;  but  the  principle  of  liberty  remained. 
It  was  overthrown  more  than  once  in  the  long  course  of 
Athenian  national  existence ;  but  it  was  always  soon  restored, 
The  longest  period  during  which  it  was  held  in  abeyance  was 
during  the  eight  ignominious  months  of  the  tyranny  of  the 
Thirty. 

The  other  states  of  Greece  grouped  themselves  about  these 
leading  capitals ;  —  those  in  which  the  aristocratic  or  oligarchi- 
cal element  prevailed  falling  naturally  into  the  circle  of  Spar- 
tan influence  ;  those  in  which  the  democratical  element  had 
the  preponderance  rallying  round  the  city  of  Athens.  These 
were  the  two  centres  of  Grecian  life.  It  was  Sparta  and 
Athens  that  breasted  the  shock  of  Persian  invasion,  —  that  at 
Thermopylae,  this  at  Marathon,  at  Salamis,  and  on  other  fields 
of  glory.  The  former  claimed  the  leadership  of  the  Grecian 
states  by  land ;  the  latter  asserted  it  by  sea.  Sparta  sacrificed 
the  citizen  to  the  state  ;  she  bound  the  natural  affections  in  the 
iron  bands  of  rule ;  she  was  always  clothed  in  armor.  The 
elegant  arts  were  her  scorn ;  eloquence,  her  aversion.  The 
bridegroom,  instead  of  peaceably  conducting  home  his  bride, 
must  needs  take  her  by  force,  as  if  she  were  a  piece  of  bag- 
gage belonging  to  a  hostile  army;  as  much  as  to  say  that  man, 
m  his  tenderest  relations,  is  nothing  but  a  fighter.  The  infant 
had  to  pass  the  scrutiny  of  hard-hearted  judges ;  and  if  he  did 
tot  promise  well  for  the  warlike  purposes  of  the  state,  he  was 
tossed  to  the  wolves  of  Taygetus.  The  mother  who  dismissed 
her  son  to  foreign  service  complacently  received  the  news 
that  he  had  fallen,  pierced  through  the  breast  by  a  hundred 
ipears,  on  the  field  of  battle.  The  drudgery  of  daily  life  was 
laid  upon  the  slaves.  Yet  these  cast-iron  men  sometimes 
oroke  through  all  the  restraints  of  law,  and  usage,  and  fixed 
prejudice,  and  let  Nature  have  her  way.     When  iron  melts, 

VOL.   I.  20 


306  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

it  runs  off  in  a  fiercely  glowing  liquid,  and  nothing  can  resist 
its  voracious  fervor.  When  the  Spartan  once  yielded,  there 
was  no  stopping  him.  The  austere  liver  became  the  all-de- 
vourer ;  the  rigid  moralist  wallowed  in  sensuality.  The  poet 
Alcman  —  the  favorite  poet  of  these  hardy  men  —  lets  his  im- 
agination run  riot  in  the  joys  of  eating  and  drinking.  The 
dishes  and  wines  on  which  he  dwells  with  a  gloating  affection 
make  an  odd  contrast  with  the  public  professions  of  self-denial 
and  frugality.  The  men  who  had  legislated  old  iron  into  a 
legal  tender  fell  the  most  readily  under  the  temptation  of 
Eastern  gold,  and  Sparta  became  far  more  venal  and  corrupt 
than  any  other  state  in  Greece.  So  universal  is  the  law  that 
one  extreme  leads  to  another. 

In  Athens,  on  the  other  hand,  the  wise  and  liberal  institu- 
tions of  Solon  rapidly  developed  an  extraordinary  measure  of 
public  virtue  and  private  happiness.  Men  of  wonderful  ge- 
nius educated  themselves  in  the  service  of  the  state,  and 
raised  her  to  the  height  of  glory  and  power.  Themistocles, 
Miltiades,  Conon,  Pericles,  —  what  country  can  surpass  these 
in  brilliancy  of  statesmanlike  gifts  and  effective  labors  ?  Aris- 
tides,  surnamed  the  Just,  —  the  ideal  of  incorruptible  integ- 
rity for  all  ages,  —  where  shall  his  superior  be  found  ?  And 
yet  the  institutions  of  Athens  encouraged  a  cheerful  enjoy- 
ment, and  every  elegance  that  can  embellish  life.  The  affec- 
tation of  Spartanism,  which  was  at  one  time  a  fashionable 
mode,  was  met  with  laughter  and  ridicule.  Hilarity  and 
confidence  marked  the  daily  intercourse  of  the  citizens ;  com- 
merce brought  to  them  the  luxuries  of  the  world ;  art  refined 
the  coarseness  of  existence  into  all  conceivable  beauty ;  con- 
versation, repartee,  discussion,  social  meetings  in  clubs,  sing- 
ing, dancing,  revelling,  the  play  of  wit,  enlivened  the  gay 
capital  with  an  endless  succession  of  pleasures  and  joys.  Yet, 
as  Pericles  boasted,  the  Athenians  were  as  brave  when  the 
crisis  for  bravery  came  as  were  those  rivals  who  made  peace 
only  the  image  of  war  by  the  continual  labor  of  preparation. 
"We  love  the  beautiful  with  economy;  we  pursue  wisdon 


OUTLINE   VIEW  OF  HELLENIC   CULTURE.  307 

without  effeminacy ;  we  use  wealth  for  real  occasions,  not  for 
ostentatious  boasting.  It  is  no  disgrace  to  any  one  to  con- 
fess his  poverty ;  but  it  is  a  shame  to  him  if  he  do  not  labor  to 
escape  it.  The  charge  of  public  and  private  affairs  belongs  to 
the  same  men,  and  those  who  are  occupied  with  common  labors 
well  understand  political  affairs.  We  alone  regard  the  man 
who  takes  no  interest  in  politics,  not  as  a  quiet  and  harmless 
person,  but  as  a  useless  one.  We  do  not  consider  eloquence 
as  an  obstacle  to  the  public  good ;  but  we  do  consider  it  as  a 
misfortune  not  to  be  instructed  by  previous  discussion  as  to 
the  measures  which  we  are  obliged  to  undertake.  For  we 
possess  this  characteristic  above  all  others,  that  we  are  at  once 
daring,  ^nd  accustomed  to  reflect  on  what  we  are  about  to 
take  in  hand ;  whereas  ignorance  gives  boldness  to  others, 
and  reflection  induces  delay.  They  should  be  rightly  ad- 
judged the  boldest-hearted  who,  knowing  most  clearly  the 
terrible  and  the  agreeable,  yet  shrink  not  for  this  reason  from 
dangers.  In  brief,  I  may  call  the  city  the  school  of  Greece, 
and  the  citizen  of  Athens  is  personally  best  fitted,  by  variety 
of  talent,  for  the  graceful  performance  of  all  the  duties  of  life." 
This,  no  doubt,  sounded  a  little  boastful  in  the  ears  of  the 
contemporary  world.  But  Pericles  was  right.  Athens  was 
the  school  of  Greece.  His  boast  fell  short  of  the  truth : 
Athens  is  the  school  of  the  civilized  world.  Think  of  her 
sculptors  and  painters,  —  the  Acropolis,  covered  with  temples 
and  peopled  by  more  than  three  thousand  marble  statues ;  call 
to  mind  her  lyric  and  dramatic  literature,  tragedy  and  com 
edy  ;  remember  her  admirable  principles  of  justice,  which, 
with  all  the  errors  of  application  in  particular  cases,  are  the 
basis  of  its  administration  everywhere ;  consider  her  philos- 
ophv  in  the  persons  of  Socrates,  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  their 
teachings  in  the  Academy  and  the  Lyceum ;  recall  the  almost 
Christian  ethics  which  strengthened  the  heart  of  Socrates  to 
brave  the  passions  of  an  angry  populace,  demanding  with 
threats  and  imprecations  that  he  should  put  a  vote  which  was 
to  consign  men  illegally  to  tne  executioner  ;  contemplate  the 


308  THE  LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

religious  faith  which  enabled  him,  heathen  though  he  was,  to 
Lok  death  calmly  in  the  face,  and  to  spend  the  last  hours  of 
his  life  in  discussing  the  highest  themes  with  his  weeping  dis- 
ciples ;  then  pass  in  review  the  doctrines  of  his  most  eloquent 
followers  on  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  nature  of  sin,  the 
necessity  of  retribution,  the  essence  of  justice,  the  misery  of 
wickedness  even  when  triumphant ;  recollect,  too,  the  lofty  civil 
prudence,  which  for  a  large  portion  of  her  existence  swayed  the 
counsels  of  the  Athenian  state,  and  the  masculine  eloquence 
which  has  come  down  to  us  in  the  volumes  of  the  Attic  ora- 
tors, with  its  stirring  appeals  to  all  that  is  noblest  in  the  hu- 
man heart,  its  passages  of  profound  wisdom,  irrefragable  logic, 
resistless  passion,  and  unequalled  majesty  of  expression ;  es- 
pecially bring  before  your  thought  the  image  of  him  who  was 
greatest  among  the  greatest,  who  gave  his  days  and  nights 
to  the  service  of  a  country  whose  honor,  glory,  and  prosper- 
ity were  dearer  to  him  than  life  itself,  who  dispensed  his  pri- 
vate fortune  in  ministering  to  the  wants  of  others,  redeeming 
the  captive,  endowing  the  daughters  of  the  poor,  supplying 
the  exigencies  of  the  state  when  disastrous  defeat  veiled  her 
pride  and  trailed  her  honors  in  the  dust,  submitting  to  exile 
when  the  madness  of  the  populace  turned  upon  his  incorrup- 
tible integrity  the  eye  of  suspicion,  yet,  while  banished  from 
the  city  of  his  love,  lending  the  might  of  his  eloquence  to 
bring  back  success  to  her  arms  and  to  restore  her  to  the  post 
of  honor  in  Greece,  finally  dying  in  the  temple  of  Poseidon, 
when  the  glory  of  Athens  had  grown  hopelessly  dim  beneath 
the  malignant  star  of  Macedon,  —  summon  up  these  and  a 
thousand  immortal  memories,  and  the  grandeur  of  the  position 
asserted  for  Athens  by  the  illustrious  ruler  commends  itself 
to  the  coolest  judgment  of  history  and  posterity. 

How  singular  the  contrasts  between  these  aspects  of  Gre- 
cian life  in  the  historical  ages !  Grim  Sparta  fought  her  way 
bravely,  and  fills  many  a  chapter  in  the  warlike  annals  of 
antiquity ;  but  her  life  perished  with  her  life.  Athens  fought 
her  way  when  fighting  was  called  for,  and  sometimes  when 


OUTLINE  VIEW   OF   HELLENIC   CULTURE.  309 

it  was  not ;  but  the  life  of  her  spirit  lives  on  wherever  intel- 
lectual culture  has  existed  or  now  exists ;  it  spreads  with  the 
extension  of  the  realm  of  letters  and  art ;  it  legislates  over  the 
kingdom  of  beauty ;  it  increases  in  power  and  intensity  with 
every  advancing  century ;  it  can  fall  only  with  the  downfall 
of  civilization,  and  the  usurped  dominion  of  barbarism  over 
the  face  of  the  earth 


LECTURE  IIJ 

THE  DECLINE  OF  HELLAS.  —  RURAL  LIFE  IN  GREECE. 

The  life  of  Greece,  commencing  in  the  mythical  ages,  was 
not  only  varied  and  intense,  but,  if  we  add  to  the  thousand 
years  of  its  glory  the  two  thousand  years  of  its  transformed 
existence  through  the  Alexandrian,  Byzantine,  and  Middle 
ages,  to  the  present  time,  of  extraordinary  duration.  The 
Ionian  or  Homeric  period,  commencing  ten  or  twelve  centu- 
ries before  our  era,  lasts  three  hundred  years ;  the  historical 
period,  commencing  seven  or  eight  centuries  before  Christ, 
lasts  until  the  Roman  conquest.  The  hegemony,  or  leadership, 
is  divided  between  Athens  and  Sparta,  with  an  occasional  short- 
lived interlude  played  by  some  inferior  state,  as  by  Thebes 
under  the  able  management  of  Pelopidas  and  Epaminondas. 
Life  —  the  life  of  civilization — is  concentrated  in  Southern 
Greece,  shading  off  gradually  into  the  semibarbarism  of  Thes- 
saly  and  Macedonia,  and  the  complete  barbarism  of  Illyria. 
The  battle  of  Chseroneia,  in  338  B.  C,  establishes  the  suprem- 
acy of  the  Macedonian  princes.  The  Achaean  League,  two 
centuries  before  Christ,  rises  to  a  temporary  importance,  under 
Philopoemen ;  but  in  146  B.  C,  all  Greece,  under  the  name 
of  Achaia,  becomes  a  part  of  the  Roman  empire,  and  is  heard 
of  no  more  except  as  a  portion  of  a  province  governed  by  a 
Roman  proconsul.  She  retains,  however,  something  of  her 
internal  freedom.  Municipal  institutions  are  not  much  changed 
\n  form,  the  constitution  of  Lycurgus  having  been  previously 
annihilated  by  Philopoemen  and  the  Achaean  League,  B.  C. 
188.  Meanwhile,  though  politically  dead,  Greece  is  still  the 
school  of  the  world,  and  Athens  is  the  school  of  Greece.     For 


THE  DECLINE  OF  HELLAS.  311 

several  centuries  the  Roman  youth  resort  thither,  as  to  a  great 
university,  to  be  trained  in  the  liberal  arts ;  the  son  of  Cicero 
studies  there  ;  Cicero  himself  has  studied  there.  In  the  third 
century  the  Goths  commence  their  ravages;  in  the  fourth 
century  Alaric  renews  the  assault  with  more  destructive  rage  ; 
next  come  the  Huns,  before  the  fourth  century  is  completed. 
In  the  sixth  century  Justinian  closes  the  schools  of  Athens, 
which  have  existed  from  the  time  of  Socrates. 

In  the  midst  of  these  successive  disasters,  the  population  of 
Greece  has  rapidly  dwindled  away.  Political  oppression  and 
social  demoralization  have  had  their  deadly  effects.  The 
small  proprietors  who  occupied  the  land  in  the  flourishing  ages 
have  vanished  from  the  soil,  and  lords  of  immense  landed  es- 
tates—  sure  sign  of  decay  —  have  spread  over  the  country 
The  central  power  at  Byzantium  ceases  to  protect  a  region 
from  which  only  a  scanty  revenue  can  be  drawn,  and  little  or 
no  resistance  is  now  offered  to  the  barbarous  hordes  from  the 
North.  The  Slavonian  successors  ef  the  Goths  and  Huns 
pour  through  the  pass  of  Thermopylae,  and  find  no  Leonidas 
there  to  dispute  their  entrance.  The  marble  lion,  placed  over 
the  mound  that  covers  the  Three  Hundred,  has  no  terrors  for 
these  Russian  multitudes ;  and  on  they  press  until  they  hold 
the  fairest  parts  of  Greece  in  possession  or  subjection,  down  tc 
the  southern  extremity  of  Peloponnesus.  Greece  seems  re- 
moved from  Greece.  So  far  is  the  process  of  supplanting  car- 
ried, that  some  have  doubted  whether  any  portion  of  the  old 
Hellenic  race  remains  in  the  land  of  their  fathers.  In  the 
eighth  century  Constantinus  Porphyrogenitus  writes :  "  The 
whole  country  became  Slavonian  and  barbarous."  But  to- 
wards the  end  of  this  century  the  deluge  of  barbarism  begins 
to  recede  before  the  arms  of  the  Empress  Irene,  who  is  an 
Athenian  by  birth.  A  new  impulse  is  given  to  the  native 
society,  which  rallies  against  the  foreigner  and  the  barbarian. 
Yet  for  six  or  seven  centuries  the  Slavonic  tongue  is  spoken, 
conjointly  with  the  Greek,  all  over  Greece  ;  and  to  this  day  the 
names  of  rivers,  mountains,  and  towns,  from  Thermopylae  to  the 


312  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

southern  point  of  Peloponnesus,  bear  witness  to  the  extent  of 
the  inroads  of  the  Slavonians,  and  the  length  of  their  period  of 
possession.  But  in  the  interior  regions,  among  the  highlands, 
in  many  of  the  cities,  in  Athens  for  example,  and  in  most  of  the 
islands,  the  Hellenic  people  and  language,  through  all  these 
changes,  keep  their  ground,  and  the  race  perishes  not  in  the 
Slavonian  flood. 

The  language  is  preserved  in  its  general  structure  especially 
through  the  influence  of  the  Greek  Church,  although,  after  the 
downfall  of  Athens  and  Alexandria,  Byzantium  is  the  principal 
seat  of  ecclesiastical  power  and  literary  culture.  The  East  and 
the  West  are  divided  in  religion  and  in  politics.  Not  only  are  the 
nations  of  Roman  descent,  under  the  general  name  of  Franks, 
regarded  as  heretics  by  the  orthodox  Emperors  at  Constanti- 
nople, but  the  wars  with  the  Normans  of  Sicily  and  Italy 
have  induced  a  general  hostility  between  the  Frank  and  the 
Greek  races ;  so  that  when  the  Crusaders  pass  on  their  war- 
fare against  the  infidels  who  hold  possession  of  the  Holy  Sep- 
ulchre, they  are  regarded  by  the  Greek  Christians  rather  as 
old  enemies  than  as  brethren  of  one  common  faith.  The  mis- 
chief done  to  the  Eastern  Christians  by  these  pious  marauders 
from  the  West  is  incalculable.  The  Orientals,  before  their 
appearance,  had  laid  the  foundation  of  a  new  order  of  things 
in  the  cultivation  of  the  soil  by  freemen.  The  Crusaders  in- 
troduced feudal  tenures  and  predial  servitude. 

The  Byzantine  empire  was  conquered  in  the  beginning  of 
the  thirteenth  century,  and  the  empire  of  Romania  took  its 
place.  On  the  continent  of  Greece  and  the  neighboring  islands 
kingdoms  and  principalities  were  established  under  Frankish 
rulers,  some  of  which  endured  from  the  thirteenth  to  late  in 
the  sixteenth  century.  There  was  the  despotat  of  Epirus ; 
the  so-called  empire  of  Thessalonica ;  the  principality  of 
Achaia,  in  the  Peloponnesus ;  the  dukedom  of  the  Archipel- 
ago, or  Naxos,  —  the  longest-lived  of  all  the  Frankish  estab- 
lishments in  the  East.  But  the  dukedom  of  Athens  has  the 
greatest  interest  in  its  relations  to  the  condition  of  Greece. 


THE  DECLINE   OF  HELLAS.  313 

At  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century  Athens  and  Thebes 
were  wealthy  and  populous  cities  for  the  times.  Leo  Sguros, 
u  Peloponnesian  noble,  hearing  of  the  arrival  of  the  Crusaders 
at  Constantinople,  formed  the  design  of  establishing  for  him- 
self an  independent  principality,  by  taking  advantage  of  the 
confusion  of  the  times,  and  throwing  off  the  imperial  author- 
ity. He  first  led  his  army  over  the  Eleusinian  plain  by  the 
Sacred  Way,  and  laid  siege  to  Athens ;  but  the  people,  having 
removed  their  property  to  the  Acropolis,  made  vigorous  prep- 
arations for  defence.  Sguros,  finding  that  the  reduction  of 
the  city  was  likely  to  give  him  trouble  and  to  cause  a  long 
delay,  endeavored  to  set  it  on  fire,  laid  waste  the  surrounding 
country,  collected  vast  stores  of  plunder,  and  then  marched 
upon  Thebes.  Eastern  Greece,  as  far  as  Thessaly,  submitted 
to  his  authority,  and  he  prepared  to  meet  an  army  of  Cru- 
saders which  was  advancing  from  the  North.  They  met  at 
Thermopylae;  the  Franks  were  victorious;  and  Sguros  and  his 
remaining  Peloponnesians,  as  unlike  Leonidas  and  his  Spar- 
tans as  possible,  fled  to  Corinth  and  shut  themselves  up  in  the 
fortress  on  the  Acrocorinthus.  Thebes  and  Athens  readily 
opened  their  gates,  and  submitted,  on  favorable  terms,  to  the 
invaders ;  and  Otho  de  la  Roche  became  master  of  Attica  and 
Bceotia. 

Five  princes  of  this  family  ruled  at  Athens  from  1205  to 
1308.  During  this  period  Athens  was  one  of  the  most  popu- 
lous, wealthy,  and  civilized  capitals  of  Europe.  The  country 
around  it  was  covered  with  flourishing  villages,  well  watered 
by  aqueducts  and  cisterns.  Vineyards,  orchards,  olive-groves, 
almond  and  fig  trees,  furnished  the  materials  o^  an  extensive 
commerce ;  cotton,  silk,  and  leather  were  oianufactured  at 
home,  and  sold  at  high  prices  in  the  markets  of  Western  Eu- 
rope ;  and  the  splendor  and  luxury  of  the  Dukes  of  Athens 
were  celebrated  everywhere.  Muntaner,  the  true  and  loyal 
Spanish  chronicler,  who  had  been  made  familiar,  in  a  long  and 
adventurous  life,  with  all  the  countries  around  the  eastern  end 
of  the  Mediterranean,  says :  "  The  chivalry  there  was  the  best 


314  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

In  the  world,  and  they  spoke  French  as  well  as  at  Paris." 
'*  The  Duke  of  Athens  was  one  of  the  noblest  men  in  the 
empire  of  Romania,  and  next  to  the  king  the  richest."  The 
aid  chronicler,  apropos  to  this  text,  describes  a  ceremony 
which  took  place  at  Athens,  accompanied  with  an  extraordi- 
nary display  of  wealth  and  splendor;  on  which  occasion  the 
Duke  presented  to  Boniface,  a  nobleman  from  Verona,  a 
knightly  "estate,  and  the  daughter  of  a  Baron  of  the  Duchy, 
who  was  heiress  of  one  third  of  the  city  and  island  of  Negro- 
pont.  "What  think  you?"  he  asks.  "The  festival  began 
in  full  splendor.  When  they  were  assembled  in  the  princi- 
pal church,"  (probably  the  Parthenon,  which  had  been  con- 
verted into  a  church  of  the  Panhagia,  or  Blessed  Virgin,) 
"  where  the  Duke  was  to  receive  the  accolade,  the  Archbishop 
of  Athens  said  mass,  and  laid  down  the  arms  of  the  Duke 
on  the  altar."  His  description  of  the  ceremony,  which  is 
extremely  interesting,  shows  how  completely  the  principles 
of  Western  chivalry  were  established  in  this  gay  and  gallant 
court.  It  does  not  appear  that  the  governing  orders  blended 
with  the  native  population  by  marriage.  The  same  authority 
says:  "The  Duke  distributed  castles,  houses,  lands,  among 
his  knights,  and  so  a  thousand  Frankish  knights  were  settled 
there,  and  sent  for  their  wives  and  children  from  France. 
Their  successors  took  wives  from  the  noblest  houses  in  France, 
and  they  remained  unmixed  noble  families." 

The  house  of  De  la  Roche  was  succeeded  by  the  Duke  of 
Brienne,  the  Grand  Catalan  Company,  the  Sicilian  branch 
of  the  house  of  Aragon,  and  the  house  of  Acciauoli  in  Flor- 
ence, thirteen  princes  reigning  in  Athens  until  1456.  It  is 
not  within  my  plan  to  enter  into  the  military  events  that  be- 
long to  this  period.  The  chronicle  of  Muntaner  relates  many 
of  them  with  graphic  simplicity,  and  we  have  still  more  in  the 
versified  Greek  chronicle  of  the  wars  of  the  Morea,  publishea 
by  Buchon,  —  a  record  of  the  greatest  interest  and  importance, 
both  with  respect  to  the  history  and  the  language  of  that  age 
But  these  two  centuries  form  a  singular  episode  in  the  life  of 


THE  DECLINE  OF  HELLAS.  315 

Grreece,  —  the  feudal  system,  the  institutions  of  chivalry,  the 
anguage  of  France,  established  on  the  classical  soil  of  the 
ancient  republic,  and  dukes  and  knights  assisting  at  high  mass 
in  the  Parthenon,  and  holding  revels  in  the  Propylaea  of  the 
Acropolis,  converted  into  a  baronial  residence,  the  keep  oi 
which  still  remains,  —  mighty  princes,  whose  splendid  pageants 
were  famous  all  over  Europe  in  the  days  of  Dante,  Boccaccio, 
and  Chaucer.  Another  curious  episode  in  Hellenic  life  is  the 
history  of  the  empire  of  Trebizond,  the  ancient  Trapezous, 
on  the  southern  shore  of  the  Black  Sea.  Of  this  Gibbon 
knew  but  little.  Professor  Fallmereyer  published,  in  1827, 
a  history  founded  upon  a  Greek  chronicle  of  Panaretos,  dis- 
covered by  him  at  Venice.  Down  to  that  time  little  or  noth- 
ing was  known  of  this  remarkable  offshoot  from  the  Byzantine 
empire,  which  endured  from  the  thirteenth  to  the  middle  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  notwithstanding  its  exposed  position 
and  the  assaults  of  the  sultans.  It  is  interesting  and  impor- 
tant as  a  part  of  mediaeval  history,  but  we  cannot  dwell  upon 
it  here.  The  details  are  very  ably  given  in  Mr.  Finlay's  last 
historical  work,  under  the  title  of  "  Mediaeval  Greece  and  Tre- 
bizond." 

The  capture  of  Constantinople  by  Mahomet  II.,  in  1453, 
was  the  prelude  to  the  reduction  of  Greece  under  the  power 
of  the  Turks.  Francis,  the  last  Duke  of  Athens,  surrendered 
the  city  to  Omar,  the  son  of  Turakhan,  in  1456,  three  years 
after  the  fall  of  Constantinople.  The  wealth  of  Attica,  so 
remarkable  at  the  beginning  of  this  period,  had  perished  under 
the  successive  hordes  of  invaders,  and  city  and  country  had 
fallen  into  the  deepest  poverty;  "but  still,"  says  Emerson 
Tennent,  the  historian,  "  the  haughty  spirit  inherent  to  the 
blood,  which  crept,  however  sluggishly,  in  their  veins,  forbade 
them  totally  to  relinquish  the  habits  of  their  fathers  for  the 
customs  of  the  barbarous  stranger,  and  they  still  retained  a 
sufficiency  of  their  former  characteristics  to  tell  the  world  that 
they  were  Greeks." 

Greek  life  slumbered  under  the   Turkish  despotism  until, 


316  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

in  our  day,  the  ancient  spirit  of  the  people  roused  itself,  and 
Bhook  off  the  ignominious  yoke.  A  writer  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  Nicolas  Gerbel,  in  alluding  to  the  condition  of  Ath- 
ens, exclaims :  "  O  unhappy  revolutions  in  human  affairs  !  O 
tragic  change  of  human  power !  A  city  once  so  mighty  in 
walls,  shipyards,  buildings,  arms,  wealth,  men,  so  flourishing 
in  prudence  and  all  wisdom,  now  reduced  to  a  small  town,  or 
rather  hamlet ;  once  free,  living  under  its  own  laws,  now 
under  the  yoke  of  slavery  to  the  crudest  brutes.  Go  to 
Athens,  and,  instead  of  the  most  magnificent  works,  behold 
piles  of  rubbish  and  lamentable  ruins.  Rely  not  too  much  on 
thy  strength,  but  put  thy  trust  in  Him  who  saith,  'I  am  the 
Lord  thy  God.'  "  Another  writer,  Pinet,  soon  afterward  says  : 
"  Of  Athens,  once  so  renowned,  not  only  the  chief  of  Greece, 
but  of  many  other  nations,  there  now  remains  —  good  God !  — 
only  a  small  castle,  and  a  hamlet,  undefended  from  the  foxes, 
wolves,  and  other  wild  beasts."  And  Laurenburg  finishes 
the  sad  picture  in  these  words :  "  Greece  once  was ;  Athens 
once  was ;  now  neither  in  Greece  is  Athens,  nor  in  Greece  is 
Greece." 

The  few  intimations  gathered  from  native  writers  agree  in 
representing  the  condition  of  the  country  and  its  inhabitants 
as  deplorable ;  while  all  assert  that  the  old  Hellenic  spirit  still 
survives.  In  a  letter  of  Zygomala  to  Martin  Kraus,  written 
in  1575,  that  writer  says:  "The  cause  of  their  ignorance  is 
the  poverty  produced  by  the  oppression  of  the  tyrants ;  but  the 
inhabitants  of  this  country  are  of  the  quickest  apprehension, 
when  they  have  an  opportunity  of  acquiring  learning  from  a 
master."  There  was  but  one  school  in  which  ancient  Greek 
was  taught,  and  that  was  at  Napoli  di  Romania.  Cabasilas 
writes  that  the  dialects  in  Greece  were  numerous,  being  more 
than  seventy,  that  of  Athens  being  the  worst.  "Athens,"  he 
continues,  "  still  contains  many  of  its  splendid  monuments, 
Buch  as  the  Areopagus,  the  old  Academies,  the  Lyceum  of 
Aristotle,  the  grand  Pantheon  [Parthenon],  which  is,  of  al] 
existing  edifices,  the  most  excellent,  being  covered  external!} 


THE  DECLINE   OF  HELLAS.  317 

with  the  sculptured  history  of  the  former  Greeks  ;  and  amongst 
others  we  can  there  behold,  above  the  grand  entrance,  two 
horses  said  to  have  been  the  work  of  Praxiteles,  which  so 
closely  resemble  nature  that  they  seem  snorting  for  human 
flesh.  But  why  do  I  dwell  upon  Athens?  It  remains  to- 
day nothing  more  than  the  skin  of  an  animal  long  since  dead." 
The  population  of  Athens,  reduced  to  a  small  remnant  of  the 
descendants  of  her  former  inhabitants,  mingled  with  Jews  and 
Turks,  and  all  together  less  than  twelve  thousand,  supported 
a  miserable  existence  by  fishing  in  the  Gulf  of  Salamis,  or  by 
cultivating  a  few  olive-groves  on  the  banks  of  the  Ilissus. 
The  condition  of  Greece  attracted  the  attention  of  De  Cour- 
menin  early  in  the  seventeenth  century ;  of  the  Jesuits  and 
Capuchins,  who,  a  little  later,  established  missions  in  Athens ; 
and  of  several  French  and  English  travellers,  of  whom  the 
most  entertaining  are  old  Sandys,  Spon,  and  Wheeler.  San- 
dys remarks  that  the  spoken  Greek  differs  not  so  much  from 
the  ancient  as  the  Italian  from  the  Latin.  "And  there  be 
yet  of  the  Laconjans,"  lie  writes,  "that  speeke  so  good  Greeke 
(though  not  grammatically)  that  they  understand  the  learned, 
and  understand  not  the  vulgar.  Their  liturgy  is  read  in  the 
ancient  Greeke,  with  not-  much  more  profit  perhaps  to  the 
rude  people  than  the  Latin  service  of  the  Romish  Church  to 
the  illiterate  Papists."  In  the  middle  of  the  last  century  the 
great  work  of  Stuart  and  Revett  made  the  condition  of  Greece 
and  the  antiquities  of  Athens  the  common  property  of  the 
civilized  world ;  and  from  that  time  to  the  present,  the  series 
of  works  published  by  tourists  and  scholars  is  innumerable. 
When  Wheeler  returned  to  England  in  1676,  the  event  was 
considered  a  special  providence,  and  he  closes  his  narrative 
with  an  appropriate  psalm.  Now  the  tour  of  Greece  is  only  a 
racation  ramble. 

The  apparent  resurrection  of  Hellas  is  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  phenomena  of  our  day.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  old  Hellenic  blood  still  flows  in  Hellenic  veins.  The 
Greek  language  is  still  heard  en  the  scene  of  its  former  tri 


318  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

umphs, — in  broken  tones,  it  is  true,  —  its  ancient  musica. 
character  and  the  rhythms  of  the  poets  lost  forever,  modern  in 
its  construction  and  versification,  but  retaining  a  large  propor- 
tion of  the  words  employed  in  the  age  of  Demosthenes,  with 
the  same  accents  and  many  of  the  same  grammatical  forms. 
A  Greek  newspaper  published  now  may  be  easily  read  by  one 
who  understands  the  language  of  Thucydides  and  Xenophon. 
Mr.  Blackie,  Professor  of  Greek  in  the  University  of  Edin- 
burgh, insists  that  it  is  not  a  dead  but  a  living  language,  and 
teaches  his  students  to  pronounce  it  as  they  do  in  Greece. 
He  says :  "  The  language  of  Homer  is  not  dead,  but  lives, 
and  that  in  a  state  of  purity  to  which,  considering  the  extraor- 
dinary duration  of  its  literary  existence, — twenty-five  hundred 
years  at  least,  —  there  is  no  parallel,  perhaps,  on  the  face  of  the 
globe,  certainly  not  in  Europe."  Quoting  an  article  giving 
an  account  of  Kossuth's  visit  to  America,  he  says:  ''In  three 
columns  of  a  Greek  newspaper  of  the  year  1852  there  do  not 
certainly  occur  three  words  that  are  not  native  Greek."  In 
this  country  the  same  opinion  was  ably  maintained  more  than 
a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  by  Mr.  Pickering,  who  in  his 
private  reading  adopted  the  modern  Greek  pronunciation.  I 
think  that  Mr.  Pickering  had  strong  arguments  in  his  favor, 
and  I  join  in  the  commendations  which  some  of  the  English 
journalists  bestow  on  Mr.  Blackie  for  rejecting  the  established 
system,  which  has  little  or  nothing  but  the  inveterate  preju- 
dices of  English  and  American  colleges  to  uphold  it. 

Whether  there  is  to  be  a  new  lease  of  national  life  to 
Greece,  under  the  guaranty  of  the  great  powers  of  Europe, 
remains  to  be  determined.  It  is  very  certain  that  Hellas 
still  suffers  from  the  exhaustion  of  many  oppressive  ages. 
To  restore  the  Hellas  of  antiquity,  the  physical  properties 
of  the  country  must  be  restored.  The  mountains,  now  bare 
*nd  rocky,  must  be  clothed  again  with  forests ;  and  the 
streams  and  rivers  must  be  replenished  with  copious  and 
sparkling  waters.  Can  these  things  be  in  the  present  state 
of  the    world  ?     Can   Athens  regain  her  ancient  precedence 


BUBAL  LIFE   OF   GBEECE.  319 

tn  arts  and  civilization  while  London  and  Paris  exist?  Can 
the  Bema  resound  with  the  eloquence  that  once  fulinined 
over  Greece,  so  long  as  her  nearest  neighbors,  who  control 
her  policy,  are  despots  who  abhor  the  voice  of  freedom? 
The  thrilling  associations  of  the  past  will  forever  fix  upon 
her  the  regards  of  the  world ;  but  the  tide  of  power  and 
prosperity  has  worn  for  itself  other  channels,  where,  in  the 
times  of  her  ancient  splendor,  hung  the  night  of  barbarism 
and  the  silence  of  intellectual  darkness.  The  teaching  of 
history  is  summed  up  in  the  poet's  majestic  line :  — 

"  Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way." 

Having  made  this  rapid  survey  of  the  life  of  Greece  down 
to  the  present  time,  let  us  now  return  to  what  is  commonly 
understood  by  the  national  existence  of  that  country.  The 
idea  of  Greece  usually  entertained  is  that  of  a  country  of 
heroes,  poets,  artists,  and  philosophers ;  and  in  truth,  the 
great  significance  of  Hellas  in  the  history  of  man  is  em- 
bodied in  the  individuals  belonging  to  these  illustrious  classes 
of  her  sons.  Yet  the  common  life  of  man  was  lived  there  as 
well  as  by  us.  Through  the  openings  of  the  splendid  cur- 
tain which  presents  itself  to  our  vision  as  the  true  picture  of 
Hellas,  we  catch  glimpses  of  familiar  scenes,  —  of  the  toil  for 
daily  bread,  of  the  vulgar  wants  of  humanity.  The  life  of 
Greece  was  not  all  heroism,  romance,  poetry,  and  art.  It 
rested,  as  life  everywhere  rests,  on  the  bosom  of  the  common 
Mother  Earth.  If  the  Greeks  were  pre-eminently  a  nation 
of  poets  and  artists,  they  were  no  less  pre-eminently  a  nation 
of  farmers.  They  understood  the  theory  and  the  practice  of 
agriculture,  though  some  of  the  sciences  now  deemed  impor- 
tant to  the  best  cultivation  of  the  earth  were  wholly  unknown 
to  them. 

In  Homer  we  find  lovely  sketches  of  the  primitive  country 
life  and  the  rural  tastes  and  habits  of  the  most  eminent  per- 
sonages. Hesiod's  Works  and  Days  is  chiefly  devoted  to  the 
rustic  lore  which  experience  had  taught  to  the  cultivators  of 


B20  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

the  earth  in  his  age,  both  with  respect  to  the  virtues  of  industry 
temperance,  and  thrift,  and  to  the  practical  methods  of  hus- 
bandry. The  precepts  seem  to  have  been  drawn  in  a  great 
measure  from  the  poet's  own  experience.  *  He  was  a  Boeotian 
farmer,  and,  like  the  farmers  of  New  England,  had  a  great 
amount  of  proverbial  philosophy  at  his  tongue's  end.  The  early 
Greek  agriculturists  carefully  observed  the  phenomena  of  the 
heavens,  and  knew  all  about  the  weather.  The  habits  of  ani- 
mals ;  the  flight  of  birds,  according  to  the  season ;  a  knowledge 
of  the  properties  of  different  soils,  and  their  adaptation  to  differ- 
ent kinds  of  crops ;  the  method  of  discovering  springs,  —  were 
among  the  subjects  of  their  practical  observation  and  study  j 
and  their  skill  in  them  would  surprise  those  who  think  that 
sense  and  observation  are  of  modern  growth.  Wagons,  carts, 
ploughs,  and  harrows  were  generally  manufactured  on  the  farm, 
if  it  was  a  large  one,  or  in  its  neighborhood,  by  smiths  and  car- 
penters ;  and  the  kinds  of  wood  chosen  for  these  purposes  were 
determined  with  much  care.  Corn  was  ground,  first,  in  a  large 
mortar,  with  a  pestle.  The  list  of  other  implements  —  scythes, 
pruning-hooks,  saws,  spades,  shovels,  rakes,  pickaxes,  hoes,  and 
the  like  — could  hardly  be  extended  now.  The  methods  of  en- 
riching the  soil  were  carefully  studied ;  the  utility  of  guano  and 
Bea-weed,  as  well  as  of  the  common  manures,  was  perfectly 
understood  and  largely  verified  in  practice.  Land  was  allowed 
to  recover  its  strength  by  lying  fallow,  as  Xenophon  teaches  in 
his  CEconomicus.  To  protect  the  grain  from  birds,  scarecrows 
were  set  up  in  the  fields ;  and  to  make  all  sure,  they  were  ac- 
customed to  try  a  curious  spell.  Having  caught  a  toad,  they 
carried  him  around  the  field  by  night  alive,  and  then  put  him 
into  a  jar,  sealed  him  up,  and  buried  him  in  the  middle  of  the 
ground.  After  these  precautions  it  was  supposed  that  the  grow- 
ing blade  was  safe  from  enemies.  Hay  was  an  article  whose 
value  waj  well  understood.  The  time  for  mowing  was  carefully 
determined ;  and  the  hay-ricks  were  made  with  due  precautions 
against  dampness  on  one  hand,  and  spontaneous  combustion  on 
he  other.     When  the  time  of  harvest  came,  the  laborers  at 


RUBAL  LIFE   OF   GREECE.  321 

A-thens  ranged  themselves  round  the  agora,  and  waited  to  be 
employed  by  the  farmers.  Homer  has  an  animated  passage 
in  which  he  compares  the  rushing  together  of  two  hostile  armies 
to  rival  parties  of  harvesters  starting  from  opposite  sides  of  the 

field :  — 

"  As  reapers  each  to  the  other  opposite 
With  haste  rush  forward,  mowing  quickly 
Stalks  of  wheat  or  barley  in  some  rich  man's  field, 
While  dense  before  them  fall  the  sheafy  heaps ; 
So  rushing  terribly,  with  mutual  rage, 
Trojans  and  Greeks  the  slaughter  waged." 

In  another  place,  the  same  incomparable  poet  presents  to  us 
a  delightful  harvest-scene  :  — 

"  There,  in  a  field,  'mid  lofty  corn,  the  lusty  reapers  stand, 
Plying  their  task  right  joyously,  with  sickle  each  in  hand. 
Some  strew  in  lines,  as  on  they  press,  the  handfuls  thick  behind, 
While  at  their  heels  the  heavy  sheaves  their  merry  comrades  bind. 
There  to  the  mows  a  troop  of  boys  next  bear  in  haste  away, 
And  pile  upon  the  golden  glebe  the  triumphs  of  the  day. 
Among  them,  wrapped  in  silent  joy,  their  sceptred  king  appears, 
Beholding  in  the  swelling  heaps  the  stores  of  future  years. 
A  mighty  ox  beneath  an  oak  the  busy  heralds  slay, 
With  grateful  sacrifice  to  close  the  labors  of  the  day ; 
While  near,  the  husbandman's  repast  the  rustic  maids  prepare, 
Sprinkling  with  flour  the  broiling  cates  whose  savor  fills  the  air." 

The  grain  was  trodden  out  from  the  straw  by  horses,  oxen,  or 
mules,  on  a  circular  threshing-floor,  usually  placed  on  an  emi- 
nence in  the  open  field.  A  pole  was  set  up  in  the  centre  of 
the  floor,  and  the  cattle  were  fastened  to  it  by  a  rope  reaching 
to  the  circumference.  As  they  moved  round  it,  the  rope 
coiled  itself  about  the  pole,  until  they  were  brought  up  at  the 
centre;  then  their  heads  were  turned  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion, until  the  cord  was  unwound.  Sometimes  a  rude  thresh- 
ing-machine, toothed  with  stones  or  iron,  or  a  flail,  was  em- 
ployed. As  early  as  the  time  of  Homer  winnowing-machines 
were  used.     The  whole  process  is  described  by  him,  in  one  of 

those   similes   which  are   finished  off  like   elaborate   pictures. 

The  granaries  were  prepared  with  the  utmost  care ;  and  when 

VOL.    I.  21 


822  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

the  fruits  of  the  season  were  housed,  the  event  was  celebrated 
by  a  festival  in  honor  of  Demeter  and  Dionysos,  of  which  the 
distinguishing  feature  was  that  no  bloody  sacrifices  were  offered, 
but  only  cakes  and  fruit,  —  fine  loaves  made  of  the  new  corn 
being  among  the  offerings  at  the  festival  of  the  Thalysia. 

The  culture  of  the  vine,  it  is  perhaps  needless  to  say,  was  a 
subject  of  great  interest  and  importance  among  the  Greeks. 
The  selection  of  the  spot  for  a  vineyard,  whether  on  a  sloping 
hillside  or  on  a  plain,  the  direction  of  the  exposure,  and  the 
effects  of  climate  and  of  particular  winds,  were  sedulously  con- 
sidered. The  hedging  in  of  the  ground,  the  rooting  up  of  what- 
ever might  be  harmful  to  the  vine,  the  trenching  of  the  soil,  the 
setting  out  of  the  slips,  the  treatment  of  the  growing  vine,  are 
all  discussed  very  minutely  by  the  ancient  writers  who  preceded 
Virgil.  The  appearance  of  a  vineyard  composed  wholly  of 
tree-climbing  vines,  one  of  the  three  varieties  created  in  Greece 
by  different  modes  of  cultivation,  is  thus  described  by  Mr.  St. 
John :  "  A  vineyard,  consisting  wholly  of  anadendroids,  most 
common  in  Attica,  presents  in  spring  and  summer  a  very  pic- 
turesque appearance,  especially  when  situated  on  the  sharp  de- 
clivity of  a  hill.  The  trees  designed  for  the  support  of  the 
vines,  planted  in  straight  lines,  and  rising  behind  each  other, 
terrace  above  terrace,  at  intervals  of  three  or  four  and  twenty 
feet,  were  beautiful  in  form  and  varied  in  feature,  consisting 
generally  of  the  black  poplar,  the  oak,  the  maple,  the  elm,  and 
probably  also  the  platane,  which  is  still  employed  for  this  pur- 
pose in  Crete.  Though  kept  low  in  some  situations,  where  the 
^oil  was  scanty,  they  were  in  others  allowed  to  run  thirty  or 
forty,  and  sometimes  even  sixty,  feet  in  height.  The  face  of 
the  tree  along  which  the  vine  climbed  was  cut  down  sheer 
like  a  wall,  against  which  the  purple  or  golden  clusters  hung 
thickly  suspended,  while  the  young  branches  crept  along  the 
joughs  or  over  bridges  of  reeds,  uniting  tree  with  tree,  and. 
when  touched  with  the  rich  tints  of  autumn,  delighting  the 
eye  by  an  extraordinary  variety  of  foliage.  As  the  lower 
boughs  of  these   noble  trees  were  carefully  lopped  away,  a 


RURAL  LIFE   OF   3REECE.  323 

series  of  lofty  arches  was  created,  beneath  which  the  breezes 
could  freely  play  ;  abundant  currents  of  pure  air  being  regarded 
as  no  less  essential  to  the  perfect  maturing  of  the  grape  than 
constant  sunshine." 

The  vintage  was  a  season  of  great  rejoicing,  as  it  is  every- 
where. In  Greece  it  was  particularly  memorable  on  account 
of  its  connection  with  the  origin  of  tragedy  and  comedy.  A 
considerable  portion  of  the  grapes  was  reserved  and  kept  fresh, 
or  converted  into  raisins  for  the  use  of  the  table. 

It  would  be  endless  to  describe  the  variety  of  fruits,  and 
the  methods  of  raising  and  preserving  them  practised  by  the 
Greeks.  The  olive  was  perhaps  the  most  extensively  used,  as 
the  oil  was  not  only  employed  for  lights,  but  was  the  basis  of 
cookery.  Figs,  citrons,  pomegranates,  apples,  quinces,  and 
pears  were  among  the  principal ;  and  from  apples  and  pears 
large  quantities  of  cider  and  perry  were  manufactured. 

The  farm-yard  had  a  multitude  of  noisy  tenants.  Geese  and 
ducks  often  waddled  into  the  kitchen,  in  one  corner  of  which 
might  be  heard  the  comforting  sounds  of  the  occupant  of  the 
pig-sty.  The  art  of  enlarging  the  goose's  liver  to  please  the  fas- 
tidious appetite  of  the  gourmand,  by  cooping  him  up  in  a  heated 
room  and  stuffing  him  with  fattening  food  and  drink,  was  not 
left  for  German  gastronomers  to  invent,  but  was  well  known 
to  the  Greeks,  and  to  the  Egyptians  before  them.  Henneries, 
furnished  with  roosts,  were  attached  to  the  kitchen,  so  as  to 
receive  its  smoke,  which  was  supposed  to  be  agreeable  to  barn- 
door fowls.  Peacocks,  pheasants,  guinea-hens,  partridges,  quails, 
moor-hens,  thrushes,  pigeons  in  immense  numbers,  many  smaller 
birds,  and  even  jackdaws,  were  found  in  the  establishments  of 
the  wealthier  farmers.  The  curious  scenes  in  the  Birds  of 
Aristophanes  show  the  great  familiarity  of  that  poet  with  the 
labits  and  character  of  every  known  species  of  bird. 

The  laboring  animals  were  much  the  same  as  in  modern 
times,  except  that  the  horse  was  leSs  commonly  employed  in 
the  work  of  a  farm.  Oxen  were  used  as  now.  The  arrange- 
ments of  a  Greek  dairy  were  not  unlike  our  own ;    and  though 


324  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

butter  was  not  much  used  in  the  classical  ages,  it  is  mentioned 
by  Hippocrates,  under  the  name  of  Twcepiov  (pikerion) 
Cheese  was  universally  eaten,  generally  while  fresh  and  soft. 
Milk  was  sold  in  the  Grecian  markets  by  women  ;  and  it  fre- 
quently reached  the  customer  in  the  shape  of  milk  and  water. 
A  method  sometimes  employed  for  detecting  the  fraud  —  per- 
haps it  may  be  useful  now  —  was  to  drop  a  little  milk  on  the 
thumb-nail :  if  the  milk  was  pure,  it  would  remain  in  its  place  ; 
if  not,  it  would  flow  away. 

These  are  only  a  few  points  in  the  rural  life  of  the  Greek 
farmer;  sufficient,  perhaps,  to  show  the  homely  side  of  the 
life  of  Greece,  or  at  any  rate  to  open  a  glance  into  its  labors, 
resources,  and  joys,  behind  the  splendid  scenes  that  fill  the 
theatre  of  history. 

Another  aspect  claims  our  regard  in  the  pastoral  life  of  the 
Greeks,  —  "a  kind  of  parenthetical  existence,"  —  to  borrow  the 
words  of  St.  John,  —  "a  remnant  of  the  old  nomadic  habits 
once  common  to  the  whole  race,  of  which  we  obtain  so  many 
glimpses  through  the  leafy  glades  and  grassy  avenues  of  Greek 
poetry."  Pastoral  life  in  the  East  is  said  by  travellers  to  re- 
main much  as  it  is  described  by  the  ancient  poets.  Indeed,  it 
could  not  well  be  otherwise ;  since  its  entire  simplicity  and  the 
very  limited  range  of  its  objects  afford  but  few  possibilities  of 
change.  Modern  pictures  of  pastoral  life,  by  poets  of  Western 
Europe,  are  feeble  and  mawkish,  because  they  are  mostly  drawn 
by  men  who  know  nothing  of  the  realities  on  which  pastoral 
poetry  is  founded.  In  Greece,  and  in  the  East  generally,  the 
care  of  flocks  in  the  primitive  ages  was  not  below  the  dignity 
of  a  prince ;  and  the  royal  shepherd,  in  the  tranquil  solitudes 
of  the  country,  on  the  hillsides,  under  the  lovely  skies  of  those 
delightful  regions,  could  not  help  becoming  a  poet,  and  giving 
utterance  to  his  meditations  in  song.  "  Abroad  much  after 
lark,"  says  a  writer  whom  I  have  already  quoted,  "  in  a  cli- 
mate where  the  summer  nights  are  soft  and  balmy  beyona 
expression,  and  where  the  stars  seem  lovingly  to  crowd  closer 
about  the  earth,  they  necessarily  grew  romantic  and  super- 


BUBAL  LIFE   OF   GBEECE.  326 

stitious.  Their  very  creed  was  poetry.  Tree,  rock,  mountain, 
spring,  everything  was  instinct  with  divinity,  not  mystically, 
as  in  certain  philosophic  systems,  but  literally ;  and,  as  they 
believed,  the  immortal  race  —  their  invisible  companions  at  all 
hours  —  could  when  they  pleased  become  visible,  or  rather 
remove  from  their  eyes  the  film  which  prevented  their  habitu- 
ally beholding  them." 

In  Greek  poetry,  Paris,  Anchises,  Bucolion,  and  many  others, 
will  at  once  occur  to  memory ;  and  in  sacred  history,  David, 
the  psalmist  of  Israel.  The  superb  description  of  the  night  in 
Homer  lights  up  a  pastoral  scene :  — 

"  As  when  about  the  silver  moon,  when  air  is  free  from  wind, 
And  stars  shine  clear,  to  whose  sweet  beams  high  prospects  under  the  brows 
Of  all  steep  hills  and  pinnacles  thrust  up  themselves  for  shows, 
And  even  the  lonely  valleys  joy  to  glitter  in  their  sight, 
When  the  unmeasured  firmament  bursts  to  disclose  her  light, 
And  all  the  signs  in  heaven  are  seen  that  glad  the  shepherd's  heart." 

The  dangers  of  the  shepherd's  life  afford  Homer  an  apt 
term  of  comparison  :  — 

"  As  when  the  hungry  wolves  on  folds  forsaken  by  the  watch 
Descend,  the  kids  and  tender  lambs  by  thievish  force  to  snatch ; 
Or  when  the  timid,  browsing  crew  are  scattered  far  and  wide, 
And  seized,  by  witless  shepherds  left  upon  the  mountain-side." 

And  again,  the  lion  appears  on  the  scene :  — 

"  Thus  the  night-watching  shepherds  strive,  but  vainly,  to  repel 
The  angry  lion,  whom  the  stings  of  want  and  rage  impel. 
Upon  the  carcass  fastens  he ;  his  heart  no  fear  can  quell." 

The  shepherd's  pipe,  made  of  the  donaz,  or  reed,  sounded, 
I  fancy,  much  better  in  poetry  than  in  fact.  Of  the  shepherd's 
dog  we  know  more.  Let  me  quote  the  eulogy  passed  upon 
this  noble  animal  by  an  ancient  writer  well  acquainted  with  his 
virtues.  "  The  dog  is  falsely  said  *o  be  a  mute  guardian  ;  for 
tfhat  man  announces  the  wild  beast  or  the  thief  more  clearly 
or  with  so  great  an  outcry  as  he  does  by  his  barking  ?  What 
servant  more  fond  of  his  master  ?  what  companion  more  faith- 
ful? what  guardian  more  incorruptible?  what  watchman  can 


32b*  THE  LIFE   OF  GREECE. 

be  found  more  vigilant  ?  what  defender  or  avenger  more  con- 
stant?" 

The  Arcadians  called  themselves  nrpoae\r\vot^  or  older  them 
the  moon;  and  they  passed  among  the  ancient,  and,  we  may  add, 
the  modern  poets,  as  a  race  devoted  to  eating  acorns  and  sing- 
ing to  the  pipe.  Arcadia  suggests  to  the  reader  a  vague  idea 
of  shepherds  and  shepherdesses,  sitting  in  the  cool  shade,  con- 
templating their  kids  feeding  among  the  rocks,  and  breathing 
strains  of  sentimental  passion.  Palmerius  discovers  the  de- 
scendants of  the  Arcadians  among  the  Irish,  one  of  whose 
national  insignia  is  a  triangular  harp.  Arcadia,  however,  was 
not  the  most  agreeable  seat  for  this  contemplative,  poetical 
existence.  The  best  pictures  of  pastoral  life  are  those  —  so 
fresh  and  radiant  with  natural  beauty  —  in  the  idyls  of  Theoc- 
ritus, beside  which  all  subsequent  pastoral  poetry  seems  flat 
and  foolish ;  and  they  are  drawn  from  shepherd-life  in  Sicily. 
There  are  fragments  of  other  writers  belonging  to  this  school, 
which  are  full  of  charms.  The  shepherdesses  in  these  pieces 
are  bewitching  in  hexameters,  whatever  they  may  have  been 
in  the  fresh  air  of  buxom  life ;  and  they  are  not  wanting  in 
coquetry,  if  we  are  to  believe  Theocritus,  who,  in  a  beautiful 
description  of  a  scene  wrought  on  a  pastoral  cup,  writes :  - 

"  And  there,  by  ivy  shaded,  sits  a  maid,  divinely  wrought, 
With  veil  and  circlet  on  her  brows,  by  two  fond  lovers,  sought,  — 
Both  beautiful,  with  flowing  hair,  both  suing  to  be  heard, 
On  this  side  one,  the  other  there,  but  neither  is  preferred ; 
For  now  on  this,  on  that  anon,  she  pours  her  witching  smile, 
Like  sunshine  on  the  buds  of  hope,  in  falsehood  all  and  guile, 
Though  ceaselessly,  with  swelling  eyes,  they  seek  her  heart  to  move 
By  every  soft  and  touching  art  that  wins  a  maiden's  love." 

There  is  a  daintier  bit  of  life-painting  in  a  fragment  of 
Chseremon,  representing  a  troop  of  these  beauties  sporting  b» 
moonlight.     I  will  read  a  few  verses. 

"  Another  danced,  and,  floating  free  her  garments  in  the  breeze, 
She  seemed  as  buoyant  as  the  wave  that  leaps  o'er  summer  seas , 
While  dusky  shadows  all  around  shrank  backward  from  the  place, 
Chased  by  the  beaming  splendor  6hed  like  sunshine  from  her  face." 


RURAL  LIFE   OF   GREECE.  327 

After  describing  another,  the  poet  exclaims :  — 
And  oh  !  the  image  of  her  charms,  as  clouds  in  heaven  above 
Mirrored  by  streams,  left  on  my  soul  the  stamp  of  hopeless  love." 

A  critic  not  much  given  to  sentiment  remarks :  "  There 
is  here  no  straining  after  the  ideal.  Like  Titian's  beauties, 
these  shepherdesses  are  all  creatures  of  this  earth,  filled 
with  robust  health,  dark-eyed,  warm,  impassioned,  and  some- 
what deficient  in  reserve.  They  understand  well  how  to  act 
their  part  in  a  dialogue.  For  every  bolt  shot  at  them  they 
can  return  another  as  keen.  Each  bower  and  bosky  bourn 
seems  redolent  of  their  smiles ;  their  laughter  awakens  the 
echoes ;  their  ruddy  lips  and  pearly  teeth  hang  like  a  vision 
over  every  bubbling  spring  and  love-hiding  thicket  which  they 
were  wont  to  frequent." 

I  need  not  dwell  longer  on  this  subject.  The  pastoral 
poets  of  the  Greeks  seem  to  me  to  have  the  magnetic  attrac- 
tion belonging  to  all  literature  that  breathes  the  fresh  air  of 
life  and  is  racy  of  the  earth.  Their  pieces  are  the  only  pas- 
toral poetry  that  I  can  read  without  an  uncomfortable  feel- 
ing, —  something  akin  to  sea-sickness. 

The  love  of  rural  life  was  one  of  the  deepest  passions  of 
the  Grecian  heart,  beyond  the  realm  of  Arcadia,  real  or  ideal. 
What  lovely  touches  of  nature  adorn  with  their  exquisite 
beauty  the  Dialogues  of  Plato,  and  even  the  Comedies  of  Aris- 
tophanes !  Through  the  whole  compass  of  Greek  literature, 
the  sights  and  sounds  of  the  country — the  sweet,  calm  sun- 
shine ;  the  fleecy  clouds ;  the  song  of  the  lark  and  the  night- 
ingale ;  the  murmuring  of  the  bees ;  the  rising  sun,  smiting 
the  earth  with  his  shafts ;  the  rich  meadows ;  the  cattle  feed- 
ing in  the  pastures  —  furnish  images  on  which  the  most  arti- 
ficial of  the  city  poets  delight  to  dwell,  and  share  with  the 
sea  the  thoughts  that  move  harmonious  numbers.  The  rustic 
land-owner,  shut  up  in  the  city  by  the  fashionable  wife  whom 
in  an  evil  hour  he  was  tempted  by  the  matchmaker  to  wed, 
sighs  to  return  to  his  fields  and  his  farm-house.  When  the 
Peloponnesian  war  began,  the  plains  of  Attica  were  covered 


THE   LIFE   Ot    3REECE. 

with  residences,  elegantly  furnished,  on  which  the  inhabitants 
looked  back  with  regret  and  tears  from  the  walls  of  the  city, 
while  the  Spartan  armies  were  laying  all  waste  with  fire  and 
sword.  The  country  was  tastefully  decorated  with  little  tem- 
ples or  chapels,  consecrated  to  the  nymphs  and  rural  deities ; 
and  the  lands  were  made  holy  ground,  because  in  them  were 
buried  the  ancestors  of  the  families  now  occupying  them,  — 
a  circumstance  alluded  to  in  one  of  the  legal  arguments  of 
Demosthenes  to  prove  an  ancient  title  to  an  estate,  as  one 
of  the  usual  concomitants  of  long  possession  in  the  same 
family. 

Statesmen  and  generals  delighted  to  surround  themselves 
with  gardens,  combining  every  conceivable  feature  of  a  pic- 
turesque retreat.  Xenophon,  after  his  return  from  the  expe- 
dition of  Cyrus  the  Younger,  lived  on  a  beautiful  estate  near 
Elis,  which  the  Lacedaemonians  had  granted  to  him.  The 
description  of  its  various  attractions  is  one  of  the  most  pleas- 
ing passages  in  the  Anabasis,  and  we  cease  to  wonder  that 
he  could  bear  his  exile  with  resignation.  It  was  three  miles 
from  the  temple  of  Zeus.  A  river  flowed  through  it,  well 
stocked  with  fish.  There  were  groves  and  wooded  hills 
with  plenty  of  game.  There  was  a  temple  to  Artemis,  built 
by  Xenophon  at  his  own  cost,  and  an  annual  festival  estab- 
lished in  her  honor,  to  which  was  devoted  a  tithe  of  the  in- 
come of  his  property.  The  neighbors,  with  their  wives  and 
children,  assembled  to  enjoy  the  hospitality  of  the  goddess. 
Friends  came  from  far  and  near  to  hunt  with  Xenophon  ;  and 
as  his  residence  was  on  the  way  from  Lacedaemon  to  Olym- 
pia,  gentlemen  going  to  attend  the  games  dropped  in,  and 
were  welcomed  to  the  best  by  the  hospitable  host.  And  so 
the  pupil  of  Socrates,  the  leader  of  the  immortal  retreat  of 
the  ten  thousand,  passed  the  remainder  of  his  days,  divid- 
ing his  time  between  the  manly  pleasures  of  elegant  rural 
life,  literary  pursuits,  the  society  of  friends,  and  religious 
duties.  Even  at  this  distance  of  time  one  can  hardly  picture 
to  himself  the  retirement  of  the  illustrious  exile  without  envy 


RURAL  LIFE   OF   GREECE.  32<* 

As  we  read  his  books  we  call  up  the  delightful  scenes  so  in 
harmony  with  the  simplicity  and  quiet  beauty  of  his  style. 
We  feel  the  influence  of  woodland,  plain,  and  mountain,  with 
their  refreshing  breezes  and  cooling  shades  and  flowing  waters, 
stealing  over  us  from  the  ever-enchanting  page. 

Peisistratus  and  Pericles  relieved  the  cares  of  state  by  oc- 
casional repose  in  their  gardens.  Epicurus  is  called  by  Pliny 
the  master  of  gardens.  He  held  his  school  at  Athens  in  the 
midst  of  a  garden,  in  which  was  assembled  everything  that 
could  charm  the  senses. 

The  Greek  gardens  were  laid  out  with  lawns,  groves, 
thickets,  arcades,  and  avenues.  Fountains  poured  their  wa- 
ters, which  flowed  in  winding  rivulets,  feeding  a  perpetual 
verdure.  Myrtles,  roses,  pomegranate-trees,  shed  their  per- 
fumes, which  were  wafted  by  the  breezes  through  the  opened 
apartments  of  the  house.  Beds  of  violets,  hyacinths,  and 
asphodel  gave  a  soft  and  varied  beauty  to  the  scene.  Here 
Athenian  taste  and  luxury  were  displayed.  Here  the  poetry 
of  nature  soothed  the  fierce  ardor  of  ambition,  or,  blending 
with  the  contemplations  of  philosophy,  gave  to  them  that  liv- 
ing charm  which  they  possessed  in  the  eyes  of  Milton, — 

"Not  harsh  and  crabbed,  as  dull  fools  suppose, 
But  musical  as  is  Apollo's  lute." 

With  what  rich  and  melodious  rhythm  Socrates  sets  forth  the 
beauty  of  the  scene  on  the  banks  of  the  Ilissus,  where  the 
immortal  dialogue  takes  place  between  him  and  the  youthful 
Phsedrus !  "Is  not  this  the  tree  to  which  you  were  leading 
us?  It  is  indeed  a  delightful  spot;  for  the  plane-tree  is 
lofty  and  spreading,  and  beautiful  the  stature  and  shadiness 
of  the  agnus,  which,  in  full  blossom,  should  load  the  air  of 
the  place  with  its  sweet  fragrance ;  and  most  graceful  the 
fountain  that  flows  from  under  the  plane-tree,  and  cooling 
its  water,  to  judge  by  the  foot;  sacred  to  the  nymphs  and 
Acheloiis,  it  would  seem  from  the  offerings  and  images  there. 
How  sweet  and  grateful  the  breeziness  of  the  spot !  It  resounds 
with  the  summer  music  and  the  chirping  chorus  of  the  cicadge ; 


330  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

and  tne  gentle  slope  of  the  grassy  lawn  is  a  soft  and  quiet 
pillow  for  the  head,  inviting  to  repose."  Yet  it  is  some- 
times affirmed  that  the  Greeks  had  no  appreciation  of  the 
beauties  of  nature ! 

The  city  and  the  country  present  one  of  the  contrasts  in 
the  life  of  Greece.  I  have  dealt  with  the  country  very 
briefly,  with  the  purpose  of  suggesting  rather  than  complet- 
ing the  picture.  The  intimations  are  numerous  in  the  Greek 
writers ;  on  some  points  the  details  are  quite  complete ;  but 
they  form  no  part  of  the  common  conception  of  ancient 
Hellas.  The  Greek,  as  a  farmer  or  country-gentleman,  is 
not  the  Greek  of  classical  associations ;  and  yet,  perhaps, 
precisely  in  these  relations  he  was  most  intensely  Greek. 
"  Now,  O  Socrates,"  says  Ischomachus,  the  model  man  of 
Xenophon,  "  you  shall  hear  the  philanthropy  of  this  art. 
For  can  it  be  otherwise  than  noble,  —  an  art  not  only  the 
most  useful,  but  most  agreeable  to  exercise,  most  beautiful, 
most  dear  to  gods  and  men,  and,  besides  all  this,  most  easy 
to  learn  ?  For  the  learner  is  not  obliged,  as  in  the  other  arts, 
to  spend  a  long  time  before  he  can  earn  his  living.  Other 
craftsmen  conceal  the  most  essential  rules  and  principles  of 
their  professions,  but  the  most  skilful  farmer  is  best  pleased 
when  others  witness  his  operations ;  and  if  you  ask  him,  he 
conceals  nothing  from  you,  but  will  readily  explain  to  you 
the  secret  of  his  greatest  successes ;  so  that  you  see,  Soc- 
rates, farming  has  the  strongest  tendency  to  exalt  the  moral 
character  of  those  who  are  devoted  to  it." 


LECTUKE    IV. 

ROADS.  —  HOUSES.  —  FURNITURE.  —  MARRIAGE.  —  XENOP  HON'S 
CECONOMICUS. 

We  know  but  little  of  the  state  of  the  roads  by  which  the 
communication  between  the  Greek  commonwealths  was  carried 
on.  The  roads  are  alluded  to  incidentally,  but  nowhere  par- 
ticularly described ;  and  very  few  traces  of  them,  I  believe,  are 
to  be  found  at  the  present  day.  The  Sacred  Way,  from  Athens 
to  Eleusis,  over  which  the  processions  passed  to  the  celebration 
of  the  mysteries,  is  still  discernible,  with  some  of  the  paving- 
stones,  and  the  ruts  worn  by  the  chariot-wheels.  The  direction 
of  other  roads  leading  out  of  Athens*  east,  north,  and  south, 
is  tolerably  well  ascertained.  It  seems  certain  that  the  prin- 
cipal thoroughfares  were,  from  an  early  period,  passable  for 
chariots,  but  probably  narrow,  and  not  very  elaborately  built. 
Telemachus,  journeying  in  search  of  his  father,  goes  by  ship 
to  Pylos,  but  travels  thence,  with  Nestor's  son,  in  a  car- 
riage drawn  by  a  pair  of  horses,  in  which  the  careful  house- 
keeper has  bestowed  a  plenty  of  food  and  wine  for  the  journey. 
At  the  nightfall  of  the  second  day  they  arrive  at  Lacedaemon, 
ind  stop  at  the  palace  of  Menelaus,  having  travelled  at  no  very 
rapid  rate.  In  the  legend  of  (Edipus,  the  murder  of  his  father 
takes  place  in  consequence  of  a  quarrel  between  the  attendants 
of  Laius,  who  is  travelling  in  his  royal  car  with  a  retinue,  and 
CEdipus  himself.  The  general  use  of  cars  by  the  princes  of  the 
heroic  age  implies  the  existence  of  roads.  Herodotus  employs 
a  phrase  that  points  to  two  kinds  cf  roads :  the  one,  cut  roads, 
that  is,  built  and  fenced  in ;  the  other,  mere  tracks.  Thu- 
cydides,  in  describing  the  improvements  introduced  into  Mace- 


832  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

donia  by  Archelaus,  says  that  "  he  cut  straight  roads."  Di- 
csearchus,  in  the  passage  I  read  in  a  preceding  lecture,  points 
out  some  of  the  characteristics  of  the  roads  over  which  he 
travelled.  The  nature  of  the  country  generally  indicates  the 
direction  which  the  great  highways  must  have  taken.  The 
sea  and  rivers,  so  far  as  was  possible,  were  resorted  to  as  the 
most  convenient  means  of  intercourse  between  country  and 
country.  The  principal  towns  had  inns  for  the  accommodation 
of  travellers,  and  those  who  stopped  at  them  often  had  occasion 
to  complain  of  bad  wine  and  extortionate  charges.  It  fre- 
quently happened,  however,  that  the  traveller  enjoyed  rela- 
tions of  hospitality  with  some  citizen  of  the  place  he  desired 
to  visit,  in  which  case  he  lodged  at  the  house  of  his  friend. 
Travelling  in  the  best  times  was  a  tedious  affair  in  ancient 
Greece ;  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  distances  which  appear  to  us 
insignificant  then  seemed  enormous. 

But  let  us  turn  from  these  external  arrangements  to  the 
privacy  of  domestic  life  in  Greece.  We  cannot  enter  into 
numerous  antiquarian  details,  which  would  be  inconsistent  with 
the  purpose  of  this  course.  I  shall  attempt  nothing  further 
than  to  select  some  of  the  main  points,  so  as  to  present  the 
most  characteristic  features,  and  a  few  of  the  leading  scenes. 
"  First  provide  a  house,"  was  a  precept  as  old  as  Hesiod.  Fol- 
lowing the  spirit  of  this  rule,  let  me  ask  your  attention  to  such 
particulars  of  the  building  and  furnishing  of  a  Greek  house  as 
are  least  doubtful  or  disputable.  It  will  be  readily  understood 
that  in  the  arrangements  of  houses,  as  well  as  in  all  the  other 
accommodations  of  life,  fashions  varied  from  age  to  age,  passing 
from  the  extreme  of  simplicity  to  the  height  of  luxury.  In 
different  parts  of  Greece,  also,  the  houses  were  probably  con- 
structed after  different  patterns.  There  certainly  was  a  wide 
difference  between  country  and  city  residences ;  and  in  both 
there  must  of  course  have  been  the  greatest  contrasts  between 
the  dwellings  of  the  rich  and  those  of  the  poor.  The  small 
farmer,  with  his  few  acres,  and  only  a  slave  or  two  to  assist 
him  in  their  cultivation,  lived  in  a  plain  and  homely  way,  a» 


houses.  333 

compared  with  the  man  of  large  property  and  refined  educa- 
tion, who  surrounded  himself  with  all  the  elegances  of  wealth 
and  ta,ste.  The  Spartan  lived  in  a  style  quite  different  from 
that  of  the  Athenian ;  and  in  the  city  itself,  the  poorer  citizen 
contented  himself  with  a  lodging  according  to  his  circum- 
stances' sometimes  narrow  enough.  Domestic  comforts  were 
not  so  necessary  to  any  in  the  Grecian  climate,  which  had 
ever}  qrjlity  to  tempt  one  out  of  doors,  as  under  the  sterner 
skies  of  'he  North. 

From  the  notices  that  have  come  down  to  us  incidentally  in 
the  authors,  we  can  form  only  very  general  notions  on  this 
subject.  In  putting  these  notices  together,  care  enough  has 
not  always  been  taken  to  discriminate  among  the  various  cir- 
cumstances of  time,  place,  and  rank,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
individual  taste  of  the  tenant.  In  Homer  we  have  several 
princely  establishments  described  with  considerable  detail,  as 
the  palace  of  Priam,  the  house  of  Ulysses,  the  palace  and 
gardens  of  King  Alcinoiis,  the  palace  of  Menelaus,  the  dwell- 
ing of  Nestor.  The  most  detailed  accounts  are  given  of  the 
regal  dwellings  of  Priam  in  Troy,  of  Ulysses  in  Ithaca,  and 
of  Alcinoiis  in  Scheria.  When  Hector  returns  to  Troy,  to 
beseech  the  Trojan  dames  to  offer  up  prayers  to  Athene,  the 
poet  pauses,  as  he  reaches  the  royal  threshold,  to  point  out  its 
arrangements.  Priam's  family  was  an  Oriental,  not  a  Grecian 
household.  His  harem  was  numerous,  and  his  domestic  accom- 
modations were  as  extensive  as  those  of  a  Turkish  sultan.  He 
had  fifty  sons  and  twelve  daughters ;  and  with  the  most  com- 
prehensive hospitality,  they,  with  their  wives  and  husbands,  are 
lodged  beneath  the  paternal  roof. 

"  To  Priam's  beauteous  palace  he  proceeds, 

With  polished  porches  framed ;  within  were  built, 

Of  polished  marble,  fifty  chambers  high, 

Beside  each  Other  built ;  and  there  the  sons 

Of  Priam  dwelt,  each  with  his  wedded  wife. 

And  opposite,  within  the  court,  were  built 

Twelve  other  rooms  of  polished  marble   made 

Beside  each  other,  where  the  6ons-in-law 

Abode,  each  dwelling  with  his  wedded  wife." 


334  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

In  the  twenty-fourth  book  of  the  Iliad,  Priam  drives  his 
chariot  from  the  vestibule  and  sounding  portico ;  and  in  another 
place  Hecuba  descends  to  a  ihalamos,  or  chamber,  in  which 
precious  articles  are  kept,  and  selects  from  a  chest  a  splendidly 
wrought  robe,  as  an  offering  for  Pallas  Athene. 

The  house  of  Ulysses,  in  Ithaca,  is  somewhat  more  carefully 
described  ;  and  remains,  in  some  degree  corresponding  to  it, 
were  discovered  by  Sir  William  Gell,  and  delineated  in  his 
work  on  the  geography  and  antiquities  of  Ithaca. 

"  This  house,  Eumasus,  of  Ulysses  seems 
Passing  magnificent,  and  to  be  known 
With  ease  for  his  among  a  thousand  more. 
One  pile  supports  another,  and  a  wall 
Crested  with  battlements  surrounds  the  court. 
Firm,  too,  the  folding  doors  all  force  of  man 
Defy." 

Homer,  indeed,  gives  no  detailed  outline  of  this  mansion ; 
but  as  so  much  of  the  action  of  the  Odyssey  takes  place  in 
and  around  it,  almost  every  part  of  it  is  mentioned  in  the 
course  of  the  poem.  The  establishment  of  King  Alcinoiis  — 
his  palaces,  and  magnificent  gardens  yielding  fruits  through 
the  year  —  is  upon  the  whole  the  most  attractive  one  de 
scribed  by  Homer. 

But  perhaps  we  have  already  lingered  too  long  among 
these  epic  abodes.  They  contain  the  elements  of  the  subse- 
quent house-building  of  the  Greeks,  and  as  such  deserve 
something  more  than  a  passing  allusion. 

The  houses  of  the  farmers,  in  the  historical  times,  were 
more  comfortable  than  elegant.  Strepsiades,  —  in  the  play 
of  the  Clouds,  —  who  has  been  tempted  into  a  marriage  with 
a  fine  city  lady  from  the  aristocratic  clan  of  Megacles,  has 
had  time  to  repent  at  his  leisure.  Kept  awake  by  the 
heavy  debts  incurred  by  his  spendthrift  son,  —  the  effect  of 
which  he  compares  to  the  biting  of  fleas,  —  he  muses  with 
regret  upon  the  ease  and  homely  abundance  he  enjoyed  ir 
the  country,  and  heartily  wishes  himself  back  again. 


houses.  335 

'  Alas !  alas !  forever  cursed  be  that  same  matchmaker 
Who  set  me  on  to  wed  thy  lady-mother ; 
For  I  the  sweetest  rustic  life  was  leading, 
Unwashed,  unswept,  and  doing  what  I  would  ; 
Full  of  my  bees,  my  sheep,  my  figs  and  raisins. 
Then  I,  a  farmer,  married  from  the  city 
A  niece  of  Megacles'  long-descended  house,  — 
A  proud,  luxurious,  and  high-flying  dame. 
And  so  we  married,  I  of  cheeses  smelling, 
And  lees  of  wine,  and  mighty  store  of  wool , 
But  she  with  myrrh  and  saffron  and  tongue-kisses  scented, 
Feasting  and  dainties,  and  rites  of  Genetyllis. 
I  can't  say  she  was  idle,  but  too  fast. 
I  used  to  tell  her,  showing  my  old  coat 
All  out  at  the  elbows,  « Wife,  you  are  too  fast.' " 

In  the  earlier  times  of  Sparta  the  private  dwellings  appear 
t  have  been  rude ;  but  after  the  Peloponnesian  war,  the 
Spartans,  at  least  in  the  country,  would  seem  to  have  built 
for  themselves  costly  houses,  and  furnished  them  with  many 
luxuries.  In  Athens,  also,  during  the  simple  days  of  the 
Commonwealth,  the  most  eminent  citizens  contented  them- 
selves with  dwellings  no  richer  or  better  furnished  than  those 
of  their  poor  neighbors ;  but  with  the  progress  of  luxury  and 
the  arts,  the  republican  plainness  of  the  Marathonian  times 
disappeared.  In  the  age  of  Dicaearchus,  the  general  aspect 
of  the  private  residences,  compared  with  the  splendor  of  the 
public  edifices,  was,  as  we  have  seen,  far  from  imposing;  yet 
there  must  have  been,  even  then,  many  houses  whose  inte- 
riors, at  least,  were  embellished  with  costly  furniture,  orna- 
ments, and  works  of  art  and  taste ;  and  the  luxury  of  their 
times,  contrasted  with  the  virtuous  frugality  of  their  ances- 
tors, is  the  subject  of  frequent  rebuke  by  the  orators.  But, 
whether  it  be  right  or  wrong,  such  is  the  inevitable  progress 
of  events.  There  was  one  circumstance,  however,  which 
may  have  hindered  the  growth  of  this  species  of  extravagance 
*mong  the  Greeks,  and  especially  among  the  Athenians.  In- 
door life  was  by  no  means  so  general  or  important  among 
,hem  as  among  us.     The  market,  the  court,  the  gymnasium, 


336  THE  LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

the  odeum,  the  theatre,  the  barbers'  shops,  the  work-shops, 
the  schools  of  the  philosophers  and  sophists,  and  the  leschce,  or 
club-rooms,  filled  up  the  days  of  the  citizen,  leaving  him  but 
little  time  for  home,  except  at  meals  and  during  the  period 
of  sleep ;  and  even  these  hours  were  not  always  passed  un- 
der his  own  roof.  Socrates,  as  we  know,  was  very  irregular 
in  his  hours,  haunting  every  sort  of  place  where  he  could 
enjoy  the  delights  of  talk  and  argument.  If  he  went  to  a 
symposium,  he  was  likely  enough  to  stay  all  night,  and, 
having  composed  all  his  companions  on  their  couches,  just  to 
wash  his  face,  go  to  the  lyeeum  or  academy,  and  set  in  for 
another  day's  talk ;  while  his  wife  stayed  at  home  with  the 
children,  "  nursing  her  wrath  to  keep  it  warm." 

Vitruvius,  the  architect  of  Augustus,  gives  the  plan  of  a 
Greek  house  in  his  day ;  and  so  far  as  concerns  the  general 
divisions  and  their  uses,  his  description  coincides  with  the 
intimations  of  other  authors ;  but  in  one  important  point  he 
contradicts  them,  and  that  is  as  to  the  position  of  the  women's 
apartments,  which  he  places  in  the  front  part  of  the  house. 
This  has  given  great  trouble  to  the  architectural  critics,  who 
cannot  conceive  that  the  Greeks  should  have  allowed  the 
women  to  live  next  the  street,  while  the  men  were  thrown 
into  the  background.  Some  of  them  propose  a  compromise 
by  arranging  the  two  suites  of  apartments  side  by  side,  on  the 
front,  giving  both  sexes  an  equal  privilege  of  peeping  into 
the  street ;  others  have  placed  the  women's  apartments  in 
the  front  of  the  second  story ;  but  though  the  second  story 
was  so  used  in  the  heroic  palaces,  the  general  arangement  in 
the  historical  times  was  undoubtedly  to  place  the  rooms  occu- 
pied by  the  chief  members  of  the  family  on  the  ground  floor. 
Perhaps  Vitruvius  was  giving  directions  for  building  accord- 
ing to  a  fashion  prevalent  in  his  times,  or  in  some  single  lo- 
cality. At  all  events,  though  no  specimen  of  a  Greek  house 
remains  to  illustrate  the  subject,  unless  the  houses  of  the 
buried  Pompeii  may  be  so  termed,  the  outline  of  the  usua>; 
arrangements    can    be    determined    with    tolerable    precision 


houses.  337 

These  arrangements  may,  however,  have  differed  much  at  dif- 
ferent periods. 

The  two  principal  divisions,  into  which  all  houses  were 
laid  out,  were  the  andronitis,  or  men's  apartments,  and 
the  gynceconitis,  or  women's  apartments ;  and  according  to 
Lysias,  in  the  time  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  or  later,  the 
women's  apartments  were  on  the  ground  floor,  and  behind 
those  of  the  men.  The  front  was-  narrow,  but  the  space 
required  for  all  the  household  purposes  was  secured  by  car- 
rying the  house  in  to  a  considerable  depth ;  and  in  the 
city,  houses  were  built  side  by  side  with  only  party-walls  be- 
tween them.  The  outside  wall  was  usually  constructed  of 
stone  or  brick,  very  skilfully  made,  and  then  covered  with 
stucco.  Socrates's  idea  of  a  good  house  was,  that  it  should  be 
cool  in  summer  and  warm  in  winter;  convenient  for  the 
family,  and  safe  for  their  property;  that  the  winter-rooms 
should  be  towards  the  south,  and  higher,  to  let  in  more  sun ; 
the  summer-rooms  lower,  and  towards  the  north,  to  receive 
the  cooling  breezes.  This  seems  to  imply  a  semiannual  mi- 
gration from  one  side  of  the  house  to  the  other.  Usually 
there  was  no  open  space  between  the  street  and  the  house- 
door,  though  the  more  aristocratic  residences  sometimes  stood 
within  enclosures.  In  front  was  placed  a  statue  of  Apollo 
Agyeus,  or  a  bust  of  Hermes,  the  object  of  religious  vener- 
ation to  the  members  of  the  household.  Over  the  door  was 
set  an  inscription  containing  the  name  of  the  owner,  and  some 
words  of  good  omen,  as  ayada>  dai/xopi,  to  the  good  genius. 
The  threshold  was  the  object  of  a  superstitious  notion,  that 
it  was  unfortunate  to  tread  on  it  with  the  left  foot ;  and  this 
is  the  reason  why  the  steps  leading  into  a  temple  were  of  an 
uneven  number.  The  door  was  generally  made  of  wood, 
but  sometimes  of  marble  or  bronze,  especially  the  doors  of 
temples.  It  turned  on  a  pivot,  and  was  secured  by  bolts 
running  into  a  socket  in  the  sill,  and  by  a  cross-bar,  inserted 
into  sockets  on  each  side.  Locks  and  keys  are  also  described, 
the  locksmith  weing  called  a  /cXetoWoio?,  or  key-maker;  and 

vol.   I.  22 


338  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

if  we  may  believe  the  novelist  Achilles  Tatius,  doors  were 
sometimes  locked  both  inside  and  out,  and  the  door  opened 
indifferently  either  way.  Passing  the  hall-door,  we  enter  a 
passage  called  the  0vpa>v  or  dvpcopeiov,  on  the  sides  of  which 
were  arranged  the  porter's  lodge  and  the  stables.  Beyond 
these  we  enter  a  square  court  open  to  the  sky,  suriounded 
by  a  peristyle  and  covered  arcades.  This  is  the  androni- 
tis,  around  which  chambers  for  the  use  of  the  male  mem- 
bers of  the  family  opened  into  the  columned  passages.  Di- 
rectly in  the  rear  of  this  a  passage  conducted  to  another  open 
square,  surrounded  on  the  sides  by  columns,  and  similarly  fur- 
nished with  covered  arcades,  upon  which,  on  each  of  three 
sides,  chambers  opened.  The  passage  was  called  p,erav\o<;  or 
/j,€<rav\os,  and  these  apartments  constituted  the  gynaeconitis 
and  its  appurtenances.  On  the  side  of  the  gyngeconitis  oppo- 
site the  entrance  was  a  sort  of  alcove,  called  the  irpocnas, 
or  antechamber,  which  opened  on  the  right  and  left  into  the 
ihalamos  and  amphithalamos,  or  principal  bedchambers  of  the 
mansion ;  and  the  rooms  on  the  other  sides  were  rooms  for 
eating  and  various  household  purposes.  The  rooms  around  the 
andronitis  were  saloons,  eating-rooms,  and  other  apartments  for 
the  use  of  the  men,  and  in  some  houses  a  particular  apartment 
was  designated  especially  for  the  entertainment  of  company. 
In  many  houses  there  was  a  second  story ;  but  it  was  used  only 
^"0  lodge  the  slaves  and  servants,  or  sometimes,  when  the  house 
Mras  crowded  with  visitors,  for  the  accommodation  of  guests. 
In  the  wealthier  establishments  the  guest-chambers  were  sep- 
arated from  the  rest  of  the  house,  that  the  visitors,  if  they 
chose,  might  be  perfectly  retired.  The  upper  story,  in  some 
houses,  projected  so  as  to  form  balconies.  Behind  the  thalamoi 
were  large  rooms,  in  which  the  mistress  of  the  house  superin- 
tended the  work  of  her  handmaids,  —  the  preparation  of  wool, 
spinning,  embroidery,  and  the  like.  A  door  is  also  mentioned 
as  opening  from  the  rear  of  the  house  into  a  garden.  The 
roofs  wrere  mostly  flat,  though  pointed  roofs  are  also  alluded 
to  ;  and  they  furnished  an  agreeable  resort  in  the  cool  of  the 
evening. 


houses.  339 

The  rooms  weru  lighted  by  openings  in  the  roofs  of  the  ar- 
cades, and  by  windows.  Glass  was  probably  not  used  till  a 
later  age.  The  house  was  warmed  sometimes  by  fire  in  fire- 
places. It  has  been  strangely  supposed  there  were  no  chim- 
neys ;  but  there  are  certainly  several  words  (like  Kwrrvoho^i}^ 
meaning  smoke-receivers,  if  not  chimneys,  and  it  is  difficult 
to  imagine  what  they  were  used  for,  since  human  smoke- 
receivers  had  not  yet  vexed  the  patience  of  much-enduring 
housekeepers.  In  one  of  the  comedies  a  young  man  shuts  up 
his  father,  to  keep  him  out  of  litigation.  Suddenly  he  calls  for 
help,  as  the  old  gentleman,  anticipating  the  sooty  sweep  of 
modern  times,  is  creeping  up  the  chimney.     He  exclaims : 

"  Poseidon,  what  a  noise  is  in  the  flue  ! 
Who  's  there  ?  " 

"  Smokelander,  soaring  up  aloft  ! " 

But  his  escape  is  prevented  by  clapping  a  lid  on  the  top  of  the 
chimney,  —  from  which  I  infer  that  there  were  chimneys  in 
those  days.  Some  of  the  rooms  were  heated  by  braziers,  or 
portable  stoves,  —  like  those  carried  by  our  grandmothers  to 
church  in  the  winter,  before  furnaces  formed  a  part  of  public 
worship, — and  by  chafing-dishes. 

Until  a  late  period,  the  floor  and  walls  were  only  plastered 
and  whitewashed.  Mosaic  floors  and  painted  walls  belong  to 
the  times  of  advancing  wealth  and  luxury.  Plato  and  Xeno- 
phon  declaim  against  these  innovations,  and  Socrates  con- 
siders such  ornaments  more  plague  than  profit ;  and  these 
discussions  among  the  thinkers  of  the  age  show  that  the  arts 
of  household  embellishment  were  creeping  in,  even  in  their 
days.  Before  the  time  of  Pompeii,  they  were  the  universal 
rage,  in  spite  of  the  philosophers.  The  following  is  a  curi- 
ous charge  against  Alcibiades  by  Andocides,  the  orator,  when 
speaking  of  his  pretensions  to  democracy  in  the  midst  of  deeds 
of  great  violence.  "  He  went  to  such  a  pitch  of  audacity, 
hat,  having  persuaded  Agatharchus  the  painter  to  accom- 
pany him  home,  he  compelled  him  to  paint  the  walls  of  his 
house.     The  artist  remonstrated,  alleging  that  he  had  other 


340  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

contracts  to  execute,  —  which  was  true.  But  Alcibiades  threat- 
ened to  send  him  to  prison  unless  he  instantly  went  to  work, 
which  he  did ;  nor  did  he  get  away  until  the  fourth  month 
afterwards,  when,  deceiving  the  guards,  he  made  his  escape. 
But  this  man  was  so  lost  to  shame,  that,  instead  of  repenting  of 
his  deeds  of  violence,  he  commenced  a  suit  against  the  artist 
for  leaving  his  work  incomplete." 

Having  built  our  house,  let  us  proceed  to  furnish  it.  We 
have  as  great  a  variety  of  articles  to  select  from  in  the  shops 
of  Athenian  workmen,  as  anywhere  else  in  the  world.  The 
principal  rooms  were  furnished  with  sofas,  or  seats  running 
along  the  walls,  covered  sometimes  with  skins,  sometimes  with 
purple  carpets,  with  heaps  of  cushions  to  rest  upon,  —  some- 
times movable  and  sometimes  immovable.  The  tables  were, 
like  ours,  either  round,  square,  or  oblong,  and  for  these  the 
most  costly  woods  were  imported  from  the  East.  There  were 
no  table-cloths ;  but  the  tables  were  wiped  down  with  sponges. 
Chairs,  ottomans,  and  couches,  of  every  variety  of  form  and  in 
the  most  elegant  styles,  adorned  the  room.  In  the  Homeric 
times,  the  men  sat  at  table ;  but  afterwards  they  adopted  the 
Oriental  custom  of  lazily  reclining  on  a  luxurious  couch.  They 
had  the  greatest  variety  of  earthen  and  metallic  plates,  cups, 
and  goblets,  as  we  see  them  delineated  on  the  vases  and  other 
works  of  art.  Drinking-cups  were  the  object  of  special  atten- 
tion. Their  forms  were  elegant,  and  of  wonderful  variety ; 
and  their  size  would  have  astonished  a  teetotaller.  Nestor, 
that  sober  old  councillor  of  the  Grecian  camp,  made  nothing 
of  draining  a  beaker,  mixed  in  thirds,  which  two  common  men 
could  not  lift;  and  —  more  extraordinary  still  —  Hercules  car- 
ried about  with  him  a  cup  holding  wine  enough  to  quench  his 
ordinary  thirst,  which  having  exhausted,  he  set  it  afloat  and 
steered,  more  than  half-seas  over,  to  any  part  of  the  world  he 
oleased. 

I  do  not  know  that  there  is  any  form  of  bedstead,  from  the 
four-poster  to  the  French,  which  may  not  be  found  described  by 
writers  or  represented  in  works  of  art.     Ulysses  manufacturea 


FURNITURE.  341 

one  for  himself,  of  olive-wood  inlaid  with  gold  and  ivory.  The 
bed  rested  sometimes  on  boards  laid  across  the  frame,  on 
thongs  of  ox-hide  stretched  over  one  another,  or  on  a  netting 
of  cord.  Flato  speaks  of  bedsteads  made  of  solid  silver ;  Ath- 
enaeus  describes  them  as  made  of  ivory,  and  embossed  with 
beautifully  wrought  figures ;  and  Lucian  has  them  veneered 
with  Indian  tortoise-shell,  inlaid  with  gold.  In  Thessaly,  beds 
were  stuffed  with  fine  grass.  According  to  Athenseus,  effemi- 
nate gentlemen  sometimes  slept  on  beds  of  sponge.  Fashion- 
able people  in  Athens  slept  under  coverlets  of  dressed  peacock- 
skins,  with  the  feathers  on.  Clearchus,  the  author  of  a  treatise 
on  Sleep,  describes  the  bed  of  a  Paphian  prince  in  such  a  way 
that  one  can  hardly  keep  his  eyes  open  while  reading  of  it. 
"  Over  the  soft  mattresses,  supported  by  a  silver-footed  bed- 
stead, was  flung  a  short-grained  Sardian  carpet  of  the  most 
expensive  kind.  A  coverlet  of  downy  texture  succeeded,  and 
upon  this  was  cast  a  costly  counterpane  of  Amorginian  purple. 
Cushions  variegated  with  the  richest  purple  supported  his 
head ;  while  two  soft  Dorian  pillows  of  pale  pink  gently  raised 
his  feet." 

One  of  the  greatest  improvements  introduced  by  the  Greeks 
into  the  art  of  sleeping  was  the  practice  of  undressing  before 
going  to  bed,  —  a  thing  unheard  of  until  hit  upon  by  their  in- 
ventive genius.  Bed-coverings  were  often  perfumed  with 
fragrant  essences  from  the  East.  Counterpanes  were  not  only 
perfumed,  but  embroidered  with  figures  of  animals  and  men 
The  luxury  of  laziness  was  celebrated  by  Ephippus :  — 

"  How  I  delight 
To  roll  upon  the  dainty  coverlets, 
Breathing  the  perfume  of  the  rose,  and  steeped 
In  tears  of  myrrh !  " 

Theocritus  speaks  of 

"  Carpets  of  purple,  softer  far  than  sleep, 
Woven  in  Mil°sian  looms." 

The  place  of  the  kitchen,  with  a  cooking-stove  and  fry- 
ing-pans, was  ascertained  in  one  of  the  houses  of  Pompeii,  — 


342  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

that  of  Pansa.  From  the  Greeks,  although  a  great  deal  is 
said  about  cooks,  we  have  very  little  about  the  locality  of 
the  kitchen.  It  seems  sometimes  to  have  been  a  separate 
structure  from  the  house,  and  well  supplied  with  all  the  neces- 
sary utensils.  In  Athens,  the  kitchen  was  furnished  with 
sinks,  kneading-troughs,  pots,  pans,  and  cutlery.  Clearchus, 
of  Soli,  gives  a  tolerable  list  of  kitchen-furniture,  comprising, 
among  other  articles,  a  three-legged  table  and  a  chytra,  or 
earthen  pot  for  soup,  on  which  considerable  artistic  taste  was 
expended.  In  the  Hippias  of  Plato,  Socrates  has  something  to 
say  on  the  beauty  of  this  useful  vessel,  particularly  when  it 
held  seven  gallons.  The  ladle  was  made  of  the  wood  of  the 
fig-tree,  to  give  a  pleasant  flavor  to  the  soup.  In  the  opinion 
of  the  philosopher,  this  kind  of  ladle  was  better  than  one  of 
gold,  which  might  crack  the  pot,  spill  the  broth,  and  put  out 
the  fire.  Next  we  have  a  mortar,  caldron,  mug,  oil-flask, 
rush  basket,  cleaver,  platters,  bowls,  larding-pins,  stew-pans, 
tinder-boxes,  chopping-blocks,  fish-kettles,  spits,  andirons, 
ovens,  bean  and  barley  roasters,  sieves,  wine-strainers,  colan- 
ders, crates,  chafing-dishes,  and  a  good  many  articles  not  t»> 
be  found  at  Mr.  Waterman's.  The  fuel  commonly  used  was 
wood,  charcoal,  and  sometimes  mineral  coal.  Bellows  were 
employed  from  the  time  of  Homer. 

From  the  kitchen  we  pass  by  the  association  of  contrast,  as 
the  philosophers  call  it,  to  the  toilette  of  the  mistress  of  the 
house.  Dress  and  costume  will  be  referred  to  in  another 
place ;  we  are  now  considering  only  the  different  parts  of  the 
house,  with  their  several  furnishings.  A  good  deal  of  attention 
was  paid  to  the  ornamenting  of  the  person,  even  in  the  heroic 
age.  Ear-rings  are  named  in  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey ;  and 
eight  or  ten  different  kinds  of  them  are  mentioned.  Necklaces 
were  as  various.  Of  armlets  and  bracelets  there  was  a  great 
diversity.  Signet  and  jewelled  rings  adorned  the  taper  fingers 
of  the  Grecian  ladies.  They  had  tooth-powder,  black  paint  for 
the  eyebrows,  rouge-pots,  blanching-varnish,  essence-bottles, 
hair-powder,  exquisite  dyes  for  the  hair,  oils  for  softening  it  and 


MARRIAGE.  348 

giving  it  a  charming  gloss,  curling-irons,  fillets,  golden  pins, 
and  so  on,  without  end. 

Perhaps  these  few  details  will  be  sufficient  to  suggest  the 
idea  of  what  a  Greek  house  of  the  better  class  was.  It  cer- 
tainly was  not  deficient  in  any  of  the  means  and  appliances  of 
a  tolerably  comfortable  existence.  Following  out  the  spirit  of 
the  ancient  and  modern  maxim,  which  directs  us  to  provide  a 
house  and  then  to  get  a  wife,  let  us  see  how  the  second  part 
of  the  rule  was  practised  by  the  Greeks.  I  have  already  al- 
luded to  the  fact  that  monogamy,  or  the  marriage  of  one  man 
to  one  woman,  was  early  established  as  the  basis  of  Hellenic 
society.  It  is  true  that  the  traditions  of  the  heroes  do  not 
represent  them  all  as  adhering  to  this  rule.  Hercules  trav- 
elled about  the  earth,  subduing  monsters  and  marrying  wives ; 
wherever  he  journeyed,  he  set  up  a  domestic  establishment: 
but  the  jealousies  to  which  this  vagrant  style  of  domesticity  ex- 
posed him  cost  him  his  life  ;  he  put  on  the  poisoned  tunic  of 
Nessus,  sent  to  him  by  Dejaneira,  and  expired  in  agony  on 
the  funeral  pile.  Yet  despite  this  sad  experience,  his  spirit 
Ascended  to  Olympus,  and  there  married  Hebe,  the  daughter  of 
Hera,  greatly  against  the  wishes  of  the  old  lady,  and  that  is  the 
last  we  hear  of  him.  After  all,  there  was  not  much  in  the 
earthly  fortunes  of  Hercules  to  tempt  his  admirers  into  imitat- 
ing his  example  ;  and  the  moral  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
lost  on  them. 

The  education  of  girls,  in  Athens,  was  for  the  most  part  a 
secluded  one.  Whatever  accomplishments  they  acquired  were 
acquired  in  the  presence  and  under  the  superintendence  of  the 
mother.  There  were,  however,  many  celebrations,  connected 
with  the  religion  of  the  country,  in  which  the  women  partici- 
pated. They  walked  in  processions  through  the  streets  of  the 
city  to  the  temples  of  the  gods ;  they  attended  funerals  and  mar- 
riages ;  and  it  would  seem  that,  in  the  more  primitive  times  at 
least,  youths  and  maidens  joined  in  some  of  the  public  dances. 
They  were,  also,  present  at  the  theatre,  at  least  at  some  of  the 
representations,  and  they  took  part  in  the  Eleusinian  mysteries. 


344  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

Thus  there  were  not  wanting  numerous  occasions  for  men  and 
women  to  become  acquainted  with  each  other,  —  occasions 
nearly  as  good  as  the  modern  ball-room  affords.  Thrasyme- 
des,  an  Athenian  youth,  fell  in  love  with  the  daughter  of 
Peisistratus,  and  ventured  to  salute  her  as  she  walked  in  a 
religious  procession.  This  liberty  was  resented  by  the  young 
men,  her  brothers ;  but  the  father,  taking  a  more  sensible  view 
of  the  case,  said  to  them,  "  If  we  punish  men  for  loving  us, 
what  shall  we  do  with  those  that  hate  us  ?  "  But  the  course 
of  true  love  did  not  yet  run  quite  smooth.  The  lover  deter- 
mined to  carry  the  young  lady  off.  Taking  some  of  his  com- 
panions with  him,  he  seized  the  opportunity  of  a  sacrifice  on  the 
sea-shore,  and,  placing  her  in  a  boat,  set  sail  for  JEgina.  Un- 
fortunately, one  of  her  brothers,  happening  to  be  cruising  about 
the  bay  on  the  watch  for  pirates,  captured  the  bark,  and  car- 
ried the  whole  party  back  to  Athens.  They  were  brought  into 
the  presence  of  Peisistratus,  and,  expecting  nothing  better  than 
death,  told  him  to  do  what  he  pleased,  since  they  had  staked 
their  lives  on  the  venture,  and  were  quite  ready  to  take  the 
consequences.  The  old  gentleman,  admiring  their  spirit,  freely 
bestowed  his  daughter  on  Thrasymedes.  The  lovers  were 
married ;  and  here,  like  a  modern  novel,  the  story  ends. 

It  was  not  at  all  unusual  for  enamored  young  gentlemen  to 
cover  walls,  columns,  or  trees  with  the  names  of  the  maidens 
who  had  inspired  them  with  the  tender  passion.  Saj's  Lucian, 
"  Every  wall  was  carved,  and  all  the  bark  of  the  soft  tree 
proclaimed  the  beautiful  Aphrodite."  Even  the  leaves  of  trees 
were  written  over  with  the  beloved  name.  Sometimes  verses 
were  sent  to  the  object  of  affection  ;  sometimes  garlands  of 
flowers  were  hung  before  her  doors ;  sometimes  the  love-sick 
swain  wore  a  wreath  all  awry  upon  his  head,  to  signify  the 
agitated  state  of  his  feelings.  Maximus  Tyrius,  a  later  Greek 
writer,  as  quoted  by  St.  John,  speaking  of  the  origin  of  love, 
says :  "Its  wellspring  is  the  beauty  of  the  soul,  gleaming  up- 
ward through  the  body ;  and  as  flowers  seen  under  water 
appear  still  more   brilliant   and  exquisite    than   they   are,    so 


MARRIAGE.  34* 

mental  excellence  seems  to  manifest  additional  splendor,  when 
invested  with  corporeal  loveliness."  By  the  best  minds  of 
antiquity  certainly  the  relation  of  the  sexes  in  the  family  was 
as  justly  estimated  as  it  is  at  the  present  day ;  and  they  have 
left  as  admirable  pictures  of  the  influence  of  the  affections  on 
life  and  conduct  as  are  to  be  found  in  modern  literature. 
Witness  the  stories  of  Odysseus  and  Penelope,  of  Alcestis  and 
Admetus,  of  Haemon  and  Antigone.  Even  the  satirical  Lucian 
calls  the  union  of  husband  and  wife  a  divine  and  holy  law. 
To  the  god  of  love  altars  were  built,  sacrifices  offered,  and 
festivals  instituted.  In  the  words  of  an  eloquent  writer,  "  Love 
breathed  the  breath  of  life  into  their  poetry ;  it  was  supposed 
to  elicit  music  and  verse  from  the  coldest  human  clay,  like  the 
sun's  rays  from  the  fabulous  Memnon ;  it  allied  itself  in  its 
energies  with  freedom ;  to  love,  in  the  imagination  of  a 
Greek,  was  to  cease  to  be  a  slave ;  it  emancipated  and  ren- 
dered noble  whomsoever  it  inspired ;  it  floated  winged  through 
the  air,  and  descended  even  in  dreams  upon  the  minds  of  men 
or  women,  revealing  to  sight  the  forms  of  persons  unknown, 
annihilating  distance,  trampling  over  rank,  confounding  to- 
gether gods  and  men  by  its  irresistible  force." 

It  was  a  tendency  of  the  Greek  mind  to  trace  every  institu- 
tion back  to  some  inventor;  and  Cecrops  has  the  honor  of 
having  invented  marriage. 

There  is  an  opposite  picture  to  that  just  given.  From 
Hesiod  downward,  there  were  not  wanting  sarcastic  writers, 
who  held  up  the  female  character  to  derision  and  contempt ; 
charging  women,  in  the  mass,  with  every  vice  that  could  ren- 
der them  most  despicable,  —  with  gossiping,  gadding  about  the 
streets,  intriguing,  gluttony,  hard  drinking,  extravagance.  Eu- 
ripides was  the  most  poetical  of  these  misogynists ;  and  yet 
even  he  drew  the  lovely  character  of  Alcestis.  Of  course,  in 
their  general  representations  of  the  marriage  life,  these  writers 
regard  it  as  a  necessary  evil,  which  must  be  submitted  to  for 
reasons  of  state.  But  it  is  a  curious  commentary  on  these 
satirists,  that,  while  every  conceivable  crime  is  discussed  by  the 


346  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

Attic  orators  as  having  been  committed  by  men,  there  is,  sc 
far  as  I  remember,  in  the  whole  body  of  the  legal  arguments 
preserved,  only  a  single  instance  of  the  impeachment  of  the 
character  of  a  married  woman.  It  is  true  that  Plato  describes 
the  feminine  character  as  more  secret  and  stealthy  than  that 
of  man ;  and  it  is  true,  too,  that  the  legal  position  of  woman 
was,  in  the  utmost  degree,  that  of  dependence. 

The  peculiar  view  which  the  law  took  of  the  duty  of  mar- 
riage perhaps  has  had  some  influence  in  lowering  our  estimate 
of  the  institution,  as  it  existed  in  ancient  Greece ;  and  the 
particular  modes  by  which  marriages  were  doubtless,  in  many 
cases,  brought  about,  have  helped  to  strengthen  the  misappre- 
hension. Thus  at  Sparta  the  man  who  did  not  marry,  or  who 
postponed  marrying  too  long,  laid  himself  open  to  a  prosecu- 
tion. Solon  is  said  to  have  made  a  similar  law,  though  he  was 
never  married.  All  this  shows  that  marriage  was  looked  upon 
by  the  lawgivers  as  an  institution  on  which  the  whole  political 
structure  rested,  yet  without  denying  that  it  had  another 
aspect  with  regard  to  its  private  relations,  and  its  bearings 
on  individual  happiness.  It  is  very  true  that  the  intermar- 
riage of  children  was  often  settled  by  the  parents,  probably 
without  much  consulting  the  inclinations  of  the  parties  most 
concerned  ;  young  men  were  often  put  under  the  restraints  of 
matrimony  as  a  remedy  for  dissipation ;  fortunes  were  united 
by  wedding  the  heirs  of  adjoining  properties;  dilapidated 
estates  were  repaired  by  seeking  out  and  securing  the  hands 
of  heiresses ;  and,  in  the  last  resort,  the  daughter  was  obliged 
to  submit  to  the  father's  authority,  and  to  take  whomsoever  he 
chose  to  give,  for  better  or  worse.  It  must  have  happened 
that  marriages  often  turned  out  unhappily  when  contracted  in 
this  manner,  with  little  or  no  mutual  knowledge  ;  and  one  of 
the  reforms  suggested  by  Plato  was  a  mode  of  bringing  men 
and  women  into  a  better  acquaintance  with  one  another. 
Besides  this,  there  were  in  Athens  persons  whose  business  was 
match-making,  as  poor  Strepsiades  found  to  his  cost. 

Bachelors,  if  too  old,  were  subject  to  a  legal  penalty,  both  in 


MARRIAGE.  347 

Sparta  and  in  Athens.  At  what  age  they  were  supposed  to 
have  reached  the  end  of  their  tether  we  are  not  informed. 
Whether  any  indulgence  was  extended  to  those  unhappy  abnor- 
mal s  who,  having  made  frequent  experiments,  could  honestly 
plead  the  impossibility  of  finding  any  one  to  have  them,  remains 
also  doubtful.  Probably  they  were  not  excused ;  the  law  pre- 
suming that  some  one  of  the  many  methods  of  getting  a  wife 
would  meet  the  most  exceptional  case.  These  are  agreement 
between  the  parents  or  guardians ;  agreement  between  the  par- 
ties ;  a  bargain  negotiated  by  a  match-broker ;  elopement  with 
an  heiress  ;  and,  finally,  the  legacy  of  a  departing  friend,  who, 
by  the  law  of  Athens,  could  devise  not  only  his  estate,  but  his 
widow,  as  a  mark  of  particular  regard,  to  a  surviving  friend 
or  kinsman.  In  truth,  a  bachelor  on  compulsion,  after  these 
methods  had  been  exhausted,  must  have  been  a  deplorable 
nondescript. 

In  the  Homeric  age  the  suitor  paid  to  the  father  of  the 
lady  a  sum  proportioned  to  his  circumstances,  or  perhaps  to 
his  estimate  of  the  value  of  the  purchase  ;  though  the  princely 
brides  of  that  age  are  also  spoken  of  as  bringing  large  posses- 
sions to  their  husbands.  In  the  historical  times  the  dowry  was 
the  subject  of  legal  regulation ;  and  at  Athens  a  considerable 
part  of  the  movable  property  was  held  in  this  form.  It  was 
a  matter  of  frequent  litigation,  as  appears  especially  in  the 
speeches  of  Isaeus.  The  dowry  was  generally  indispensable  to 
marriage.  We  are  told  that  the  dowry  of  the  daughters  of  the 
poor  citizens  varied  from  ten  to  thirty  minas,  or  from  one  hun- 
dred and  eighty  to  five  hundred  and  forty  dollars,  which  last 
was  the  sum  bestowed  by  the  state  on  the  daughters  of  Aristi- 
des,  who  died  poor.  The  daughter  of  Hipponicus  received  ten 
talents,  or  about  eleven  thousand  dollars,  with  the  promise  of 
as  much  more.  This,  however,  was  an  extraordinary  fortune. 
The  husband  was  obliged  by  law  to  give  security  for  the  dowry, 
—  he  receiving  only  the  income  of  it  during  the  continuance  of 
the  marriage  relation,  —  the  property  belonging  to  the  wife  and 
children. 


348  THE  LIFE   OF  GREECE. 

The  marriage  having  been  determined  on,  the  first  step 
taken  was  the  betrothal,  made  by  the  legal  guardian  of  the 
bride,  and  attended  by  the  friends  and  relatives  of  both  parties, 
on  which  occasion  the  dowry  of  the  wife  was  agreed  upon. 

A  day  or  two  before  the  marriage  a  sacrifice  was  offered  by 
the  father  of  the  bride  to  Hera,  Artemis,  and  the  Fates,  to 
whom  the  bride  consecrated  a  lock  of  her  hair.  On  the  wed- 
ding day  the  happy  pair  were  bathed  in  water  taken  from  a 
particular  fountain  at  Athens,  the  Enneacrounos.  Then  they 
put  on  their  best  attire,  —  their  wedding  garments  ;  and  the 
friends  of  both  families  having  assembled,  the  women  engaged 
in  the  recitation  of  prayers  and  the  presentation  of  offerings. 
After  these  ceremonies  were  performed,  the  bride  was  led  from 
the  house,  and  placed  in  an  open  carriage  between  the  bride- 
groom and  his  paranymphus  or  groomsman,  —  both  robed  in 
the  most  costly  attire,  and  crowned  with  garlands.  A  proces- 
sion was  formed  of  the  company  present,  which  moved  on  to  the 
temple,  where  a  part  of  the  ceremony  was  usually  performed, 
the  oath  of  fidelity  taken,  and  the  hand  of  the  bride  placed  by 
the  father  in  that  of  the  bridegroom.  In  later  times  the  cere- 
monies consumed  neai'ly  all  the  day,  and  the  procession  arrived 
at  the  house  of  the  newly  married  pair  not  long  before  night- 
fall. Hymeneal  songs,  accompanied  by  the  flute,  were  sung 
as  the  procession  passed,  and  the  people  on  the  way  poured  out 
their  good  wishes  and  congratulations.  The  bride  was  conduct- 
ed into  her  future  home  by  the  bridegroom's  mother  with  a 
lighted  torch,  and  sweetmeats  were  scattered  over  them  as  they 
entered.  In  some  places  the  axletree  of  the  carriage  was 
then  broken,  to  intimate  that,  having  found  a  new  home,  the 
bride  would  have  no  occasion  to  return  to  her  father's  house. 
The  house  was  splendidly  illuminated  ;  and,  to  suggest  the 
idea  of  practical  domestic  duties,  there  was  a  great  show  of 
pestles,  sieves,  and  pitchers.  An  ancient  hymn  was  chanted, 
the  burden  of  which  was,  "  I  have  escaped  the  worse,  I 
have  found  the  better,"  —  words  to  be  commended  to  the  seri- 
ous consideration  of  all  single  gentlemen  who  have  chosen  the 


xenophon's  CECONOMICU8.  349 

worse  and  shunned  the  better.  At  the  close  of  the  hymn  a 
troop  of  dancing  girls,  crowned  with  myrtle-wreaths,  entered, 
and  performed  an  expressive  ballet,  appropriate  to  the  occasion. 
The  feast  was  sumptuous,  consisting  of  wines,  meats,  sweet- 
meats, and  wedding  cake.  The  guests  at  this  feast  were 
considered  in  the  light  of  legal  witnesses  to  the  marriage. 
Women  were  present,  but  sat  at  different  tables  from  the 
men,  with  the  veiled  bride  among  them.  The  last  ceremony 
of  the  feast  was  the  eating  of  a  quince  by  the  husband  and  wife 
together,  to  signify  that  their  communion  should  be  sweet  and 
harmonious.  When  the  company  had  retired,  the  „  epithala- 
mium  was  sung  by  a  chorus  of  damsels  standing  at  the  door  of 
the  7rao-Ta?,  or  nuptial  chamber.  Another  song  was  chanted 
on  the  following  morning,  and  the  day  was  occupied  in  re- 
ceiving presents  from  friends. 

Perhaps  I  ought  to  leave  the  subject  here ;  but  as  there  is 
a  pretty  fair  sketch  of  a  good  housekeeper  in  Xenophon's 
(Economicus,  I  will  close  this  Lecture  by  an  abridged  transla- 
tion of  it.  The  work  is  intended  to  embody  the  ideas  of  Soc- 
rates on  the  management  of  a  family ;  and  the  passage  to  which 
I  refer  is  that  in  which  he  gives  an  account  of  a  conversation 
he  once  held  with  a  friend,  Ischomachus  by  name,  shortly  after 
that  gentleman's  marriage. 

"  Seeing  him  one  day,"  says  Socrates,  "  sitting  in  the  porch 
of  Zeus  Eleutherios,  as  he  seemed  to  be  at  leisure,  I  ap- 
proached him,  and,  taking  a  seat  by  him,  said,  '  How  is  \t, 
O  Ischomachus,  that  you,  so  little  accustomed  to  be  unem- 
ployed, are  sitting  here  ? '  'I  should  not  be  here,  had  I  not 
agreed  to  wait  for  some  friends.' "  After  a  few  preliminary 
compliments,  Ischomachus  remarks,  that  he  is  entirely  free  to 
attend  to  his  business  out  of  doors,  because  his  wife  is  fully 
competent  to  manage  everything  in  the  house ;  and  that  is  the 
reason  why  he  has  risen  so  high  in  the  estimation  of  the  citi- 
zens, —  alluding  to  a  compliment  Socrates  had  just  paid  him 
"I  should  be  glad  to  know,"  says  Socrates,  "whether  you 
educated  your  wife  yourself,  or  whether  she  was  taught  by 


350  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

her  father  and  mother  to  perform  the  duties  belonging  to  hei 
station."  "  Why,  she  was  only  seventeen  years  old  when  I 
married  her  ;  and  she  had  been  brought  up  in  great  privacy, 
where  she  could  hear,  see,  and  ask  as  little  as  possible.  I 
think  I  ought  to  have  been  content  if  she  knew  how  to  super- 
intend the  weaving,  and  to  distribute  the  tasks  among  her 
handmaids.  One  thing,  however,  she  was  particularly  well 
educated  in,  —  and  that  is  the  most  important  thing  for  man 
or  woman  either, — namely,  temperance."  "Then  you  edu- 
cated your  wife  in  all  other  things  yourself,  so  that  she  be 
came  qualified  to  perform  all  her  duties  ?  "  "  Not,"  replied 
Ischomachus,  earnestly,  "  until  I  had  sacrificed  and  prayed, 
that  I  might  teach  and  she  might  learn  what  would  most 
benefit  both  of  us."  "  Did  your  wife  join  in  the  sacrifice,  and 
offer  the  same  prayers  ? "  "  To  be  sure  she  did,  and  made 
many  promises  to  the  gods  if  she  might  become  what  she 
ought  to  be,  and  showed  plainly  that  she  was  not  going  to 
neglect  her  lessons."  "  In  God's  name,"  said  Socrates,  *'  tell 
me  what  you  taught  her  first:  I  would  rather  hear  it  than 
the  play." 

"  Well,  Socrates,  when  she  began  to  get  a  little  acquainted 
with  me,  so  as  to  converse  easily,  I  said  to  her,  *  Do  you  know, 
wife,  why  it  was  that  I  chose  you,  and  your  parents  gave  you 
to  me,  when  there  were  plenty  of  others  we  might  have  mar- 
ried? The  reason  was,  that  I  was  looking  out  for  the  best 
partner  for  myself,  and  your  parents  for  the  best  one  for  you. 
If  God  give  us  children,  we  will,  when  the  time  comes,  con- 
sider the  best  methods  of  educating  them  to  be  our  dearest 
friends  and  supporters  in  old  age.  Now  this  is  our  common 
dwelling.  All  that  each  of  us  has  brought  is  thrown  into  the 
common  store.  The  question  is  not,  who  has  brought  in  the 
largest  sum,  but  whichever  of  us  proves  the  better  companion 
contributes  the  most.'  She  answered,  '  What  can  I  help  you 
to  do  ?  What  power  have  I  ?  Everything  depends  on  you 
My  mother  taught  me  that  my  duty  was  to  be  virtuous.' 
Certainly,'  said  I,  '  and  my  father  taught  me  the  same.     Bu: 


xenophon's  (economicus.  351 

it  is  the  duty  of  an  honest  man  and  woman  to  make  their  pres- 
ent condition  as  good  as  possible,  and  to  improve  it  by  every 
fair  and  honorable  means.'  '  What  can  I  do,'  said  she,  '  to 
help  improve  our  condition  ?  '  '  What  the  gods  designed  you 
should  do,  and  the  law  approves,  strive  to  do  in  the  best  possi- 
ble manner.'  '  What  is  that  ?  '  said  she.  '  Duties  of  the 
highest  importance,'  I  replied,  '  if  the  work  of  the  queen-bee 
in  a  hive  is  of  great  importance.'  " 

He  then  enters  upon  a  general  consideration  of  the  aim  and 
end  of  the  marriage  relation,  and  the  respective  duties  of  the 
husband  and  wife.  A  large  part  of  the  work  of  life  is  to  be 
carried  on  in  the  open  air ;  but  the  care  of  children,  the  weav- 
ing of  cloth,  and  the  like,  must  be  within  doors.  God  has 
framed  the  constitution  of  man  so  as  to  fit  him  for  business 
abroad,  and  the  nature  of  woman  He  has  adapted  to  the  charge 
of  the  household.  He  has  fitted  the  body  and  mind  of  man  to 
endure  heat  and  cold,  journeys  and  marches,  and  therefore 
has  laid  upon  him  work  out  of  doors.  But  he  has  made  the 
body  of  woman  less  able  to  bear  these  hardships,  and  therefore 
has  assigned  to  her  the  labors  in  the  house.  He  has  inspired 
her  with  a  greater  love  of  children,  and  has  intrusted  their 
care  to  her  rather  than  to  man.  He  has  made  her  more  timid, 
that  she  may  keep  a  watchful  oversight ;  and  him  more 
courageous,  that  he  may  the  better  defend  the  household 
against  the  wrong-doer.  And  as  both  have  to  give  and  to 
receive,  on  both  he  has  bestowed  the  faculties  of  memory  ano 
intelligent  superintendence,  so  that  it  is  impossible  to  say 
which  of  the  sexes  has  the  superiority,  except  that  whichever 
is  the  better  God  has  made  the  superior.  But  as  they  are  not 
equally  fitted  for  both  classes  of  duties,  they  stand  in  need  of 
each  other,  and  union  is  by  far  the  highest  good  of  both.  This 
is  the  view  taken  by  the  law  when  it  weds  the  man  and  woman, 
making  them  alike  sharers  in  all  the  fortunes  of  the  home  ; 
and  the  law  is  in  harmony  with  the  purposes  of  God  in  their 
creation.  For  it  is  more  honorable  to  the  woman  to  remain 
within  than  to  be  out  of  doors  ;  and  for  the  man  it  in  more 


352  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

shameful  to  remain  within,  than  to  attend  to  his  affairs  abroad. 
And  if  a  man  violates  the  natural  law  of  God,  he  cannot 
escape  the  consequences  of  neglecting  his  proper  business,  and 
attending  to  that  of  his  wife.  It  is  therefore  her  business  to 
look  after  the  servants,  assign  them  their  tasks,  receive  what  is 
brought  into  the  house,  and  adjust  the  expenditures,  so  that 
the  provision  of  a  year  may  not  be  used  up  in  a  month.  If  a 
servant  fall  sick,  she  must  take  care  of  him. 

"  '  It  seems  to  me,'  she  replied,  '  that,  after  all,  you  are  the 
head  ;  for  all  my  care  of  the  household  would  be  ludicrous, 
unless  you  provided  the  supplies.'  '  And  all  my  supplies,' 
said  I,  '  would  be  ludicrous,  unless  there  were  some  one  at 

home  to  take  care  of  them There  are  other  duties  which 

become  agreeable,  —  as  when  you  make  an  ignorant  person 
intelligent,  and  so  double  the  value  of  his  labor;  and  when 
you  have  it  in  your  power  to  do  good  to  those  who  are  good 
and  useful  to  the  family ;  and,  what  is  the  most  delightful  of 
all,  when  you  prove  yourself  to  be  better  than  I  am,  and  so 
make  me  your  servant,  having  no  fear  lest,  as  age  advances, 
you  be  held  in  less  honor  in  the  family,  but  assured  that, 
the  older  you  grow,  the  more  you  will  be  honored  in  the  home, 
according  as  you  have  discharged  your  duties  to  me  and  your 
children.'  "  This  is  the  substance  of  the  first  curtain  lecture. 
Socrates  naturally  desires  to  be  informed  what  effect  it  had. 
Nothing  could  be  more  satisfactory. 

The  subject  of  the  next  lecture  is  Order,  the  most  useful 
thing  in  the  world.  It  is  illustrated  by  the  rhythmical  move- 
ments of  the  chorus  ;  of  an  army  on  the  march  or  the  field  of 
battle  ;  of  a  ship  with  its  rowers  and  passengers  ;  all  of  which 
require  the  most  exact  order  for  beauty  or  efficiency.  Dis- 
order, on  the  contrary,  is  like  a  farmer  who  sows  barley,  wheat, 
rye,  and  beans,  all  together,  and  who,  when  he  wants  a  barley- 
cake,  or  wheaten  bread,  or  pulse,  must  needs  be  picking  and 
choosing,  instead  of  taking  directly  what  he  wants.  The  true 
principle  is,  a  place  for  everything,  and  everything  in  its  place  , 
and  the  servant  must  be  taught  whence  to  take  and  where 


XENOPHON'S   (ECONOMICS.  353 

to  put  whatever  is  needed  for  use,  which  he  will  soon  learn. 
This  the  speaker  further  illustrates  by  what  he  once  saw 
on  board  a  Phoenician  merchant- vessel,  where  by  a  careful 
economy  of  space,  and  by  exact  order,  a  great  quantity  of 
rigging  and  warlike  armament  and  a  cargo  of  costly  goods 
were  snugly  stowed  away  in  a  place  not  larger  than  a  dining- 
room,  and  the  officers  of  the  ship  knew  the  pUce  of  each  arti- 
cle as  well  as  he  who  can  spell  knows  the  letters  in  the  name 
of  Socrates.  The  master  remarked,  that  in  a  storm  at  sea 
there  would  be  no  time  for  hunting  after  anything  out  of  the 
way,  for  God  threatens  and  punishes  the  indolent.  "  Now  if 
seamen  can  find  a  place  for  everything,  and  keep  such  exqui- 
site order  in  a  vessel  tossed  about  on  the  waves,  it  were  a 
great  shame  to  us  if,  in  houses  standing  on  the  solid  earth,  we 
should  not  do  the  same.  It  is  pleasant  to  have  a  place  for 
shoes,  for  clothes,  for  bed-clothes,  for  brazen  vessels,  for  table- 
furniture  ;  and  though  an  elegant  gentleman  might  smile  at  the 
assertion,  there  is  something  rhythmical  in  seeing  soup-dishes 
properly  arranged.  The  arrangement  of  furniture  is  like  that 
of  a  circular  chorus ;  not  only  the  chorus  itself  is  a  beautiful 
spectacle,  but  the  clear  space  within  it  is  beautiful.  There  is 
no  difficulty  in  finding  a  person  who  will  learn  the  places,  and 
remember  to  put  each  thing  in  its  proper  place.  If  you  send 
a  servant  out  to  purchase  anything  in  the  market,  he  will 
know  precisely  where  to  go  and  find  it,  because  there  is  a 
particular  place  for  everything ;  but  if  you  look  after  a  man 
you  are  not  so  certain  where  to  go,  because  there  is  no  fixed 
place  to  await  him  in."  This  was  the  second  curtain  lecture. 
"Well,"  says  Socrates,  "  did  she  promise  to  undertake  all 
this  ?  "  "  To  be  sure  she  did,  with  the  greatest  alacrity,  and 
entreated  me  to  set  about  putting  things  in  order  at  once." 

They  then    together    examine    the    arrangements   of  the 

house,  in  which  utility  had  been  studied  more  than  ornament. 

It  was  well  built  for  comfort  both  in  summer  and  winter. 

They  first  collected  all  the  furniture  connected  with  sacrifices ; 

hen  the  ornaments  and  apparel  for  festival  occasions,  armor, 

vol.  I.  23 


364  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

bed-clothes,  women's  shoes  and  men's  shoes,  the  implements 
for  spinning,  cooking  utensils,  bathing-furniture,  towels,  table- 
furniture  ;  then  the  things  that  were  to  be  used  every  day, 
those  reserved  for  company,  and  so  on.  Every  kind  of  fur- 
niture was  put  in  its  proper  place.  Servants  were  properly 
instructed,  and  a  housekeeper  selected,  whose  interest  it  was 
made  to  enforceMhe  regulations  of  the  family.  "  I  taught  my 
wife,"  proceeded  Ischomachus,  "  that  as  it  is  not  enough  in 
well-regulated  states  to  enact  good  laws,  but  guardians  of  the 
laws  must  be  chosen  to  see  that  they  are  duly  executed,  so  the 
wife  ought  to  be  the  executive  officer  in  the  house,  to  see  that 
the  laws  are  enforced,  and,  like  a  queen,  to  distribute  blame 
and  praise  and  honor  as  they  are  deserved.  I  told  her,  too, 
that  she  must  not  take  it  hard  if  I  charged  her  with  more 
duties  in  relation  to  the  property  than  I  should  require  of  a 
servant  to  undertake,  since  it  was  merely  taking  care  of  her 
own."  "  What  did  she  say  to  that  ?  "  "  Why,  that  I  did  not 
understand  her  if  I  thought  the  duty  proposed  were  a  hard 
one,  —  to  take  care  of  her  own  ;  it  would  be  much  harder  if 
I  told  her  to  neglect  it."  "  By  Juno,"  said  Socrates,  "  your 
wife  has  the  sense  of  a  man."  "  I  will  tell  you  something 
better  than  all  this,  as  a  proof  of  her  good  sense  and  magna- 
nimity." "  What  ?  I  would  infinitely  rather  listen  to  the 
virtues  of  a  living  woman,  than  see  the  finest  picture  Zeuxis 
ever  painted." 

"  I  noticed  that  she  was  in  the  habit  of  using  cosmetics, 
that  she  might  seem  fairer  and  ruddier  than  she  was,  and  of 
wearing  high  shoes,  that  she  might  appear  taller  than  she  was 
by  nature.  '  Tell  me,  my  dear,'  said  I,  '  should  you  esteem 
me  more  highly  as  a  sharer  of  your  fortunes,  if  I  told  you  ex- 
actly the  state  of  my  property,  or  if  I  tried  to  deceive  you  by 
exhibiting  false  coin,  and  necklaces  of  gilded  wood,  and  robes 
of  spurious  instead  of  genuine  purple  ?  '  She  replied  instant- 
y,  '  Heaven  forbid !  Were  you  such  a  man,  I  never  could 
love  you  from  my  heart.'  '  Well,  then,  would  you  like  me 
better,  if  I  appeared  before  you  sound  and  healthy,  fair  ana 


XENOPHON'S  (ECONOMICUS.  355 

vigorous,  or  with  painted  cheeks,  and  artificially  colored  eye- 
lids, trying  to  cheat  you  by  offering  you  paint  instead  of 
myself?  '  '  Why,'  said  she,  '  I  like  you  better  than  paint ; 
I  prefer  the  natural  color  of  your  cheeks  to  rouge,  and  I  would 
rather  look  into  your  eyes  sparkling  with  health  than  with  all 
the  cosmetics  in  the  world.'  '  Then  I  would  have  you  to 
know  that  I  am  more  charmed  with  your  native  complexion 
than  with  paint.  These  false  pretences  may  deceive  the 
casual  observer,  but  not  those  who  live  together.  They  are 
exposed  before  the  morning  toilette,  or  by  perspiration,  or  by 
tears,  or  by  the  bath.' '  "What,  in  heaven's  name,  did  she 
answer  ? "  "  Why,  she  said  she  would  not  do  so  any  more, 
and  asked  my  advice  as  to  the  best  means  of  making  herself 
really  beautiful.  I  advised  her  not  to  sit  all  the  time,  like  a 
slave,  but  to  be  up  and  stirring  ;  to  look  after  the  bread-maker  ■ 
to  stand  over  the  housekeeper  as  she  measured  out  the  allow- 
ance ;  to  run  all  over  the  house,  and  see  if  everything  was  in 
its  place  ;  for  this  would  combine  both  duty  and  exercise.  I 
said  that  it  was  a  good  exercise  also  to  mix  and  knead  the 
bread,  to  shake  out  the  clothes,  and  make  the  beds ;  and  that 
thus  she  would  have  a  better  appetite,  and  grow  healthier, 
and  would  in  reality  apDear  handsomer.  And  now,  Socrates, 
my  wife  lives  and  practises  according  to  my  instructions,  and 
as  I  tell  you." 


LECTURE    V. 

HOUSEHOLD  EXPENSES.  —  OCCUPATIONS.  —  FOOD.— FEASTS.  — 

MARKETS. 

Soceates  admitted  that  all  he  had  heard  of  Ischomachus 
and  his  wife  was  very  pleasant,  and  highly  creditable  to  both. 
Perhaps  a  sigh  of  regret  escaped  him,  philosopher  though  he 
was,  when  he  was  reminded,  by  these  details  of  his  friend's 
household,  how  different  a  home  awaited  him  when  he  returned 
from  strolling  about  the  city.  The  image  of  Xanthippe  con- 
trasted painfully  with  the  fair  and  docile  bride  of  Ischomachus^ 
and  we  may  fancy  that  he  felt  a  momentary  doubt  whether, 
after  all,  he  did  the  wisest  thing  in  the  world  when  he  married 
her  for  the  sake  of  the  moral  discipline  of  being  compelled  to 
bear  the  outbreaks  of  her  violent  temper.  At  all  events,  the 
experiment  is  not  one  to  be  recommended,  except  perhaps  to 
philosophers  and  reformers.  The  conversation  between  him 
and  Critobulus  in  the  same  piece  illustrates  his  usual  way  of 
thinking  about  money.  "  I  do  not  need  anything  more  than  1 
have,  0  Critobulus ;  I  think  myself  already  sufficiently  rich ; 
but  you  seem  to  me  poor,  and  by  Jupiter  I  sometimes  pity  you 
very  much."  "  In  Heaven's  name,  Socrates,"  replied  Crito- 
bulus with  a  smile,  "  how  much  do  you  suppose  your  property 
would  bring,  if  sold?  and  how  much  mine  ?  "  "  Why,  I  sup- 
pose, if  I  could  find  a  good  purchaser,  that  all  my  property,  in- 
cluding the  house,  would  easily  bring  about  five  minas ;  yours, 
I  know,  would  bring  more  than  a  hundred  times  as  much." 
"  How  is  it,  then,  that  you  think  you  need  no  more,  and  pity 
me  for  my  poverty?"  "Because  my  property  is  sufficient  for 
n:y  wants ;  but  your  stvle  of  living,  and  the  figure  you  mak*> 


HOUSEHOLD  EXPENSES.  357 

in  the  world,  are  such  that,  if  your  estate  were  three  times  as 
great,  it  would  not  equal  the  demands  upon  it.  You  have  to 
offer  numerous  and  magnificent  sacrifices  ;  you  have  to  re- 
ceive and  entertain  sumptuously  a  great  many  strangers,  and  to 
feast  the  citizens ;  you  have  to  pay  heavy  contributions  towards 
the  public  service,  keeping  horses  and  furnishing  choruses  in 
peace,  and  in  war  bearing  the  expense  of  triremes  and  pay- 
ing war-taxes ;  or,  if  you  fail  to  do  all  this,  they  will  punish  you 
with  as  much  severity  as  if  they  caught  you  stealing  their  own 
money.  Besides,  I  see  that  you  fancy  yourself  rich,  and  you 
are  careless  about  making  money,  and  occupy  your  mind  with 
trivial  subjects,  as  if  you  had  a  right  to  do  so.  Therefore  I 
pity  you,  and  am  afraid  you  will  suffer  some  incurable  evil,  and 
get  involved  in  great  embarrassment.  As  for  me,  I  know  and 
you  know  that,  if  I  need  any  addition  to  my  income,  friends 
stand  ready  to  help  me,  and  a  very  small  sum  would  over- 
whelm me  with  abundance ;  whereas  your  friends,  though 
much  better  able  to  bear  their  own  expenses  than  you  yours, 
are  always  expecting  to  be  benefited  by  you." 

The  property  which  Socrates  declared  to  be  sufficient  for  his 
wants  amounted  to  something  less  than  a  hundred  dollars  of 
our  currency,  from  which,  at  the  rate  of  interest  usual  in 
Athens,  he  might  have  received  an  annual  income  of  twelve 
dollars,  —  a  slender  revenue  to  support  a  wife  and  three  chil- 
dren. His  own  expenses  were  small.  He  wore  no  under 
garment,  and  his  outer  garment  was  always  an  old  one,  both 
in  summer  and  winter.  He  went  barefoot,  having  been 
known  to  possess  but  one  pair  of  shoes  in  all  his  life.  When 
he  was  invited  to  the  drinking  bout  at  Agathon's  house,  in 
honor  of  a  dramatic  victory  gained  by  that  poet,  he  appeared 
in  a  dress  so  much  smarter  than  usual  that  all  his  friends  were 
astonished,  —  as  remarkable  a  transformation  as  Mr.  Samuel 
Weller's  first  appearance  in  the  new  suit  which  Mr.  Pickwick 
gave  him.  He  lived  on  bread  and  water,  except  when  he  was 
invited  out ;  and  the  only  seasoning  he  took  was  a  long  walk 
before  dinner.      But  how  did  his  wife  and  children  live  ?   Per- 


358  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

haps  they  worked ;  perhaps  Xanthippe  had  a  little  property 
of  her  own ;  perhaps  Socrates  had,  as  Demetrius  Phalereus 
asserted,  besides  his  real  estate,  seventy  minae,  or  twelve  hun- 
dred and  sixty  dollars,  lent  on  interest  to  Crito,  which  would 
give  something  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  year  for 
household  expenses.  However  this  may  have  been,  these  three 
men  present  a  not  uninstructive  picture  of  society  ;  —  Socrates, 
reducing  the  wants  of  life  to  the  lowest  amount,  and  maintain- 
ing a  sturdy  independence ;  Ischomachus,  a  wise  and  prudent 
man,  managing  his  property  with  thrift,  living  on  a  liberal  scale 
of  expenditure,  relieving  the  poor,  helping  his  friends,  and  per- 
forming every  public  and  private  duty  with  order,  punctuality, 
and  a  conscientious  regard  to  the  rights  and  interests  of  all 
around  him ;  Critobulus,  a  man  of  high  birth,  hereditary  prop- 
erty, large  and  liberal  tastes,  open-handed  hospitality,  some- 
what ostentatious  in  his  way  of  living,  and,  though  sometimes 
pressed  for  ready  cash,  recklessly  going  on  with  the  profuse 
expenditures  which  his  rank  and  reputation  seemed  to  demand. 
Ischomachus  is  the  mean  between  the  two  extremes,  - —  in  his 
day  doubtless  regarded  as  the  best  citizen  of  the  three ;  be 
loved  by  his  friends ;  adored  by  his  slaves ;  called  a  koXo? 
tcdyaOos,  or  perfect  gentleman,  by  the  citizens ;  looked  up  to 
by  his  amiable  little  wife  as  the  complete  model  of  a  man. 
Yet  we  should  never  have  heard  of  his  name  but  for  Xeno- 
phon,  who  has  made  the  whole  world  wiser  and  better  by  his 
records  of  the  goodness  and  wisdom  of  Socrates. 

The  occupations  of  a  day,  for  an  Athenian  of  the  rank  and 
character  of  Ischomachus,  were  not  disagreeable.  Since  the 
gods  have  connected  happiness  with  the  performance  of  duties, 
and  these  again  require  the  light  of  knowledge,  he  opens  the 
labors  of  the  day  by  a  prayer  for  health,  strength,  and  prosper- 
ity, for  a  good  name  among  the  citizens,  and  success  in  worldly 
affairs.  Having  risen  early  enough  to  find  people  at  home,  he 
eats  a  morsel,  and  then  makes  his  business  visits  in  the  city,  com. 
bining  exercise  and  profit.  'If  no  affairs  detain  him  in  town, 
he  sends  his  horse  out  into  the  country  by  a  servant,  and  walks 


food.  359 

thither  himself;  and  having  inspected  the  work  going  on  at  the 
farm,  he  mounts  his  horse,  and  takes  a  rapid  gallop,  not  mind- 
ing whether  it  is  up  hill  or  down,  leaping  over  ditches  and 
trenches,  just  as  he  would  have  done  in  war.  Then  he  gives 
his  horse  up  to  the  servant,  walks  home  to  a  light  break- 
fast, and  devotes  the  day  to  intercourse  with  friends,  miscella- 
neous business,  visiting  places  of  amusement,  or  discharging 
the  civil  duties  which  belong  to  every  Athenian  citizen,  to  say 
nothing  of  hearing  and  adjusting  the  complaints  of  servants, 
reconciling  differences  among  friends,  endeavoring  to  con- 
vince them  that  it  is  much  better  to  be  friends  than  enemies, 
and  discussing  the  conduct  of  public  men  ;  "  and  sometimes," 
says  he,  "I  am  taken  to  task,  O  Socrates,  and  put  on  my 
trial."  —  "By  whom?  for  this  had  escaped  my  notice."  —  "By 
my  wife."  —  "And  how  do  you  get  on  in  the  defence?"— - 
"  When  it  is  for  my  interest  to  tell  the  truth,  pretty  well ;  but 
when  the  contrary,  O  Socrates,  I  cannot  make  the  worse  ap- 
pear the  better  reason." 

But  let  us  look  a  little  more  closely  into  the  interior  of  this 
establishment.  How  did  the  family  live?  What  was  their 
food  ?  When  and  how  many  times  a  day  did  they  eat  ?  Of 
course,  the  principal  provisions  were  brought  in  from  the  coun- 
try. The  grain  had  been  trodden  out  on  the  threshing-floor, 
in  the  manner  already  described,  and,  after  some  further  prep- 
aration, either  pounded  in  the  mortar,  or  ground  in  hand-mills, 
or,  at  a  later  period,  in  mills  worked  by  mules.  Bread  was 
made  of  many  other  grains  besides  wheat  and  barley,  as  rye, 
millet,  spelt,  rice,  mixed  with  lotus-root,  which  was  used  as  the 
potato  is  sometimes  used  now.  The  variety  of  loaves  and 
cakes  produced  by  the  ancient  bakers  is  exceedingly  puzzling; 
and  the  forms  were  as  curiously  contrived  as  in  any  modern 
bakery.  Some  were  baked  in  ovens  heated  by  wood,  and 
large  enough  for  a  batch  of  prodigious  magnitude ;  others  in 
vessels  set  on  the  coals ;  and  some  kinds,  as  our  corn-cakes, 
before  or  on  the  coals.  i  The  size  varied  from  slender  rolls  to 
loaves  requiring  three  bushels  of  flour.     The  bread  sold  by  the 


360  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

artopolides,  or  bread-women,  in  the  Attic  markets,  enjoyed  a 
reputation  throughout  Greece,  like  that  of  French  bread  at 
the  present  day.  The  principal  vegetables  used  were  lettuce, 
radishes,  turnips,  asparagus,  beans,  peas,  garlic,  and  onions.  A 
great  many  other  articles  were  used  as  vegetable  food,  which  I 
believe  are  seldom  sold  for  that  purpose  now,  such  as  choke- 
weed,  clematis,  and  elm-leaves.  Beef,  mutton,  goat's  flesh,  and 
pork  were  the  most  ordinary  meats.  The  flesh  of  the  ass  was 
sometimes  eaten,  but  rarely,  except  perhaps  when  the  sausage- 
sellers  seasoned  it  so  that  it  passed  for  something  else.  Hares 
were  a  favorite  luxury.  Attic  poultry  was  famous  every- 
where. Thrushes  enjoyed  a  reputation  similar  to  that  of  the 
canvas-back  duck.  There  was  a  good  supply  of  doves,  black- 
birds, becaficos,  starlings,  partridges,  wild  pigeons,  geese,  fran- 
colins,  and  quails,  most  of  which  have  not  lost  the  estimation  in 
which  they  were  held  by  the  ancient  gastronomers.  Fish, 
however,  were  the  objects  of  the  greatest  solicitude,  —  Copaic 
eels,  conger-eels,  soles,  the  tunny,  the  mackerel,  the  young 
shark,  the  mullet,  turbot,  carp,  gudgeon,  anchovy,  halibut,  and 
a  great  many  others  which  cannot  be  identified  with  species 
now  known,  though  mentioned  by  Athenaeus,  and  most  of 
them  described  by  Aristotle  ;  and  among  shell-fish,  snails,  peri- 
winkles, mussels,  oysters,  echini.  A  Spartan,  being  once  in- 
vited to  dine  where  echini  constituted  one  of  the  dishes,  took 
one  upon  his  plate,  and  put  it  into  his  mouth.  The  prickly 
shell  was  somewhat  uncomfortable,  and  he  disdained  to  inquire 
how  to  eat  it.  In  short,  he  found  himself  much  in  the  condi- 
tion of  Davy  Crocket  with  the  olive.  At  last  he  got  angry, 
and,  crushing  the  shell  with  a  mighty  effort  of  his  teeth,  he 
exclaimed,  "  Accursed  beast !  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  now  that 
I  have  cracked  thee  to  pieces ;  but  I  will  never  touch  thee 
again !  "     Archestratus  says :  — 

"  For  mussels  you  must  go  to  jEnos  ;  oysters 
You  '11  find  best  at  Abydos.     Parion 
Rejoices  in  its  urchins ;  but  if  cockles 
Gigantic  and  sweet-tasted  you  would  eat, 


J> 


FOOD.  361 

A  voyage  must  be  made  to  Mitylene, 
Or  the  Ambraeian  Gulf,  where  they  abound, 
With  many  other  dainties.     At  Messene, 
Hard  by  the  narrows,  are  Pelorian  concha, 
Nor  are  those  bad  you  find  near  Ephesus. 
For  Tethyan  oysters  go  to  Chalcedon." 

The  Copaic  eel  —  celebrated  in  Aristophanes  —  is  found  by 
modern  travellers  fully  to  justify  the  classical  eulogies  bestowed 
upon  it,  and  the  eagerness  of  the  old  Acharnian  to  put  an  end 
to  the  Peloponnesian  war,  that  he  might  again  enjoy  its  flavor 
roasted  on  the  coals  and  wrapped  in  beet-leaves.  The  princi- 
pal fruits  were  figs,  apples,  quinces,  peaches,  pears,  citrons, 
plums,  cherries,  mulberries,  blackberries,  filberts,  walnuts,  al- 
monds, olives,  chestnuts,  pistachio-nuts,  dates,  and,  last  and 
best  of  all,  the  noblest  fruit  of  the  earth,  —  the  grape. 

The  two  principal  beverages  of  the  Greeks  were  water  and 
wine.  The  wines  of  Thasos,  Cos,  Myndos,  and  Halicarnassus 
enjoyed  a  high  reputation.  Egyptian  wines  were  not  disliked. 
Nectar  was  made  near  Olympus  in  Lydia,  by  mingling  honey 
and  fragrant  flowers  with  the  juice  of  the  grape.  Not  to  enter 
into  the  particulars  of  this  subject,  we  may  say  that  the  use 
of  wine  as  a  beverage  was  universal  among  the  ancient  nations, 
with  a  few  individual  exceptions.  Demosthenes  was  a  water- 
drinker  ;  but  JEschines  was  so  far  from  agreeing  with  him,  that 
he  made  this  a  ground  of  insult  and  reproach  to  his  antagonist. 
Some  of  the  deepest  thinkers  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  the 
highest  efficiency  of  the  bodily  and  mental  powers  is  to  be  at- 
tained only  by  total  abstinence  from  wine.  "  Old  wine,"  some 
of  the  physicians  said,  "  shatters  the  nerves  and  produces  head- 
ache ;  new  wine  is  the  parent  of  horrible  dreams."  The  doc- 
tors and  wine-dealers  were  at  feud,  considering  each  other  as 
natural  enemies.  The  philosophers,  too,  differed  from  the  doc- 
tors. Plato  and  Socrates  —  though  not  hard  drinkers  —  could 
stand  a  good  deal  upon  occasion.  The  poets,  however,  in  word 
if  not  in  deed,  were  the  vintners'  best  customers.  Musaeus 
thought  that  the  reward  of  virtue  in  the  next  world  would  be 
everlasting  intoxication.    Anacreon  describes  himself  as  making 


162  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

nis  breakfast  on  a  piece  of  cake  and  a  whole  cask  of  wine,  - 
like  Jack  Falstaff's  bit  of  bread  and  monstrous  deal  of  sack. 
Pindar,  who  said,  "  Water  is  the  best,"  meant  it  for  something 
else  besides  drinking,  and  in  another  place  professes  a  liking 
for  old  wine  and  new  songs.  The  comic  poet  Diphilus  ex- 
pressed the  general  feeling  (I  am  sorry  to  believe)  in  verses 
as  flowing  and  glowing  as  Tom  Moore's :  — 

"  O  friend  to  the  wise,  to  the  children  of  song, 
Take  me  with  thee,  thou  wisest  and  sweetest,  along. 
To  the  humble,  the  lowly,  proud  thoughts  dost  thou  bring ; 
For  the  wretch  who  has  thee  is  as  blithe  as  a  king ; 
From  the  brows  of  the  sage,  in  thy  humorous  play, 
Thou  dost  smooth  every  furrow,  every  wrinkle,  away ; 
To  the  weak  thou  giv'st  strength,  to  the  mendicant  gold ; 
And  a  slave  warmed  by  thee  as  a  lion  is  bold." 

The  hero  worshipped  at  the  port  of  Munychia  was  named 
Acratopotes,  or  the  drinker  of  unmixed  wine.  Wine  was  im- 
ported into  Athens  from  nearly  all  the  islands  and  cities  of  the 
Mediterranean.  They  had  Lesbian,  Euboean,  Thasian,  Pram- 
nian,  and  several  kinds  of  Italian  wine.  In  the  island  of  Thera 
they  thickened  wine  with  the  yolk  of  eggs,  making  a  sort  of 
egg-nog.  Ice  and  snow  were  used  to  cool  wine,  just  as  in 
our  times. 

The  ordinary  style  of  Greek  living  was  frugal  and  temper- 
ate. The  usual  number  of  meals  was  three  a  day.  The  break- 
fast (aK.pa.THT pa)  was  taken  immediately  after  rising,  some- 
times while  it  was  yet  dark,  and  consisted  only  of  bread  soaked 
in  wine  ;  but  what  perhaps  should  more  properly  be  called  the 
breakfast  (apiaTov)  was  commonly  eaten  towards  noon,  as  we 
saw  in  the  case  of  Ischomachus,  who  made  his  morning  calls  or 
visited  his  farm,  and  took  a  long  gallop,  before  he  breakfasted. 
This  meal  was  somewhat  more  elaborate,  consisting  of  warm 
food.  The  principal  meal  was  towards  the  close  of  the  day,  and 
was  called  helirvov,  which  corresponded  nearly  to  our  dinner. 
The  common  meals  were  prepared,  under  the  direction  of  the 
mistress  of  the  house,  by  her  slaves,  one  of  whom  was  usually  a 
cook ;  but  at  dinner-parties,  or  symposia,  professed  cooks  were 


FEASTS.  363 

employed.  It  is  supposed  that  generally  the  men  and  women 
in  a  family  took  their  meals  apart ;  but  this  could  not  have 
been  universally  the  case,  since  Menander  introduces  a  young 
dandy  complaining  what  a  bore  it  was  to  be  at  a  family  party, 
where  the  father,  holding  the  goblet  in  his  hand,  first  made  a 
speech,  abounding  with  exhortations,  the  mother  followed,  and 
then  the  grandmother  prated  a  little  ;  then  afterward  stood  up 
her  father,  hoarse  with  age,  and  his  wife,  calling  him  her 
dearest,  while  he  meantime  nodded  to  all  present. 

The  occasions  for  more  formal  entertainments  were  numer- 
ous among  the  wealthier  class.  Public  and  private  sacrifices 
were  at  all  times  celebrated  by  convivial  meetings,  as  were 
birthdays  of  members  of  the  family  and  of  distinguished  indi- 
viduals, living  or  dead;  also  the  leave-taking  of  a  friend,  or  his 
welcome  home  after'  a  long  absence ;  and  after  the  burial  of  a 
person,  a  funeral  feast  was  held  by  the  surviving  relatives  and 
friends.  The  gaining  of  a  victory  or  a  prize  in  a  dramatic 
contest  was  likewise  thus  celebrated.  Entertainments  were 
sometimes  got  up  by  parties,  dividing  the  expense  among  them- 
selves, or  each  bringing  a  share  of  the  provisions,  after  the 
manner  of  modern  picnics ;  and  excursions  into  the  country  or 
to  the  sea-shore,  with  provisions  packed  in  baskets  and  wine 
in  jars,  were  no  uncommon  method  of  passing  a  pleasant  day. 
The  usual  expression  was  <rr\nepov  a/cTaacofiep,  "  Let  us  go  to 
the  shore,''  —  meaning,  Let  us  have  a  good  time  to-day.  Parties 
given  by  individuals  at  their  own  houses  and  at  their  own  ex- 
pense were  the  customary  occasions  of  social  intercourse.  The 
host  would  go  out  to  the  usual  places  of  resort,  —  the  market- 
place or  the  gymnasium, — and,  meeting  his  friends  there,  re- 
quest them  to  visit  him  without  further  ceremony  at  such  or 
such  a  time ;  or,  if  he  intended  to  make  a  more  formal  affair  of 
*,  ne  gave  a  list  of  the  guests  he  proposed  to  invite  to  a  slave, 
whose  business  it  was  to  deliver  the  invitations  in  person.  It 
was  not  the  fashion  to  invite  women  to  these  parties,  at  least  at 
Athens.  The  fashion  appears  to  have  been  different  at  Syba- 
ris;   for  Plutarch  states  that  the  Sybarites  used  to  ask  the 


364  THE   LIFE   OF  GREECE. 

ladies  a  year  beforehand,  that  they  might  have  time  to  dress. 
There  was  some  question  whether  it  was  quite  proper  to  bring 
an  uninvited  guest.  Socrates  takes  Aristodemus  with  him  to 
Agathon's  entertainment,  and  in  the  course  of  the  night  Alci- 
biades,  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  revellers,  breaks  in  with  a 
great  deal  of  noise ;  and  they  are  all  very  politely  received. 
Parasites  and  mountebanks  always  took  the  liberty  of  drop- 
ping in  wherever  they  found  a  feast  was  going  to  be  given, 
which  they  ascertained  by  walking  through  the  fashionable 
streets,  and  snuffing  at  the  kitchens.  These  characters  were 
sometimes  called  flies,  and  sometimes  shades.  There  was  at 
one  period  a  law  at  Athens  limiting  the  number  of  guests  at  a 
marriage-feast  to  thirty ;  and  it  was  the  duty  of  a  particular 
officer  to  enter  the  banqueting-hall  and  count  the  guests.  On 
one  occasion  the  whole  number  had  been  invited ;  but  a  fly, 
scenting  the  savor  of  the  viands,  could  not  resist  the  temptation 
to  try  his  fortune.  He  accordingly  entered,  and  took  his  place 
at  the  foot  of  the  table.  The  officer  came  in,  and  counted  the 
guests,  ending  with  the  fly.  "  Friend,"  said  he,  "  you  must  re- 
tire; I  find  there  is  one  more  than  the  law  allows."  "You 
are  quite  mistaken,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the  fly,  "  as  you  will  find 
if  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  count  again,  —  only  beginning  with 
me"  The  guests  were  expected  to  dress  in  their  best,  and  to 
be  punctual  at  the  appointed  hour ;  tardiness  being  justly  con- 
sidered as  a  piece  of  impoliteness  and  presumption. 

In  all  the  entertainments  described  by  Homer  the  guests 
sit;  but  in  later  times  the  fashion  of  reclining  at  meals  was  uni- 
versally adopted,  except  in  Crete,  where  the  old  fashion  was 
still  retained.  At  ordinary  meals,  the  women  and  children 
sat  erect.  The  guests  occupied  couches,  furnished  with  cush- 
ions, and  ranged  round  the  dining-room ;  two  persons  com- 
monly occupying  a  single  couch,  but  sometimes  three,  four,  or 
even  five.  Before  taking  their  places,  a  slave  removed  the 
shoes  of  the  guests,  and  washed  their  feet  with  wine  and  per- 
fumed essences.  It  would  seem  to  have  been  the  Athenian 
custom  for  the  giver  of  the  entertainment  to  assign  the  place* 


FEASTS.  365 

»§  the  company ;  the  place  of  honor  being  next  his  own,  which 
was  at  the  upper  end.  of  the  room,  or  farthest  from  the  door. 
The  position  they  took  was  so  as  to  let  the  left  arm  rest  on  the 
cushion,  keeping  the  right  arm  free  and  ready  for  action.  The 
head  of  the  second  man  reached  near  the  breast  of  the  first, 
while  the  feet  and  legs  of  the  first  extended  down  behind  the 
Becond.  When  the  guests  were  duly  placed,  the  slaves  brought 
in  water  to  wash  their  hands,  which  Philoxenus,  a  fly,  said  was 
the  best  use  that  could  be  made  of  water.  Generally  a  table 
was  placed  before  each  couch,  and  the  provisions  laid  upon  it ; 
though  some  of  the  dishes  were  carried  round.  They  had  no 
knives  and  forks,  but  helped  themselves  with  their  fingers, 
which,  according  to  the  ancient  saying,  were  made  first ;  but  as 
soups  could  not  be  managed  in  this  way,  necessity,  which  is  the 
mother  of  invention,  led  to  the  manufacture  of  spoons.  It 
was  not  consistent  with  good  manners  to  talk  much  until  the 
substantial  dishes  had  been  duly  honored ;  and  in  order  to 
reach  this  point  with  the  greatest  ease  and  despatch,  the  guests 
sometimes  lay  flat,  like  sportsmen  watching  for  their  prey. 
The  room  was  brilliantly  lighted  with  lamps  and  chandeliers, 
and  the  guests  were  crowned  with  wreaths  or  garlands. 

The  entertainment  commenced  with  sweetmeats,  cakes,  let- 
tuce or  pungent  herbs,  oysters,  and  thrushes.  Then  came  in  a 
dish  of  eels  done  crisp  and  brown,  or  some  other  rare  delicacy 
from  the  fish-market,  such  as  shrimps,  broiled  tunny,  or  mullet. 
Poultry  and  meat,  of  which  pork  and  sausages  were  favorite 
kinds,  calf's  pluck,  pig's  harslet  and  chine,  feet  and  snout,  kid's 
head,  small  hams,  and  so  on,  finished  the  first  course.  The 
second  course  consisted  of  honey,  curdled  cream,  cheese-cakes, 
fresh  and  preserved  fruits,  and  confectionery.  Ices  were  not 
known.  To  dine  well  without  knife  and  fork  was  an  art  re- 
quiring a  great  deal  of  study  and  practice.  The  more  skilful 
gourmands  prepared  themselves  for  the  heat  of  the  battle  by 
playing  with  hot  pokers,  or,  like  Philoxenus,  hardened  their 
fingers  by  dipping  them  in  boiling  water,  and  gargled  their 
mouths  and  throats  with  it,  that  they  might  seize  the  delicate 


o66  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

slices  smoking  hot,  and  swallow  them  without  serious  incon- 
venience ;  and  one  of  them  is  reported  to  have  worn  metallic 
finger-guards.  Such  persons  enjoyed  great  advantages  over 
the  inexperienced,  sweeping  off  the  whole  dish  before  the  more 
verdant  gentlemen  dared  to  put  a  finger  into  the  pie.  There 
was  no  table-cloth  or  napkin.  Crumbs  of  bread  or  dough, 
served  round  for  the  purpose,  were  used  for  wiping  the  hands, 
when  that  process  became  necessary,  as  it  often  did.  At  the 
close  of  the  first  course,  the  tables  were  removed,  and  water, 
with  towels,  was  carried  round  to  wash  the  hands.  Until  this 
period  in  the  feast,  silence  had  been  maintained ;  but  now  wine 
was  brought  in,  of  which  each  guest  just  tasted,  and  libations 
were  made  to  the  good  demon,  accompanied  by  the  singing  of 
a  paean  to  the  music  of  the  flute.  After  this,  wine  mixed  with 
water  was  handed  to  the  guests,  who  drank  the  first  cup  to 
Zevs  'Xwrrjp,  Zeus  the  Preserver. 

Here  closed  the  first  act,  or  the  substantial  part  of  the  din- 
ner ;  and  the  symposium  proper  then  commenced,  or,  to  quote 
the  customary  phrase,  "  they  set  in  to  drink/'  Drinking  wine 
unmixed  was  usually  considered  as  the  mark  of  a  barbarian, 
and  as  extremely  prejudicial  to  mental  and  bodily  health. 
Even  half  and  half  was  thought  to  be  too  strong.  The  com- 
mon proportion  was  three  parts  of  water  to  one  of  wine,  and 
this  was  sometimes  mixed  with  honey  and  spices.  The  drink 
was  prepared  in  a  vessel  called  a  Kparrip,  or  mixer,  and  poured 
into  drinking-cups  of  various  names,  shapes,  and  sizes.  The 
culix  was  a  shallow  cup  with  two  handles ;  the  phiale  had  but 
one  handle  ;  the  rhuton,  or  drinking-horn,  had  this  to  recom- 
mend it,  that  it  was  impossible  to  set  it  down  until  it  was 
emptied.  The  drinking  was  presided  over  by  a  master  of  the 
revels,  called  the  symposiarch,  generally  chosen  by  a  throw  of 
astragals,  or  dice.  He  had  the  entire  control  of  the  entertain- 
ment ;  determined  the  proportion  of  wine  and  water,  how 
much  each  guest  should  drink,  and  the  penalty  to  be  paid  as 
a  forfeit  for  failure  in  any  of  the  duties  of  the  feast ;  and  had 
the  attendants  under  his  exclusive  command.     The  cups  were 


FEASTS  367 

carried  round  to  the  right,  smaller  ones  being  first  used, 
then  larger,  as  the  business  of  the  night  advanced.  At  Aga- 
thon's  entertainment,  Alcibiades  and  Socrates  each  drained  at 
a  single  draught  a  cup  that  held  two  quarts.  At  the  funeral 
feast  given  by  Alexander  the  Great  in  honor  of  Calanus  the 
Brahmin,  a  drinking  bout  was  proposed,  with  a  crown  for  the 
prize  of  the  victor.  Promachus  was  the  happy  mortal  who 
gained  the  wreath  by  swallowing  a  couple  of  gallons ;  but  he 
died  three  days  afterward.  Alexander  himself  was  a  terrible 
toper,  and  died  at  Babylon  in  consequence  of  a  drunken  de- 
bauch ;  the  brilliant  history  of  his  achievements  ending  in  a 
fever  of  intoxication,  and  serving  only  "  to  point  a  moral  or 
adorn  a  tale."  The  amusements  of  the  night  were  by  no 
means  limited  to  drinking.  Conversation,  music,  and  dancing 
added  their  attractions. 

The  two  principal  sources  of  our  information  as  to  these 
matters  are  the  Symposium  of  Xenophon,  a  very  elegant  and 
graceful  work,  and  the  Symposium  of  Plato,  one  of  his  most 
animated  and  characteristic  productions,  - —  both  undoubtedly 
founded  on  real  scenes  in  the  life  of  Athens  in  the  times  of 
their  authors.  Plutarch  also  has  a  work  written  in  imita- 
tion of  these  agreeable  compositions,  but  far  inferior  in  liveli- 
ness and  artistic  effect.  The  Deipnosophistse  of  Athenaeus  is 
very  absurd,  but  invaluable  for  the  information  it  contains  and 
the  extracts  from  earlier  writers  it  has  preserved. 

Female  flute-players  and  danoers  were  almost  indispensable 
accompaniments  to  the  symposium,  having  been  engaged  in 
the  agora,  where  they  stood  waiting  for  employment.  Jug- 
glers were  sometimes  added,  and  all  kinds  of  tumblers  per- 
formed their  tricks  for  the  diversion  of  the  company.  Xeno- 
phon describes  a  female  dancer,  who  would  throw  back  her 
head  until  it  reached  her  heels,  and  then  roll  off  like  a 
hoop.  Then  she  would  take  some  hoops,  and,  while  dancing 
o  the  music  of  the  flute,  throw  them,  one  after  another,  into 
_ie  air,  catching  them  as  they  fell,  until  a  dozen  or  more  were 
flying  at  once  between  her  hands  and  the  ceiling.     Another 


368  THE  LIFE   OF   GEEECE. 

of  her  feats  of  agility  was  to  pitch  herself  head  foremost  into  a 
hoop  of  large  size  set  round  with  upright  swords,  then,  stand- 
ing on  her  head,  to  balance  her  body  over  the  naked  points, 
and,  finally,  with  a  single  spring,  to '  regain  her  footing  outside 
of  the  circle.  Jesters  and  buffoons  excited  the  merriment  of 
the  company  by  their  jokes  and  tricks  ;  but  a  foreign  guest,  on 
one  occasion,  said  that,  though  a  monkey  always  diverted  him, 
he  felt  nothing  but  disgust  at  the  man-monkey.  Toasts  were 
drunk  by  the  guests  to  one  another,  and  in  honor  of  the  absent. 
Young  gentlemen  in  love  pledged  each  his  mistress,  sometimes 
taking  a  glass  for  each  letter  in  her  name  ;  sometimes  drink- 
ing three  glasses  only,  one  for  each  of  the  Graces ;  or,  when 
it  was  desired  to  testify  to  the  lady's  charms  with  especial  em- 
phasis, equalling  the  number  of  goblets  to  that  of  the  Muses. 
The  following  lover's  song,  composed  for  such  an  occasion,  is 
found  in  the  Anthology :  — 

"  Pour  out  ten  cups  of  the  sparkling  wine, 
To  crown  Lycidice's  charms  divine  ; 
One  for  Euphrante,  young  and  fair, 
With  the  sparkling  eye,  and  the  raven  hair. 
Then  I  love  Lycidice  more,  you  say  ? 
By  this  foaming  goblet,  I  say  you  nay. 
More  valued  than  ten  is  Euphrante  to  me; 
For  as  when  the  heavens  unclouded  be, 
And  the  stars  are  crowding  far  and  nigh 
On  the  deep  blue  of  the  midnight  sky, 
The  moon  is  still  brighter  and  lovelier  far 
Than  the  loveliest  planet  or  brightest  star,  — 
So  'mid  the  stars  of  this  earthly  sphere, 
None  are  so  lovely  or  half  so  dear 
As  to  me  is  Euphrante,  young  and  fair, 
With  the  sparkling  eye  and  the  raven  hair." 

Though  devoted  especially  to  Euphi'ante,  he  had  no  objection 
to  a  few  glasses  in  honor  of  another,  —  "all  for  love  and  a 
little  for  the  bottle." 

Pantomimic  and  dramatic  dances  lent  variety  and  interest 
to  the  entertainment.  The  dining-room  was  arranged,  after 
the  drinking  was  over,  as  a  temporary  theatre ;  and  the  piece 


FEASTS.  369 

was  played  in  the  centre,  the  guests  looking  on.  In  Xeno- 
phon's  Symposium  of  Callias,  there  is  a  very  remarkable  de- 
scription of  a  scene  of  this  kind,  representing  the  loves  of 
Ariadne  and  Dionysos.  A  company  of  strolling  players  from 
Syracuse  comes  in,  like  the  players  in  Hamlet.  The  leader 
or  manager  announces  the  piece  :  —  u  Ariadne  enters  the  tha- 
latnos;  afterwards  Dionysos  will  come  in,  and  they  will  play 
together."  The  drama  is  performed  with  great  spirit,  as  if  the 
counterfeit  presentment  of  the  passion  had  been  changed  into 
a  reality. 

Conversation,  jokes,  puns,  and  sportive  trials  of  skill  were  of 
course  among  the  staple  amusements  of  these  occasions.  There 
was  a  club  of  sixty  at  Athens,  in  the  time  of  Demosthenes, 
whose  principal  objecfin  life  was  to  say  good  things ;  and  their 
reputation  rose  so  high  that  Philip  of  Macedon  sent  them  a 
present  of  a  talent,  or  about  a  thousand  dollars,  with  a  request 
that  they  would  furnish  him  a  collection  of  their  jokes  for  his 
private  use.  There  was  one  of  them,  —  an  unfortunate  gentle- 
man from  Metapontum,  —  of  distinguished  fortune  and  family, 
—  who  had  lost  the  power  of  laughing  by  going  down  into  the 
cave  of  Trophonius,  in  Lebadeia,  —  a  cave  supposed  to  be 
haunted  by  sundry  demoniac  spirits.  He  made  a  pilgrimage 
to  Delphi  to  inquire  by  what  means  he  might  cure  himself  of 
this  inexplicable  calamity.  The  Pythoness  replied,  "  Unpleas- 
ant mortal,  thou  inquirest  of  me  concerning  pleasant  laughter. 
The  mother  shall  give  it  thee  at  home ;  honor  her  supremely." 
He  went  home,  expecting  to  have  a  hearty  guffaw  as  soon  as 
he  saw  his  mother.  He  was  disappointed,  and  thought  that  the 
oracle  had  been  quizzing  him ;  but  happening  to  go  to  Delos 
on  some  occasion,  he  walked  about  the  island  full  of  admiration 
at  what  he  beheld,  and  at  length  entered  the  temple  of  Leto, 
the  mother  of  Apollo,  expecting  to  find  her  statue  well  worth 
seeing.  But  when  his  eyes  fell  upon  a  shapeless  bit  of  wood, 
he  burst  into  a  sudden  fit  of  laughter.  Remembering  the 
oracle,  and  cured  of  his  infirmity,  he  worshipped  the  mother 

goddess  with  the  highest  degree  of  veneration. 
vol.  I.  24 


370  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

The  cottabos,  a  Sicilian  game,  by  which  the  inclinations  of 
the  beloved  one  were  supposed  to  be  announced,  was  a  favorite 
sport  at  these  entertainments.  The  trick  consisted  in  throw- 
ing a  glass  of  wine  upon  one  balance  of  a  pair  of  nicely  ad- 
justed scales,  so  as  to  make  it  strike  the  head  of  a  brazen  figure 
placed  below  it,  without  spilling  the  wine.  If  the  experiment 
succeeded,  then  "she  loves,"  if  not,  "  she  does  not."  Other 
games  were  chess,  drafts,  and  dice,  though  these  were  not  all 
nor  exclusively  played  at  the  symposia. 

Another  favorite  amusement  was  the  guessing  of  conun- 
drums. Athenseus  has  preserved  a  considerable  number  of 
these.     One  is  as  follows  :  — 

"  Know'st  thou  the  creature  that  a  tiny  brood 
Within  her  bosom  keeps  securely  mewed  ? 
Though  voiceless  all,  beyond  the  ocean  wide 
To  distant  realms  their  still,  small  voices  glide ; 
Far,  far  away,  whome'er  to  address  they  seek 
Will  understand;  yet  no  one  hears  them  speak." 

Antiphanes  represents  the  poetess  Sappho  as  propounding  this 
griphus.  One  of  the  company  guessed  that  the  creature  was 
the  city,  and  the  tiny  brood  the  orators,  whose  voices,  heard 
beyond  the  sea,  bring  in  bribes  from  Thrace  and  Asia,  while 
the  Demos  sits  down  before  them,  unable  to  hear  or  see  for  their 
uproar  and  quarrelling.  He  is  mistaken;  and  when  he  gives 
up  further  attempts,  Sappho  tells  him,  "  The  creature  is  an 
epistle,  and  the  brood  the  letters  in  it,  which,  though  dumb, 
speak  to  those  afar  off."  The  recitation  of  fine  passages  from 
the  poets  was  occasionally  introduced.  Perhaps  the  most  strik- 
ing amusement  of  this  class  was  the  singing  of  scolia,  so  called, 
because  one  of  the  party  improvised  a  strophe  or  stanza,  and 
then,  on  his  passing  the  lyre  or  myrtle-branch  he  held  in  his 
hand  to  any  other  guest  he  chose,  the  person  receiving  it  was 
obliged  to  improvise  a  stanza  to  match  on  the  same  subject. 
These  compositions,  from  the  irregular  manner  in  which  they 
went  round  the  saloon,  were  called  scolia,  or  crooked  songs. 
It  naturally  happened  that  this  part  of  the  entertainment  fell 


FEASTS.  371 

*o  the  lot  of  the  most  skilful  and  practised  persons  present.  The 
best  known  specimen  of  this  kind  of  performance  is  the  ode 
to  the  tyrannicides  Harmodius  and  Aristogeiton :  — 

"  '  Wreathed  with  myrtle  be  my  glave, 

Wreathed  like  yours,  stout  hearts  !  when  ye 
Death  to  the  usurper  gave, 
And  to  Athens,  liberty. 

"  Dearest  youths  !  ye  are  not  dead, 
But  in  islands  of  the  blest, 
With  Tydean  Diomed, 

With  the  swift  Achilles,  rest.' 

" «  Yes,  with  wreaths  my  sword  I  '11  twine, 
Wreaths  like  yours,  ye  tried  and  true  1 
When  at  chaste  Athene's  shrine 
Ye  the  base  Hipparchus  slew. 

"  Bright  your  deeds  beyond  the  grave ! 
Endless  your  renown  !  for  ye 
Death  to  the  usurper  gave, 
And  to  Athens  liberty.'  " 

The  action  celebrated  in  this  piece  was  as  favorite  a  subject 
of  rhetorical  and  poetical  eulogium  among  the  Athenians,  as 
the  exploit  of  William  Tell  with  modern  sons  of  liberty.  A 
shorter  specimen,  in  choriambic  and  dactylic  measure,  is  pre- 
served, with  a  good  many  others,  by  Athenaaus. 

THE    LYRE    AND    THE    VASE. 

" '  O  that  I  were  the  sweet-tuned  lyre,  of  burnished  ivory  bright, 
Which  beautiful  youths,  in  the  festive  choir,  attune  to  the  Diouysiac  rite ! ' 

"  '  0  that  I  were  the  golden  vase,  so  pure,  and  of  form  so  fair, 
Which  beautiful  dames,  at  the  festive  games,  in  their  arms  to  the  sacred  altar 
bear ! ' " 

From  thirty  to  forty  scolia  have  been  preserved. 

In  the  Symposium  of  AthenaBus,  the  subjects  discussed  would 
.iavc  occupied  at  least  three  months'  hard  talking.  Of  course 
it  represents  nothing  that  ever  took  place  on  this  earth.  The 
Symposium  of  X^uophon  is  beautifully  written,  and  may  well 


372  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

embody  the  substance  of  discussions  that  were  actually  held 
at  a  social  meeting  during  the  celebration  of  the  greater  Pan- 
athensea,  between  such  men  as  Socrates,  Critobulus,  Char- 
mides,  and  others.  The  accessories  of  the  entertainment  are 
lightly  and  gracefully  presented,  and  the  subjects  of  love  and 
friendship  agreeably  handled.  Plato's  Symposium  collects  the 
most  brilliant  wits  in  Athens;  —  first  and  foremost,  Socrates  ; 
Agathon,  the  poet,  who  gives  the  feast ;  Aristodemus  ;  Pausa- 
nias ;  Eryximachus,  a  physician  ;  Phaedrus ;  Aristophanes,  —  in 
all  tAventy-eight.  In  the  midst  of  the  conversation,  a  great  noise 
is  heard  at  the  door ;  and  when  it  opens,  in  rushes  Alcibiades, 
not  so  sober  as  he  should  be,  followed  by  a  band  of  revellers, 
who  fill  the  saloon,  and  take  part  both  in  the  drinking  and  the 
talking.  The  great  topic  of  the  evening  is  Love,  and  the 
guests,  one  after  another,  give  their  opinions  on  the  matter. 
After  midnight,  some  of  them  go  home,  others  fall  asleep ;  and 
Socrates  commences  a  lecture  on  the  art  of  Poetry,  to  which 
Agathon  and  Aristophanes  do  their  best  to  listen,  and  at  last 
fall  dead  asleep.  Socrates  places  them  comfortably  on  their 
couches,  washes  his  face,  marches  off  to  the  Lyceum,  where  he 
talks  all  day  long,  and  finally  reaches  his  own  home  on  the 
following  evening.  The  whole  piece  is  intended,  doubtless,  to 
give  a  vivid  picture  of  one  of  those  celebrated  Attic  nights,  in 
the  first  place,  and  in  the  next,  to  embody  the  whole  Platonic 
theory  of  love,  the  sum  and  substance  of  which  is,  that  affec- 
tion for  objects  and  persons  of  the  visible  creation  should  lead 
us  to  the  love  of  divine  things,  which  shine  with  a  beauty 
incomparably  more  lustrous  than  the  most  exquisite  forms  of 
those  we  love  on  earth.  Love,  therefore,  has  the  closest  con- 
nection with  philosophy  itself,  which  is,  as  it  were,  its  culmi- 
nation ;  for  by  this  alone  the  mind  of  man  is  imbued  with  a 
true  knowledge,  inflamed  by  a  love  of  perfect  and  consum- 
mated virtue,  and,  by  the  contemplation  of  divine  things,  finally 
brought  to  the  enjoyment  of  supreme  happiness  and  blessed 
tranquillity. 

But  to  descend  from  these  Platonic  altitudes  once  more  intc 


FEASTS.  373 

the  terrestrial  purlieus  of  the  kitchen,  that  illustrious  per- 
sonage, the  cook,  ought  not  to  be  neglected.  For  such  an 
entertainment  as  those  described  by  Plato  and  Xenophon,  the 
family  cook  would  be  wholly  insufficient.  Athens  abounded 
in  professed  cooks,  as  we  may  gather  not  only  from  numerous 
allusions  in  the  Platonic  Dialogues,  but  from  the  direct  testi- 
mony of  other  authors.  The  art  was  so  highly  appreciated  in 
that  capital,  that  gentlemen  of  this  profession  from  other  coun- 
tries and  cities  found  there  the  most  brilliant  theatre  for  the 
display  of  their  genius.  The  Sicilians  bore  the  palm  from  all 
others.  Some  of  them  aspired  to  the  fame  of  authorship,  aniw1 
professed  an  acquaintance  with  philosophy,  geometry,  astron- 
omy, painting,  sculpture,  and  medicine.  Astronomy  taught 
what  was  the  best  season  for  mackerel  and  haddock ;  geometry, 
where  a  boiler  or  gridiron  might  be  placed  to  the  greatest  ad- 
vantage ;  and  medicine,  what  dishes  were  wholesome  and  what 
were  not.  Philemon,  the  comic  poet,  thus  introduces  one  of 
these  gentry :  — 

"  How  strong  is  my  desire  fore  earth  and  heaven 
To  tell  how  daintily  I  cooked  his  dinner 
'Gainst  his  return  !   By  all  Athene's  owls, 
*T  is  no  unpleasant  thing  to  hit  the  mark 
On  all  occasions.     What  a  fish  had  I ! 
And  ah  !  how  nicely  fried  !  not  all  bedevilled 
With  cheese,  or  browned  atop,  but,  though  well  done, 
Looking  alive,  in  its  rare  beauty  dressed. 
With  skill  so  exquisite  the  fire  I  tempered, 
It  seemed  a  joke  to  say  that  it  was  cooked. 
And  then,  just  fancy  now  you  see  a  hen 
Gobbling  a  morsel  much  too  big  to  swallow 
With  bill  uplifted  round  and  round  she  runs 
Half  choking ;  while  the  rest  are  at  her  heels, 
Clucking  for  shares.     Just  so  't  was  with  my  soldiers 
The  first  who  touched  the  dish,  up  started  he 
Whirling  round  in  a  circle  like  the  hen, 
Eating  and  running  ;  but  his  jolly  comrades, 
Each  a  fish-worshipper,  soon  joined  the  dance, 
Laughing  and  shouting,  snatching  some  a  bit, 
Some  missing,  till  like  smoke  the  whole  cad  vanished. 


874  THE  LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

Yet  were  they  merely  mud-fed  river  dabs. 

But  had  some  splendid  scar-fish  graced  my  pan, 

Or  Attic  blue-fish,  O  Servator  Zeus  ! 

A  boar  from  Argos,  or  the  conger-eel, 

Which  old  Poseidon  to  Olympus  sends 

To  be  the  food  of  gods,  —  why  then  my  guests 

Had  rivalled  those  above.     I  have  in  fact 

The  power  to  lavish  immortality 

On  whom  I  please,  or,  by  my  potent  art, 

To  raise  the  dead  if  they  but  snuff  my  dishes." 

These  sublime  artists  were  to  be  found  in  the  agora,  where 
they  were  hired,  with  all  their  cooking  apparatus,  as  their  ser- 
vices were  required. 

Among  the  famous  diners-out  commemorated  by  Athenaeus, 
there  was  Charinus  the  Syracusan,  who  had  a  poetical  passage 
apropos  to  every  dish,  and  sometimes,  it  is  said,  suffered  the 
fish  to  cool  while  he  was  showing  off  his  learning.  Callipha- 
nes,  Cleanthes,  and  Pamphilus  kept  portfolios  of  poetical  ex- 
tracts, that  they  might  be  provided  for  every  dinner-table  emer- 
gency. Archestratus  wrote  an  epic  poem  on  good  eating, 
laying  down  the  maxim  that  the  number  at  the  table  should 
never  exceed  four  or  five.  Timachidas  wrote  a  poem  on  the 
same  subject,  in  eleven  books.  Four  or  five  other  authors  are 
mentioned  by  Athenaeus ;  one  of  whom,  Philoxenus,  the  fly, 
already  mentioned,  celebrates  the  merits  of  the  kettle  and  the 
frying-pan.  The  same  man  invented  the  Philoxenian  cakes. 
Another  gourmand  exclaims :  "  Ah,  how  delightful  it  is  to  re- 
fresh my  throat  with  the  crackling  flakes  of  broiled  fish !  " 
Suidas  relates  that  Philoxenus  was  in  the  habit  of  frequenting 
the  neighborhood  of  rich  men's  houses,  accompanied  by  slaves, 
with  wine,  oil,  vinegar,  and  other  seasonings,  and  where  he 
smelt  the  best  dinner,  he  would  go  into  the  kitchen,  season  the 
dishes,  and  then  take  his  place  among  the  guests.  It  was  he 
who  wished  that  Nature  had  given  man  the  neck  of  a  crane, 
that  the  pleasure  of  swallowing  might  be  prolonged.  Pithyl- 
lus  contrived  an  artificial  covering  for  the  tongue,  by  which 
the  flavor  of  a  good  dish  was  retained  for  a  long  time  on  the 
palate. 


MARKETS.  375 

Perhaps  too  much  time  has  been  occupied  by  this  subject,  — 
frivolous,  no  doubt,  in  the  estimation  of  many,  —  but  still  one 
aspect  of  the  life  of  Greece  in  its  best  ages.  I  have  taken 
only  a  few  of  the  prominent  points,  simply  proposing  to  place 
the  outlines  before  you.  But  the  life  of  man  exhibits  every- 
where the  same  great  phenomena,  however  modified  by  tran- 
sient conditions  and  influences. 

The  details  which  have  been  here  brought  together  natu- 
rally lead  us  to  say  something  of  the  Grecian  market.  A 
visit  to  the  market  was  one  of  the  arrangements  of  the  day. 
You  will  remember  that  Dicaearchus  said  the  Athenian  agora 
was  well  supplied  with  all  the  necessaries  and  luxuries  of  life. 
Isocrates  speaks  to  the  same  purport.  Its  locality  was  be- 
tween the  Pnyx  and  the  Acropolis.  It  was  adorned  with 
temples,  galleries,  altars,  and  statues,  and  shaded  by  plane- 
trees,  planted  by  Cimon.  The  time  for  visiting  the  agora  was 
about  the  middle  of  the  forenoon,  when  that  quarter  of  the  city 
exhibited  a  spectacle  not  unlike  high  'Change.  This  time  is 
designated  by  the  words  ayopa  Tr\r\6ov(Ta,  or  full  market,  — 
of  frequent  occurrence  in  the  Greek  writers.  The  breaking  up 
of  the  market  was  about  noon.  The  other  places  of  common 
resort  for  the  more  respectable  of  the  male  gossips  were  the 
barbers'  shops,  the  surgeries,  and  the  shops  of  the  ointment- 
sellers  and  shoemakers.  Thus  Peisthetairos,  in  the  Birds, 
says: — 

"  You  must  have  heard,  yourself,  elderly  people 
Sitting  conversing  in  the  harber's  shop, 
And  one  says  :  '  Well,  Diitrephes  has  talked 
So  much  to  my  young  man,  he  has  brought  him  at  last 
To  plume  himself  on  driving.'     And  another 
Says  that  his  son  is  quite  amongst  the  clouds, 
Grown  nighty  of  late  with  studying  tragedy." 

It  was  in  such  places  that  Socrates  rejoiced  to  hold  forth  to 
anybody  who  liked  to  hear  him ;  and  who  did  not  listen  with 
delight  to  the  resistless  charm  of  his  talk  ? 

All  kinds  of  trade  were  carried  on  in   the  market ;   the 


376  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

native  traders  and  foreigners  equally  paying  a  fee  for  the  priv- 
ilege. Here  advertisements  of  things  found  or  lost  were 
posted  up,  or  proclamation  was  made  by  the  city  crier ;  and 
here  philosophers  and  sophists  gathered  their  hearers  about 
them  to  discourse  on  the  nature  of  things.  The  merchant 
who  imported  and  sold  his  goods  by  wholesale ;  the  retail- 
dealers  ;  the  farmers  from  the  country,  with  the  produce  of 
their  gardens  and  fields,  —  were  here  brought  together.  The 
market  was  divided  into  circles,  for  the  different  kinds  of  mer- 
chandise, —  furniture,  slaves,  meat,  fish.  The  sellers  had 
booths,  hung  with  wicker-work  or  wattles  ;  and  each  place  was 
called  by  the  name  of  the  article  sold  there.  Thus,  to  go  to  the 
fish,  or  to  the  wine,  means  to  go  to  the  fish-market,  to  the  wine- 
market,  &c.  In  one  quarter  stood  the  auction-mart,  where  all 
sorts  of  merchandise  were  disposed  of  to  the  highest  bidder. 
Women,  except  of  the  lowest  class,  never  made  purchases  in 
the  market.  Either  the  master  of  the  house  or  his  slave  —  a 
male  slave  called  ayopao-Tr)?,  the  purchaser  —  attended  to  this 
part  of  domestic  duty.  On  one  side  of  the  agora  stood  cooks 
waiting  to  be  hired,  as  we  have  already  seen.  Crockery  and 
cooking  utensils  were  to  be  found  on  another.  Articles  of 
luxury  and  splendor  had  their  particular  place.  Wine  brought 
to  the  city  in  wains,  as  distinguished  from  the  KaTrrjXeta,  or 
dram-shops,  was  sold  in  open  market.  The  dram-shops,  inns, 
or  taverns  were  not  considered  very  reputable  places  to  be 
seen  in,  though,  of  course,  frequented  by  the  loungers  in 
the  streets.  Their  keepers  were  accused  of  weakening  their 
wines  with  waters  from  the  Ilissus,  besides  using  small  meas- 
ures. Poultry  was  sold  at  tables.  The  name  of  a  noted 
poulterer,  Philocrates,  is  preserved  in  the  Birds  of  Aristoph- 
anes, where  the  birds  set  a  price  on  his  head.  The  use  of 
chaplets  for  sacrificial  ceremonies,  feasts,  and  numerous  othei 
occasions  at  all  seasons  in  the  year,  created  a  large  demand  for 
this  article,  which  was  manufactured  by  women,  who,  with  the 
sellers  of  ribbons  and  of  ready-made  head-dresses,  occupied  a 
place  called  "  the  myrtles."     Salt  fish  was  sold  outside  of  the 


MARKETS.  377 

gates,  although  it  was  so  extensively  used  as  an  article  of  food 
that  the  inventor  of  it  had  a  statue  erected  to  his  memory 
as  a  public  benefactor.  Bread-women  sold  their  loaves  at 
stalls.  This  class  of  dealers  was  notorious  for  vituperative  elo 
quence,  as  the  dealers  in  chaplets  and  the  flute-players  were 
for  their  pleasant  manners  and  ready  wit.  On  one  side  of  tl  e 
agora  were  ranged  the  tables  or  banks  of  the  money-changer> 
—  a  class  of  men  essential  to  the  commercial  enterprises  of  the 
Athenians,  —  who  will  be  mentioned  in  another  place. 

The  most  important  part  of  the  agora  was  the  fish-market. 
Notice  was  given  when  the  sale  commenced  by  ringing  a  bell ; 
and  all  other  quarters  were  deserted,  everybody  rushing  to  the 
spot.  Rich  gourmands  hurried  in  with  their  baskets  and  slaves 
to  get  the  first  choice ;  the  poor  looked  away,  as  one  of  them 
expresses  it,  — 

"  Lest,  if  I  saw  the  fish  they  ask  so  much  for, 
I  should  at  once  to  marble  turn." 

The  fishmongers,  both  male  and  female,  bore  the  same  char- 
acter in  Athens  as  in  London  and  Paris.  Amphis,  the  comic 
poet,  describes  their  surly  manners :  — 

"  Ten  thousand  times  more  easy  't  is  to  gain 
Admission  to  a  haughty  general's  tent, 
And  have  discourse  of  him,  than  in  the  market 
Audience  to  get  of  a  cursed  fishmonger. 
If  you  draw  near  and  say,  '  How  much,  my  friend, 
Costs  this  or  that  1 '  —  no  answer.     Deaf  you  think 
The  rogue  must  be,  or  stupid ;  for  he  heeds  not 
A  syllable  you  say,  but  o'er  his  fish 
Bends  silently  like  Telephus,  (and  with  good  reason ; 
For  his  whole  race  he  knows  are  cut-throats  all). 
Another,  minding  not,  or  else  not  hearing, 
Pulls  by  the  legs  a  polypus.     A  third 
With  saucy  carelessness  replies :  '  Four  oboli,  — 
That 's  just  the  price.     For  this  no  less  than  eight,  — 
Take  it  or  leave  it' " 

And  Alexis  writes :  — 

"  But  when  a  paltry  fish-fag  will  look  big, 
Cast  down  his  eyes  affectedly,  or  bend 


878  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

His  eyebrows  upward  like  a  fall-strained  bow, 

I  burst  with  rage.     Demand  what  price  he  asks 

For,  say  two  mullets ;  and  he  answers  straight, 

«  Ten  oboli ! '     '  Ten  1  that 's  dear ;  will  you  take  eight ! ' 

'  Yes,  if  one  fish  will  serve  you.'     '  Friend,  no  jokes  ; 

I  am  no  subject  for  your  mirth.'     •  Pass  on,  sir ! 

And  buy  elsewhere.'     Now  tell  me,  is  not  this 

Bitterer  than  gall  ?  " 

There  was  a  law  forbidding  'the  fishmongers  to  water  their 
fish  so  as  to  give  them  the  appearance  of  being  fresher  than 
they  were.  Another  regulation  required  them  to  have  but  one 
price.     With  regard  to  the  former  law,  Xenarchus  says :  — 

"  Commend  me  for  invention  to  the  rogue 
Who  sells  fish  in  the  agora.     He  knows, 
In  fact  there  's  no  mistaking,  that  the  law 
Clearly  and  formally  forbids  the  trick 
Of  reconciling  stale  fish  to  the  nose 
By  constant  watering.     But  if  some  poor  wight 
Detect  him  in  the  fact,  forsooth  he  picks 
A  quarrel,  and  provokes  his  man  to  blows. 
He  wheels  meanwhile  about  his  fish,  looks  sharp 
To  catch  the  nick  of  time,  reels,  feigns  a  hurt, 
And  prostrate  falls  just  in  the  right  position. 
A  friend  placed  there  on  purpose  snatches  up 
A  pot  of  water,  sprinkles  a  drop  or  two, 
For  form's  sake,  on  his  face,  but  by  mistake, 
As  you  must  sure  believe,  pours  all  the  rest 
Full  on  the  fish,  so  that  you  almost  might 
Consider  them  fresh  caught." 

I  will  close  this  ancient  and  fish-like  subject  with  a  fish- 
story  from  Strabo.  A  harp-player  had  gathered  a  circle  of 
admiring  listeners  around  himself,  when  suddenly  the  bell  of 
the  fish-market  began  to  ring.  In  an  instant  they  all  deserted 
him,  except  one  man  who  was  deaf.  "  I  thank  you,"  said  the 
musician,  "  for  the  honor  you  have  done  me  in  not  going  like 
the  others  at  the  sound  of  the  bell."  "  What !  "  said  he,  "  did 
you  say  the  bell  had  rung?"  "Yes."  "God  bless  you, 
then,"  said  he,  and  took  to  his  heels. 


L.ECTUKE    VI. 

DRESS.  —ARMOR.  —  ARTISTICAL  DRAPERY.  —  MANUFACTURES 
TRADE,   AND   COMMERCE. 

A  picture  of  the  private  life  of  the  Greeks  would  be  very- 
incomplete,  without  some  account  of  their  style  of  dress.  The 
ancient  draperies  were  doubtless  much  better  suited  to  artistic 
representation  than  the  dresses  in  which  human  beings  have 
disguised  themselves  in  our  own  more  enlightened  days.  The 
body  was  less  constrained  by  the  contrivances  worn  to  shield 
it  from  the  rigors  of  an  inclement  sky,  than  it  is  by  the  walk- 
ing fetters  and  jails  in  which  modern  tailors  bind  and  shut 
us  up.  Small-clothes  and  knee-buckles  have  some  venerable 
associations ;  cocked  hats  remind  us  of  our  grandfathers ;  long 
waistcoats,  with  deep  pockets,  excite  a  profound  respect;  silk 
stockings,  with  silver-buckled  shoes,  have  an  aristocratic  sound ; 
but  can  anything  be  more  absurd,  if  looked  at  in  an  economi- 
cal or  aesthetic  point  of  view,  than  each  and  all  of  these  instru- 
ments of  torture?  The  present  costume  is  even  less  pictu- 
resque. Boots,  trousers,  waistcoat,  coat,  and  at, — lay  them  out 
or  hang  them  up  together,  and  what  logical  connection  would 
Aristotle  himself  have  imagined  to  exist  between  them  and 
man,  that  paragon  of  animals  ?  Yet  the  personality  of  man  is 
so  closely  identified  with  these  monstrous  .productions  of  the 
nightmare  of  dyspeptic  tailors,  that  probably  no  human  being 
would  be  recognized  by  his  next-door  neighbor  in  his  simply 
draped  humanity.  The  female  costumes  have  always  been 
more  tasteful,  owing  to  the  instinctive  loyalty  to  the  spirit  of 
beauty  which  is  the  characteristic  of  the  sex ;  and  why  any 
one  of  them  should  so  far  forget  the  innate  gracefulness  of  her 


380  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

being  as  to  cherish  a  morbid  desire  to  step  into  the  shoes  and 
so  on  of  the  more  tasteless  sex,  is  to  me  one  of  the  most  inex- 
plicable mysteries  of  the  times.  If  it  depended  upon  my  vote, 
the  exchange  should  very  readily  be  made.  The  modern  hat, 
a  piece  of  funnel  with  a  top  and  border,  is  modelled  prob- 
ably from  "  Luke's  iron  crown,"  selected  by  the  poet  as  an 
illustration  of  the  wanton  excesses  of  tyranny.  Shoes  and 
ooots  are  so  contrived  as  to  mutilate  the  fair  proportions  of  the 
foot,  pinching  the  toes,  —  which  in  their  natural  condition  are 
ornaments  to  Jiuman  nature,  in  cases  of  emergency  capable  of 
supplying  the  place  of  hands  and  fingers,  —  into  the  most  piti- 
able deformity  and  imbecility.  To  be  set  in  the  stocks  was 
once  a  disgraceful  punishment ;  yet  what  are  boots  and  shoes 
but  stocks,  with  this  great  disadvantage,  that  they  go  with  us 
wherever  we  go,  turning  our  feet  into  bunches  of  corns,  and 
making  the  services  of  the  chiropodist  of  more  imminent  neces- 
sity than  those  of  the  surgeon  in  the  economy  of  life  ?  The 
Greeks  had  a  great  variety  of  sandals,  shoes,  and  boots ;  but  to 
go  barefoot  never  offended  the  usages  of  society,  except  on 
festive  or  state  occasions ;  and  any  one  who  remembers  with 
what  delight  he  felt  the  first  touch  of  the  soil,  in  spring  or  early 
summer,  when  the  time  came  for  throwing  off  his  shoes  and 
stockings,  will  agree  with  me  in  thinking  that  the  Hellenic 
usage  in  this  respect  was  more  natural  and  agreeable  than  our 
own.  Of  all  the  enjoyments  of  childhood  and  youth  in  the 
country  in  former  times,  that  of  the  soft,  fresh  feeling  of  the 
genial  earth,  pressed  by  the  unshod  sole  of  the  foot,  is  undoubt- 
edly one  of  the  most  delicious,  —  a  pleasure,  I  fear,  now  fast 
vanishing  from  the  face  of  our  planet.  Though  the  Greeks 
had  various  coverings  for  the  head,  it  was  also  perfectly  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  customs  of  polite  society  to  go  bai'eheaded. 
They  had  no  fear  of  uplifting  the  noble  throne  of  the  intellect 
into  the  clear  air,  and  allowing  the  breezes  of  heaven  to  play 
freely  around  it ;  and  here  they  showed  their  instinctive  saga- 
city. But  to  pass  from  the  painful  contrasts  which  these  com- 
parisons suggest,  let  us  spend  a  few  moments  upon  the  detail? 
of  the  Grecian  dress. 


DRESS.  381 

There  was  one  striking  difference  between  the  dresses  of  most 
of  the  other  known  nations  of  the  ancient  world  and  those  of  the 
Greeks  and  Romans.  Trousers,  or  pantaloons,  were  worn  by 
the  Oriental  nations,  —  Medes,  Persians,  Assyrians,  Parthians, 
— and  by  the  principal  Western  nations  of  Europe  known  to  the 
ancients,  especially  the  Dacians  and  Gauls.  The  first  women 
who  are  known  to  have  assumed  this  dress  were  the  Amazons ; 
but  even  these  ladies,  unlike  their  successors,  the  Bloomers, 
modestly  limited  the  time  of  imprisonment  in  such  masculine 
habiliments  to  the  period  of  warlike  expeditions,  after  which 
they  resumed  the  customary  and  graceful  attire  of  their  sex, 
laying  aside  the  garb  of  manhood  with  the  helmet,  shield,  and 
spear.  These  garments  were  made  of  skins,  or  richly  wrought 
cloth,  sometimes  fitting  tightly  to  the  limbs,  like  those  in 
use  here,  and  sometimes  loose  and  hanging  in  folds  over  the 
shoes,  like  the  Turkish  trousers.  The  Greeks  never  wore 
them  at  all ;  nor  did  the  Romans  until  the  time  of  the  Em- 
perors, who  attempted  to  introduce  breeches  among  their  sub- 
jects, as  a  means  of  making  them  forget  their  ancient  liberties. 
The  Greek  style  of  dress  was  not,  however,  precisely  the  same 
as  the  Roman,  though  there  was  a  general  resemblance.  The 
himation  of  the  Greeks  and  the  toga  of  the  Romans  were  dif- 
ferent in  shape,  and  differently  worn,  though  as  an  outer  gar- 
ment they  answered  the  same  purpose.  The  materials  used 
by  the  Greeks  were  furnished  partly  by  domestic  manufacture, 
and  partly  by  commercial  exchange.  They  were  fabrics  of 
woollen,  cotton,  linen,  and,  in  the  later  times,  silk.  The  woollen 
was  frequently  spun  and  woven  by  the  women  of  the  house- 
hold, though  there  were  also  large  establishments  where  this 
as  well  as  the  other  tissues  was  manufactured  to  supply  the 
market.  The  Dorians  differed  somewhat  from  the  other 
Greeks  in  their  notions  of  propriety.  At  Sparta,  the  women 
appeared  in  the  public  games  and  dances  in  a  style  of  undress 
or  half-dress,  which  shocked  the  refinement  of  Athenian  society. 
At  Athens,  a  much  more  becoming  style  prevailed,  except  per- 
haps among  the  artistes  who  danced  for  hire  at  the  private 


382  THE  LIFE   OF  GREECE. 

and  public  entertainments,  at  which,  be  it  remembered,  modest 
women  were  never  present.  The  essential  parts  of  the  Grecian 
dress  remained,  with  some  changes  in  form,  fashion,  and  make, 
nearly  the  same  from  Homer  down  to  the  latest  times.  When 
Agamemnon's  morning  slumbers  are  broken  by  the  deceptive 
dream  from  Zeus,  he  first  sits  up  in  bed,  rubs  his  eyes,  and 
then  proceeds  to  dress,  much  as  Alcibiades  or  Pericles  would 
have  performed  the  same  operation  seven  or  eight  hundred 
years  later.  First  he  put  on  his  soft  chiton;  next  he  threw 
over  it  the  ample  pharos ;  under  his  shining  feet  he  bound  his 
beautiful  sandals ;  and  over  his  shoulders  he  slung  his  silver- 
hilted  sword. 

The  articles  of  a  Grecian  wardrobe  may  be  classed  under  two 
heads; — first,  those  drawn  on,  or  got  into;  and  second,  those 
thrown  over  the  person :  the  former  called  by  the  general  term 
evBvfiara  (endymata),  and  the  latter  eiri^Xri/jLaTa  (epible- 
mata).  The  principal  garment  of  the  first  class  was  the  yiTtav 
{chiton),  which  was  worn  next  the  body,  like  a  flannel  un- 
der-waistcoat.  In  early  times,  it  was  large  and  long,  reaching 
to  the  feet ;  but  later  it  was  of  varying  length,  extending  some- 
times to  the  knees  and  sometimes  to  the  feet.  Sometimes  it 
was  made  with  two  sleeves,  closed,  either  by  the  needle,  or 
by  clasps  or  hooks  placed  at  intervals  down  the  arm  ;  but  fre- 
quently there  was  only  one  sleeve,  or  arm-hole,  the  garment 
being  secured  by  a  broach  or  pin  over  the  other  shoulder ;  and 
in  some  of  the  works  of  art  it  is  fastened  by  broaches  over  both 
shoulders.  The  one-sleeved  kind  was  called  the  efw/xt?  (exomis), 
and  was  less  elaborately  made,  being  worn  by  laboring  people. 
Whether  any  garment  was  at  any  time  worn  under  this  among 
the  Greeks  is  doubtful.  The  principal  outer  garment  of  the 
class  of  eirifiXrifiaTa  was  the  himation.  This  was  a  square  piece 
of  cloth,  of  a  more  or  less  costly  fabric,  according  to  the  circum- 
stances of  the  wearer.  It  was  thrown  over  the  left  shoulder, 
drawn  across  the  back  to  the  right  side,  generally  below  the 
right  arm,  but  sometimes  over  it,  and  again  over  the  right  shoul- 
der or  arm.    There  were  many  styles  of  wearing  this  garment, 


DRESS  383 

and  the  gentility  of  the  personal  appearance  depended  much 
on  the  adroitness  with  which  it  was  managed.  It  usually 
reached  to  the  knee,  but  the  Spartan  tribon  was  much  shorter. 
In  the  time  of  simple  and  hardy  manners,  the  boys  com- 
monly wore  only  the  chiton.  The  young  men,  from  the  age 
of  seventeen  to  twenty,  called  ecfyrjfioi  (ephebi),  instead  of  the 
Mmation,  wore  a  garment  of  a  somewhat  different  shape,  the 
chlamys,  differing  principally  in  being  oblong,  —  the  length 
about  twice  the  breadth, — gores  being  added  at  the  sides. 
This  garment  was  also  the  military  cloak,  since  it  was  more 
convenient  for  journeys,  especially  for  riding  on  horseback. 
The  shorter  side  was  passed  round  the  neck,  and  fastened  by  a 
broach ;  then  it  hung  down  the  back  and  reached  the  heels. 
That  worn  by  the  youths  was  saffron-colored.  Sometimes  it 
was  hung  over  the  left  shoulder,  so  as  to- cover  one  side  of  the 
body ;  or  it  was  passed  across  the  back,  and  over  one  or  both 
arms,  like  a  lady's  shawl.  There  was  indeed  an  infinite  diver- 
sity in  its  adjustment. 

The  dress  of  the  women  consisted  of  the  same  principal  ele- 
ments, but  greatly  diversified  in  form  and  in  the  manner  of 
wearing.  A  belt  or  zone  was  clasped  about  the  waist,  and 
sometimes  a  second  confined  the  dress  below.  They  had,  too, 
a  number  of  additional  contrivances,  and  one  or  two  garments 
seldom  worn  by  the  other  sex.  Julius  Pollux  describes  first 
the  epomis  or  diploidion,  —  an  outer  garment  with  sleeves  fall- 
ing down  to  the  feet,  and  often  made  so  long  as  to  fold  over  at 
the  top,  and  hang  down  over  the  breast  and  the  back.  Some- 
times this  garment  was  so  nearly  the  same  for  both  sexes,  that 
husband  and  wife  could  wear  it  with  equal  convenience.  Xan- 
thippe is  said  to  have  steadily  refused  to  wear  her  husband's. 
The  most  distinguishing  article  of  female  apparel  was  called 
the  fcpoic<oTo<i  (crocotos),  a  saffron-colored  under-garment,  and 
even  this  on  state  occasions  was  worn  by  the  men.  Peplos  is  a 
general  term  for  almost  any  kind  of  garment  or  cloak.  Capes 
and  tippets  formed  a  part  of  the  lady's  wardrobe  ;  and  various 
mantles,  purple  or  embroidered  with  gold,  floated  about  her  per 


384  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

don  as  she  walked.  The  Athenian  women  appear  not  only  to- 
have  resorted  to  cosmetics,  as  we  saw  in  the  sketch  of  the  wife 
of  Ischomachus,  but  they  had  many  ingenious  contrivances  for 
the  improvement  of  the  figure.  Corsets  and  tight-lacing  were 
frequently  employed.  If  a  damsel  was  too  short,  she  had  cork 
put  into  the  soles  of  her  shoes ;  if  too  tall,  she  wore  thin  soles, 
and  dropped  her  head  on  her  shoulder.  If  her  figure  was 
too  thin,  the  defect  was  removed  by  padding;  so  that,  says 
Alexis,  the  comic  poet,  the  beholders  would  cry  out  at  the 
beauty  of  her  form.  Red  eyebrows,  according  to  the  same 
authority,  were  blackened ;  a  dark  complexion  was  whitened ; 
one  too  pale  was  rouged ;  and  any  peculiar  beauty  of  the  person 
was  carefully  displayed.  She  who  had  white  teeth  must  needs 
laugh,  that  the  passer-by  might  see  what  a  handsome  mouth 
she  had,  and  so  on.  But  I  do  not  think  it  would  be  fair  to  dis- 
close any  more  secrets  of  the  toilette  ;  though,  as  these  ladies, 
if  living  now,  would  be  twenty-three  or  four  centuries  old,  per- 
haps no  great  harm  would  be  done  to  their  prospects. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  these  dresses  were  always 
simple,  and  of  a  single  color.  The  women  naturally  dressed, 
as  a  general  rule,  in  gayer  tints  than  the  men ;  but  white, 
yellow,  purple,  gray,  brown,  olive,  green,  azure,  and  change- 
able were  worn  by  both  sexes ;  only  it  was  considered  essen- 
tial to  good  taste  to  avoid  very  staring  colors.  The  under- 
garment, in  times  of  mourning,  was  sometimes  black.  On 
great  occasions,  such  as  festivals  and  religious  processions,  a 
richer  splendor  of  dress  was  of  course  exhibited  than  in  daily 
life  ;  and  there  were  some  kinds  of  garments,  as  the  xystis, 
or  purple  robe,  never  worn  except  on  these  occasions.  The 
white  mantle  was  the  dress  for  many  festival  occasions,  long 
after  the  dyer's  art  had  given  a  variety  of  colors  to  the  ordi- 
nary costume.  It  is,  of  course,  understood  that  slaves  and 
laborers  in  the  country  wore  dresses  different  from  those 
which  have  been  described,  and  such  as  were  convenient  for 
their  several   occupations. 

Generally  speaking,  the  head  and  feet  were  covered  only 


DRESS.  385 

out  of  doors.  The  common  term  for  the  dress  of  the  foot  was 
inro&Tjjia  (hypodema),  meaning  something  bound  under;  but 
there  was  a  great  variety  in  form  and  fashion  from  the  simple 
sandal  up  to  the  high  boot.  The  sandal  was  secured  to  the  sole 
of  the  foot  by  a  leather  thong  passing  between  the  great  and 
the  second  toe,  and  attached  to  another  across  the  instep,  that 
again  connecting  with  a  strap  that  passed  round  the  back  of 
the  heel.  These  straps  were  sometimes  so  multiplied,  and  so 
closely  crossed  each  other,  that  they  nearly  covered  the  foot. 
The  half-shoe  covered  the  fore  part  of  the  foot.  Gradually  the 
whole  foot  was  covered  by  the  upper  leather,  and  ornamented 
with  bows  and  buckles.  Persian  shoes,  of  red  morocco, 
were  fashionable  at  Athens  in  the  time  of  Aristophanes ;  and 
Lacedaemonian  shoes  were  considered  in  good  taste.  Boots, 
open  and  laced  in  front,  were  worn  chiefly  in  hunting.  A 
species  of  sock  or  stocking  made  of  felt  appears  to  have  been 
sometimes  worn.  The  soles  of  the  shoes,  when  thick  and  high, 
had  the  middle  layer  of  cork ;  and  sometimes  men's  shoes  were 
studded  with  nails,  though  this  was  considered  a  mark  of  rus- 
ticity. A  good  fit  was  thought  as  important  in  the  Athenian 
circles  as  it  is  now.  Even  Socrates  put  on  an  elegant  pair  of 
shoes  when  he  went  to  that  famous  supper  at  Agathon's  house. 
Many  colors  were  admissible,  —  white,  red,  brown,  and  black. 
Gloves  were  not  used,  except  in  certain  kinds  of  work. 

The  wedding-dress  for  the  gentleman  consisted  of  a  chiton 
of  Milesian  wool,  a  white  himation,  half-shoes  with  crimson 
thongs  and  clasps  of  gold,  and  a  chaplet  of  myrtle-branches 
and  violets.  The  bride  wore  embroidered  sandals,  adorned 
with  emeralds,  rubies,  and  pearls,  with  white  thongs,  a  neck- 
lace of  gold  richly  set  with  precious  stones,  armlets,  and 
pearl  ear-drops ;  her  hair,  fragrant  with  the  richest  perfumes 
of  the  East,  was  restrained  by  a  fillet  or  coronet  and  a  chaplet 
of  flowers ;  and  her  fingers,  ungloved,  were  resplendent  with 
jewels  and  rings.  Over  her  simple  but  magnificent  costume, 
brilliant  in  colors  and  costly  in  ornaments,  floated  the  silvery 
tissue  of  the  nuptial  veil,  like  a  cloud. 

vol.  i.  25 


386  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

In  Homer,  the  Achaians  are  designated  as  Kapi)Konocovre<:> 
or  long-haired.  At  all  times  the  hair  was  especially  culti- 
vated by  the  Greeks.  Brasidas  said,  "  The  hair  makes  the 
handsome  handsomer,  and  the  ugly  more  terrible."  Hero- 
dotus relates  that  the  spy  of  Xerxes  found  the  Spartans  comb- 
ing their  heads  just  before  the  battle  of  Thermopylae.  At 
Athens,  the  youth  reaching  the  age  of  an  ephebus  (seven- 
teen) cut  off  his  hair,  and  consecrated  it  to  some  deity ;  but  in 
manhood  the  hair  was  worn  longer,  and  the  fashion  in  which 
it  was  worn  was  a  point  of  as  great  consequence  as  any  other 
part  of  what  Mr.  Hamilton  calls  the  personal  scenery  of  a  gen- 
tleman. The  barbers  in  Athens  were  numerous;  and  hair-cut- 
ting, as  well  as  paring  the  nails  and  removing  warts  and  frec- 
kles, was  attended  to  in  their  shops.  Persons  dissatisfied  with 
the  natural  color  of  the  hair  found  here  the  means  of  correct- 
ing the  mistakes  of  Nature ;  ointment,  perfumes,  oils,  essences, 
were  recommended  by  the  professional  gentlemen,  and  were 
often  used  by  those  whose  minds  were  exercised  on  such  sub- 
jects. The  first  appearance  of  gray  hairs  was  frequently  a 
warning  to  call  in  the  art  of  the  hair-dresser.  The  beard  and 
mustache  were  usually  allowed  to  grow,  though  not  univer- 
sally. It  was  considered  rather  effeminate  to  have  them  taken 
off.  In  short,  shaving  was  a  little  disreputable.  Alexander 
ordered  his  soldiers  to  be  shaved,  because  the  beard  presented 
the  most  convenient  handle  for  the  enemy  in  battle.  The  suc- 
cessors of  Alexander  shaved,  and  so  the  poets  of  that  period  — 
Menander,  for  example  —  appear  to  have  done.  The  care  of 
the  beard  and  mustache  cost  a  good  deal  of  time  and  thought, 
except  among  the  sophists,  who  rather  affected  to  leave  it 
untrimmed,  to  designate  their  contempt  of  sublunary  affairs. 
Some  of  the  philosophers,  however,  such  as  Aristotle,  and  the 
physicians  generally,  are  represented  as  shaved. 

Alciphron,  to  whom  I  shall  have  occasion  to  refer  on  an- 
other occasion,  says  in  one  of  his  pleasant  epistles :  "  You 
saw  what  a  trick  the  cursed  barber  near  the  street  playec. 
on  me,  that  prating,  gossiping  fellow,  who  sells  the  looking 


DRESS.  387 

glasses  of  Abrotesion,  —  the  fellow  that  tames  crows  and 
ravens,  and  plays  cymbal-tunes  with  his  razors.  When  I 
went  to  get  my  chin  shaved,  he  received  me  with  great 
politeness,  perched  me  up  in  a  high  chair,  put  on  me  a  new 
napkin,  and  brought  the  razor  down  softly  over  my  jaws, 
thinning  off  the  beard.  But  in  this  he  proved  a  villain  and  a 
reprobate ;  for,  without  my  noticing  it,  he  did  his  work  only  in 
part,  and  not  over  the  whole  jaw,  so  that  it  was  left  in  many 
places  rough,  in  others  smooth.  As  I  knew  nothing  about  his 
villany,  I  went,  according  to  my  custom,  uninvited  to  Pasion's, 
and  the  guests,  as  soon  as  they  saw  me,  died  with  laughter, 
until  one  of  them  came  forward,  and,  taking  hold  of  the  remain- 
ing beard,  gave  it  a  twitch.  I  tweaked  it  out  with  a  deal 
of  trouble  and  suffering.  I  should  like  to  take  a  billet  of 
wood  and  break  the  rascal's  head."  The  writer  of  this  epistle 
means  to  intimate  that  he  did  not  look  into  the  mirror  after 
he  had  got  shaved,  which  is  the  height  of  improbability ;  since 
large  mirrors  were  usually  ranged  round  the  walls  of  the  bar- 
bers' shops,  in  all  directions.  These  same  shops  also  fur- 
nished wigs  of  any  size  or  color  to  gentlemen  standing  in  need 
of  them.  Scented  lard,  and  various  other  pomatums,  were 
sold  there.  Young  gentlemen  resorted  thither  to  get  their  hair 
curled,  for  which  curling-irons  were  constantly  heating.  Other 
articles  used  for  the  hair  were  bear's  grease,  onion-juice,  olive- 
oil,  the  gluten  of  snails,  bruised  cabbage-leaves,  burnt  frogs, 
walnuts,  and  pitch.  It  was  thought  that  wearing  a  hat  or 
bonnet  tended  to  make  the  hair  turn  gray,  so  that  such  cover- 
ings were  avoided  as  much  as  possible.  Many  of  the  works  of 
art  represent  the  hair  of  men,  as  well  as  of  women,  curled  and 
hanging  down  in  parallel  ringlets.  In  some,  indeed,  it  is  drawn 
up  and  bound  in  a  large  bunch  on  the  top  of  the  head ;  but  in 
many  it  is  left  long  and  luxuriant,  without  any  restraint.  The 
women  had  a  variety  of  nettings,  caps,  and  coiffures,  from  very 
remote  antiquity.  There  was  the  sling-shaped  band,  the  broad 
part  passing  over  the  forehead,  and  the  narrow  part  round  the 
sides  of  the  head ;  tnere  were  hair-nets  made  of  golden  threads. 


388  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

or  silk,  or  byssus ;  there  were  sacks,  —  either  covering  the 
whole  head,  or  leaving  the  front  bare,  —  open  behind,  so  that 
a  kind  of  queue  might  hang  out ;  and  so  on. 

Umbrellas  and  sunshades,  almost  exactly  of  the  modern 
shape,  appear  in  the  works  of  art. 

It  was  the  fashion  to  carry  a  cane,  both  in  Athens  and  in 
Sparta.  This  was  a  sort  of  reminiscence  of  the  spear,  borne 
universally  by  the  heroes  in  the  Homeric  age.  Young  gentle- 
men, who  whisk  a  slender  stick  as  they  walk  through  the  street, 
seldom  remember  the  martial  origin  of  so  innocent  an  imple- 
ment in  their  white-gloved  hands. 

The  men  sometimes  wore  hats  or  caps,  especially  in  certain 
trades  and  on  journeys.  The  petasus  was  a  broad-brimmed  hat, 
varying  in  fashion  as  to  the  brim,  but  always  with  an  arched 
crown.  The  causia  had  a  higher  crown,  flat  on  the  top,  also 
with  a  broad  brim.  Boatmen  wore  caps  fitting  closely  to  the 
head,  and  without  a  brim,  usually  red.  The  petasus  was 
sometimes  white,  with  a  red  brim ;  but  the  purple  causia  was 
the  more  stylish. 

Rings  on  the  fingers  came  earlier  into  use  among  the  men 
than  among  the  women,  for  the  reason  doubtless  that  they 
were  employed  for  seals.  Ear-drops,  however,  and  rings  and 
chains  about  the  arms,  neck,  hands,  and  feet,  were  the  pe- 
culiar ornaments  of  the  better  sex.  These  were  all  included 
under  the  name  of  yjpvaia  (chrysia),  as  golden  ornaments. 

Coan  and  Amorginian  tissues  were  famous  for  their  gauze- 
like and  transparent  fineness  of  texture,  and  were  used  to 
enhance  the  effect  of  female  costume,  as  well  as  for  other 
nore  objectionable  purposes.  In  Ionia,  the  extravagance  of 
dress  appears  to  have  been  carried  to  its  height.  In  Athens,- 
luxury  went  very  far  in  this  matter ;  but  generally  speaking, 
the  fashions  were  restrained,  among  respectable  men  and 
women,  within  the  limits  of  good  taste.  The  profligate,  there 
as  elsewhere,  outraged  modesty  by  their  style  of  dress  no  less 
than  by  their  vices. 

Crowns  and  wreaths  were  much  used  by  the  Greeks ;  anc1 


ARMOR.  1589 

particular  species  were  consecrated  to  certain  deities,  —  as  that 
of  oak-leaves  to  Zeus,  that  of  laurel-leaves  to  Apollo,  of  wheat- 
ears  to  Demeter,  of  myrtle  to  Aphrodite.  Wreaths  were  the 
prizes  of  the  victors  in  the  games,  —  wild  olive  in  the  Olym- 
pian, laurel  in  the  Pythian,  parsley  in  the  Nemean,  and  pine 
in  the  Isthmian.  The  diadem  was  the  emblem  of  royalty ;  a 
wreath  of  olive-branches  was  worn  on  occasion  of  the  birth  of 
a  son,  a  flower-garland  at  weddings  and  feasts ;  and  golden  or 
gilded  crowns  were  conferred  on  public  men  for  signal  services 
to  the  state. 

This  may  be  as  suitable  a  place  as  any  to  mention  the  prin- 
cipal pieces  of  armor  used  in  war,  since  the  hardships  and  dan- 
gers of  military  life  naturally  made  a  great  change  necessary  in 
the  covering  of  the  body.  The  defensive  armor  consisted  of 
helmet,  breastplate,  greaves,  and  shield.  The  helmet  had  a 
visor,  either  movable  or  immovable ;  the  top  adorned  with 
plumes  or  with  horses'  manes  cut  square  at  the  edges,  and 
passing  over  from  the  back  to  the  front,  and  the  surface 
embellished  with  chariots,  griffins,  and  other  insignia,  richly 
wrought.  The  breastplate  was  sometimes  in  two  pieces,  — 
one  to  cover  the  front  and  the  other  the  back,  —  fastened  to- 
gether at  the  sides ;  sometimes  of  square  plates  or  long  slips, 
secured  by  studs  on  a  leathern  doublet.  The  shoulders  were 
protected  by  a  separate  piece,  coming  down  to  the  breastplate, 
and  fastened  to  it  by  strings  or  clasps.  To  this  was  attached 
the  zoma,  —  a  sort  of  kilt,  —  hanging  below,  and  under  it  a 
belt  lined  with  wool,  to  protect  the  body  from  the  friction  of 
the  armor.  A  girdle,  often  richly  ornamented,  was  worn  out- 
side of  the  armor.  The  greaves  were  the  defences  of  the 
legs,  rising  above  the  knees,  and  secured  behind  with  loops 
or  clasps.  The  shield  was  commonly  circular,  but  often  oval. 
It  was  provided  with  loops  inside,  and  a  strap  or  bar  across. 
The  arm  passed  under  the  latter,  and  the  shield  was  held  by 
the  loop  on  the  opposite  side.  In  the  centre,  on  the  outside, 
was  a  raised  knob  or  boss ;  and  around  it  were  numerous  de- 
vices, ike  the  arms  on  the  shields  of  the  knights  of  chivalry. 


890  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

In  a  passage  of  the  Seven  against  Thebes,  this  feature  of  an 
cient  knighthood  is  brilliantly  displayed.  The  Messenger,  in 
describing  Tydeus,  says :  — 

"  On  his  shield's  face 
A  sign  he  bears  as  haughty  as  himself,  — 
The  welkin  flaming  with  a  thousand  lights,  — 
And  in  its  centre  the  full  moon  shines  forth, 
Eye  of  the  night  and  regent  of  the  stars." 

And  of  Capaneus  :  — 

"  His  orbed  shield 
The  blazon  of  a  naked  man  displays, 
Shaking  a  flaring  torch  with  lofty  threat 
In  golden  letters,  *  I  will  burn  the  city.' " 

And  of  Eteoclus :  — 

"  His  breadth  of  shield 
Superbly  rounded  shows  an  armed  man 
Scaling  a  city,  with  this  proud  device,  — 
'Nor  Ares'  self  shall  hurl  me  from  these  towers.'  " 

Polynices,  who  stands  at  the  seventh  gate,  bears  upon  hia 
shield  the  double  blazonry,  — 

"  A  woman 
Leading  with  sober  pace  an  armed  man 
All  bossed  in  gold,  and  thus  the  superscription : 
'  I,  Justice,  bring  this  injured  exile  back 
To  claim  his  portion  in  his  fathers'  hall.' " 

Six  of  the  seven  wear  shields  with  these  boastful  devices  ■ 

but,  singularly  enough,  the  poet  gives  to  the  wise  seer  Am- 

phiaraus 

"  A  full-orbed  shield 

Of  solid  brass,  but  plain,  without  device. 
Of  substance  studious,  careless  of  the  show, 
The  wise  man  is  what  fools  but  seem  to  be, 
Reaping  rich  harvests  from  the  mellow  soil 
Of  quiet  thought,  the  mother  of  great  deeds. 
Choose  thou  a  wise  and  virtuous  man  to  meet 
The  wise  and  virtuous.     Whoso  fears  the  gods 
Is  fearful  to  oppose." 

The  chief  offensive  weapons  were  the   short  broadsword, 
suspended  on  the  left  side  by  a  belt,  and  the  long  spear,  witfc 


ARTISTICAL   DRAPEEY.  391 

a  sharpened  end  to  the  shaft,  by  which  it  might  be  fixed  in  the 
ground.  In  Homer,  the  heroes  usually  carry  two  of  these 
last-named  weapons.  Bows  and  arrows  were  not  common  in 
the  later  ages  among  the  Grecian  soldiers ;  but  they  appear 
in  the  Homeric  warfare,  with  covered  quivers  to  protect  the 
arrows  from  rain  and  dust.  Apollo,  Artemis,  and  Eros  are  also 
represented  as  furnished  with  these  arms ;  and  what  mischief 
they  did  —  especially  the  last  troublesome  little  immortal  —  the 
poets,  from  Anacreon  down,  abundantly  testify.  The  Greek 
warriors  in  the  heroic  ages  made  frequent  use  of  war-chariots, 
each  drawn  by  two  horses.  By  the  side  of  the  chief  stood  his 
attendant  to  guide  the  horses,  while  he  fought.  It  is  singular 
that  in  Homer,  riding  horseback,  which  one  would  think  so 
much  more  convenient,  especially  where  the  ground  was  un- 
even, is  never  mentioned,  except  on  a  single  occasion.  Diome- 
des  and  Ulysses  go  out  upon  a  midnight  marauding  expedition 
to  the  enemy's  camp ;  they  slay  Rhesus  and  his  attendants, 
who  have  just  arrived  with  a  superb  team ;  they  then  steal  the 
horses,  and  make  their  escape  by  mounting  them  and  galloping 
back  to  camp. 

The  drapery  of  ancient  art,  in  its  best  and  most  ideal  days, 
is  to  be  discriminated  from  the  dresses  worn  in  the  common 
occupations  of  life.  The  principal  object  of  dress  is  the  pro- 
tection and  comfort  of  the  body ;  and  only  so  much  of  art 
as  is  consistent  with  this  primary  object  is  admissible  in  its 
form  and  texture.  It  is  true  that  the  natural  desire  to  please 
leads  young  persons  especially  to  sacrifice  the  substantial  to 
the  graceful.  In  our  present  style  of  manly  garb,  no  amount 
of  genius  can  throw  a  particle  of  grace  into  the  dress-coat,  for 
example,  with  its  skirts  and  pockets.  The  ordinary  dress  of 
the  ancients  was  much  better  suited  to  the  purposes  of  art  than 
ours,  and  might  be  copied  with  effect  in  a  marble  statue ;  but 
think  of  putting  either  our  dress-coat,  or  that  still  more  ludi- 
crous deformity,  the  sack,  —  shaped  like  a  pea-jacket,  —  into 
stone,  to  be  gazed  at  by  laughing  eyes  two  thousand  years 
hence       Notwithstanding  the   superior  effect  of  the  ancient 


392  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

dress,  the  Greek  artists  made  a  distinction  between  dress  and 
drapery.  Drapery  was  wholly  subordinate  to  the  form  and 
motion  of  the  body,  which  it  was  designed  to  exhibit,  not  to 
conceal;  to  set  off,  not  to  disguise.  Says  Achilles  Tatius, 
"  The  chiton  became  the  mirror  of  the  body."  All  the  ar- 
rangements of  the  drapery  were  made  expressly  for  this  pur- 
pose, and  not  to  produce  a  counterpart  of  the  every-day  dress. 
It  is  this  consideration  which  renders  the  drapery  of  the  an- 
cient sculptors  as  suitable  to  the  purposes  of  art  at  the  present 
moment  as  it  was  in  the  days  of  Pheidias.  It  was  founded  on 
artistic  principles  and  ideas,  not  on  practical  utility.  It  was 
an  accessory,  not  a  leading  part.  This  view  does  not  in  the 
least  contravene  the  historical  importance  of  portraiture  in 
which  a  minute  fidelity  to  the  style  of  dress  is  observed ;  but 
it  shows  how  unfounded  are  the  objections  sometimes  urged 
against  the  employment  of  ancient  drapery  in  the  treatment 
of  modern  subjects,  when  a  great  idea  or  a  momentous  crisis 
is  to  be  expressed  through  the  medium  of  human  form  and 
action.  Every  one  remembers  the  criticisms  that  passed  cur- 
rent for  a  time  upon  the  noble  statue  of  Washington,  by  an 
eminent  and  lamented  sculptor,  —  a  work,  both  in  design  and 
execution,  worthy  of  the  best  days  of  Grecian  plastic  art. 
Standing  in  the  centre  of  a  public  square,  with  no  covering 
but  the  arch  of  heaven,  the  marble  semblance  of  the  Father 
of  his  Country,  in  the  simple  majesty  of  form,  attitude,  and 
expression,  makes  a  powerful  impression  on  the  mind  of  the 
beholder,  and  fills  it  with  emotions  of  grandeur.  Party  spirit 
and  personal  aims  are  rebuked  and  abashed  in  the  presence  of 
that  silent,  heroic,  godlike  figure.  Genius  has  here  achieved 
one  of  its  highest  triumphs  ;  it  has  stamped  on  the  heart  of 
the  living  generation  the  unforgotten  lessons  of  patriotism,  by 
the  sublimity  and  beauty  of  an  immortal  act,  embodied  with 
noble  simplicity  in  the  imperishable  form  of  art. 

These  details  of  private  life  —  modes,  fashions,  and  enjoy- 
ments —  necessarily  imply  an  extended  system  of  domestic  in- 
dustry and  foreign  commerce.     The  policy  of  Lycurgus  was 


MANUFACTURES,   TRADE,   AND   COMMERCE.  393 

to  encourage  idleness  among  the  free-born,  except  in  warlike 
exercises.  The  policy  of  the  Athenians  was  just  the  opposite. 
A  Lacedaemonian,  happening  to  be  in  Athens  when  a  citizen 
was  prosecuted  for  being  a  lazy  fellow,  remarked  that  the 
Athenians  punished  a  man  for  being  a  gentleman.  Draco 
punished  this  crime  with  death.  Solon  made  laziness  on  the 
third  conviction  a  capital  offence.  Rewards  for  distinction  in 
any  useful  art  were  the  same  as  those  bestowed  on  eminent 
magistrates  and  generals,  —  a  proof  of  enlightened  views  as  to 
the  real  interests  of  the  state  seldom  given  by  modern  com- 
monwealths. A  constant  competition  was  thus  kept  up  in  the 
career  of  invention  and  improvement.  Plutarch,  speaking  of 
the  great  enterprises  undertaken  by  Pericles,  says :  "  The  me- 
chanics also  did  not  go  without  their  share  of  the  public  money, 
nor  yet  received  it  to  maintain  them  in  idleness.  By  the  con- 
structing of  great  edifices,  which  require  many  arts  and  a  long 
time  to  finish  them,  they  had  equal  pretensions  to  be  recom- 
pensed out  of  the  treasury  —  though  they  stirred  not  from  the 
city  —  with  the  mariners,  soldiers,  and  garrison.  For  the  dif- 
ferent materials,  such  as  stone,  brass,  ivory,  gold,  ebony,  and 
cypress,  furnished  employment  to  carpenters,  masons,  braziers, 
goldsmiths,  painters,  turners,  and  other  artificers ;  the  convey- 
ance of  them  by  sea  employed  merchants  and  sailors,  and  by 
land,  wheelwrights,  wagoners,  carriers,  rope-makers,  leather- 
dressers,  pavers,  and  iron-founders ;  and  every  art  had  a  num- 
ber of  the  lower  people  ranged  in  proper  subordination  to  exe- 
cute it,  like  soldiers  under  the  command  of  a  general.  Thus 
by  the  exercise  of  these  different  trades  was  plenty  diffused 
among  persons  of  every  rank  and  condition."  There  were  in- 
dustrial exhibitions,  —  called  Seigeis,  or  shows,  —  which  brought 
together  specimens  of  all  the  inventions  and  improvements  that 
had  been  entered  for  the  prize  in  their  respective  departments. 
At  Sybaris,  as  Athenseus  relates,  the  author  of  a  new  dish  in 
cookery  was  rewarded  with  the  monopoly  of  the  article  during 
the  year.  Some  occupations,  indeed,  such  as  that  of  the  per- 
fumer,  were   not  considered  reputable  frr  a  man  to  engage 


S94  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

in ;  and  sausage-sellers  and  fishmongers  were  not  held  in  high 
esteem. 

Domestic  industry  was  encouraged  by  restrictions  laid  on 
foreigners.  Young  persons  were  apprenticed  to  trades,  as 
now ;  and  no  man  could  legally  carry  on  more  than  a  single 
branch  of  business,  the  division  of  labor  being  considered  the 
foundation  of  all  excellence  in  the  manufacturing  arts.  This 
principle  is  discussed  at  great  length  by  Plato  in  his  Republic 
and  Laws.  "  There  are  two  things,"  he  says,  "  which  are 
the  ruin  of  manufacturers,  —  wealth  and  poverty.  A  potter, 
for  instance,  getting  rich,  will  grow  idle  and  neglect  his  art ; 
and  if  he  has  not  the  means  of  procuring  proper  tools  and 
materials,  he  will  manufacture  inferior  wares,  and  make  his 
sons  and  apprentices  worse  workmen  ;  so  that  a  moderate  com- 
petence is  most  desirable  for  the  individual  and  the  commu- 
nity." There  was  at  Athens  no  system  of  castes,  by  which 
the  son  was  necessarily  brought  up  to  his  father's  trade  ;  but 
it  often  happened  that  the  same  pursuit  was  adopted  by  several 
generations  of  the  same  family  in  succession.  The  practical 
arts  were  successfully  cultivated  in  many  parts  of  Greece. 
Boeotia  manufactured  famous  chariots  ;  Thessaly,  easy-chairs  ; 
Chios  and  Miletus,  beds ;  Megara,  Corinth,  and  Cnidos  rivalled 
Athens  in  the  exquisite  form  and  finish  of  their  earthen-ware. 
Public  mills,  worked  by  slaves  or  animals,  and  even  wind- 
mills, were  common  in  Attica.  Menedemus  and  Asclepiades, 
when  poor,  supported  themselves  by  laboring  in  a  mill  by  night, 
giving  their  days  to  the  study  of  philosophy.  The  story  is 
told  by  Athenseus,  that  these  poor  scholars  were  charged  with 
idleness,  —  few  knowing  the  sources  of  their  income,  —  and 
brought  to  trial  before  the  Areopagus.  The  miller  who  em- 
ployed them  testified  that  he  paid  each  of  them  two  drachmas 
(about  two  shillings)  a  night.  The  judges  of  the  Areopagus, 
pleased  with  this  honest  method  of  procuring  the  means  of 
obtaining  a  liberal  education,  not  only  acquitted  them,  bu 
gave  them  a  present  of  two  hundred  drachmae. 

I  have  aiready  spoken,  in  connection  with  another  topic,  of 


MANUFACTURES,   TRADE,  AND   COMMERCE.  395 

the  manufacture  of  the  articles  of  prime  necessity  to  life,  and  of 
the  bakers,  cooks,  vintners,  and  butchers.  Other  trades  were 
those  of  the  goldsmiths,  stone-cutters,  blacksmiths,  cutlers, 
and  armorers,  who  attained  the  highest  degree  of  skill  in  their 
several  branches  of  business.  Mining  was  carried  on  under 
the  auspices  of  the  state.  Charcoal-making  was  an  important 
branch  of  industry,  connected  not  only  with  various  trades, 
but  with  the  daily  operations  of  the  household.  House-build- 
ers, cabinet-makers,  wheelwrights,  turners,  glass-blowers  (who 
carried  the  manufacture  of  this  article  to  the  highest  possible 
perfection  as  to  form,  transparency,  and  color),  oil-dealers, 
druggists,  weavers,  glovers,  shoemakers,  tanners,  hatters, 
dyers,  and  innumerable  other  craftsmen,  were  to  be  found  in 
every  enlightened  state  of  Greece,  but  especially  in  Athens, 
carrying  on  their  business,  and  supporting  the  gigantic  struc- 
ture of  prosperity  and  civilization,  upon  which,  in  those  far 
distant  ages,  we  gaze  with  wonder. 

The  genius  and  position  of  Greece  equally  invited  her  to 
engage  in  commercial  enterprise ;  but  the  institutions  of  some 
of  the  states  were  much  more  favorable  to  its  development 
than  those  of  others.  As  a  general  rule,  the  Spartans  were 
less  inclined  to  this  pursuit  than  the  Athenians;  but  even 
they,  with  all  their  antipathy  to  foreigners,  and  despite  their 
iron-money  theories,  could  not  resist  the  course  of  events  and 
the  march  of  civilization.  The  early  traders  of  Phoenicia 
and  Greece  appear  to  have  united  the  professions  of  merchant 
and  pirate ;  but  this  state  of  things  was  limited  to  ages  when 
the  lines  were  not  strictly  drawn  between  mine  and  thine. 
The  jEginetans  were  among  the  first  to  engage  in  distant  ven- 
tures, carrying  their  trade  eastward  to  the  Black  Sea,  and  west- 
ward to  Tartessus.  In  Egypt  the  Greeks  had  commercial 
establishments  at  Naucratis  in  the  Delta,  like  the  English  and 
American  houses  in  Canton ;  and  they  built  there  nine  cities, 
lour  of  the  Ionians,  fout  of  the  Dorians,  and  one  of  the  Coh- 
ans. Of  all  the  Dorian  cities  on  the  mainland,  Corinth  was  the 
wealthiest  and  the  most  addicted  to  foreign  commerce,  as  well 


396  THE  LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

as  to  manufactures.  "No  state,"  says  Xenophon,  "can  ever 
export  anything,  if  it  be  not  submissive  to  the  mistress  of  the 
sea;  upon  her  depends  all  the  exportation  of  the  surplus  prod- 
uce of  other  nations."  The  inland  traffic  of  Greece  appears  to 
have  been  carried  on  chiefly  by  fairs,  held  at  convenient  and 
accessible  places,  and  particularly  at  the  sites  and  seasons  of 
the  four  great  games,  —  the  Olympian,  Pythian,  Nemean,  and 
Isthmian.  Athens,  however,  had  a  richer  and  more  extensive 
commerce  than  any  other  portion  of  the  Grecian  world.  The 
purity  of  her  coin  made  it  current  everywhere,  as  a  favored 
medium  of  exchange ;  her  system  of  banking  was  especially 
adapted  to  the  encouragement  of  trade  ;  her  harbors  were 
admirable  ;  her  large  commercial  marine  enabled  her  to  ex- 
port and  import  with  the  greatest  facility  ;  and  as  her  own 
soil  did  not  produce  breadstuffs  in  sufficient  quantities  for  the 
consumption  of  her  teeming  population,  she  was  obliged  to 
rely  on  the  foreign  producers,  who  were  always  anxious  to 
supply  her  markets.  At  the  same  time,  the  freedom  of  her 
institutions,  and  the  liberality  of  her  commercial  code,  tended 
powerfully  to  develop  the  mercantile  spirit  into  energetic 
action.  She  everywhere  sought  markets  for  her  manufacture? 
of  every  description,  from  wine  and  swords  to  books.  Hei 
relation  to  the  other  states  of  Greece  also  made  her  the  general 
agent  for  all  their  business  operations ;  so  that  Athens  was 
the  resort  of  merchants,  traders,  and  all  kinds  of  business- 
men, not  only  from  the  Hellenic  states  and  the  colonies  round 
the  Mediterranean  Sea,  but  from  the  wealthy  communities 
of  the  Oriental  world ;  and  there  is  but  little  doubt  that  an 
indirect  trade  was  carried  on  with  China,  through  India.  The 
Peirasus,  or  port  of  Athens,  always  presented  a  busy,  bustling 
scene,  resounding  with  a  hundred  languages,  and  enlivened  by 
the  strange  dresses  of  a  hundred  nations.  Goods  and  merchan- 
dise from  every  part  of  the  world  were  crowded  into  its  ware- 
houses and  bazaars  ;  and  an  incessant  din  of  sellers  and  buyers 
was  kept  up  from  morning  till  night.  It  was  the  boast  of 
Isocrates,  that  Athens  had  established  the  Peirasus  as  an  en> 


MANUFACTURES,   TRADE,   AND   COMMERCE.  397 

porium  in  the  centre  of  Hellas,  so  abundantly  supplied,  that  it 
was  easy  to  procure  there  all  those  things  which  it  was  difficult 
to  find  in  other  places.  And  he  justly  sets  forth  this  fact 
as  one  of  the  strongest  claims  of  Athens  to  the  supremacy 
he  asserts  for  her  among  the  Grecian  states. 


LECTURE    VII. 

DORIAN  MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS.  —  CLUBS.  —  PROVISION  FOR 
THE  POOR.  — THE  MEDICAL  PROFESSION. 

The  details  which  have  been  given  of  the  private  life  of  the 
Greeks  relate  mostly  to  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Athe- 
nians. The  same  way  of  living,  or  nearly  the  same,  prevailed 
in  the  other  cities  and  states  founded  by  the  Ionian  stock. 
The  Dorians  had  different  views  of  life,  and  manifested  them 
in  the  adoption  of  widely  different  usages.  Crete  and  Sparta 
were  the  principal  seats  of  Dorian  life  ;  but  a  general  similarity 
to  the  Doric  type  was  to  be  seen  in  Argos,  Cos,  Cnidos,  and 
many  other  places ;  the  similarity  embracing  personal,  domestic, 
and  social  customs,  and  the  principles  of  government.  Among 
its  features  we  may  name  a  rigid  discipline  in  private  and  in 
public,  respect  for  ancient  usages,  reverence  for  established 
laws,  and  submission  to  the  authority  of  elders,  who  were  re- 
garded as  so  sacred  that  to  treat  them  with  disrespect,  to  apply 
to  them  contemptuous  epithets,  or  to  set  them  aside  on  any  oc- 
casion, was  deemed  offensive  alike  to  sound  morals,  polite  man- 
ners, good  taste,  and  common  sense,  —  the  surest  mark  of  a 
wanton  disposition,  a  vulgar  tone  of  feeling,  and  a  base  soul,  — 
at  once  coarse,  impious,  and  sacrilegious.  The  genuine  Spar- 
tans were  not  allowed  or  expected  to  engage  in  trade  or  agri- 
culture ;  these  occupations  being  limited  to  the  inferior  classes, 
—  the  Perioeci  and  the  Helots.  Their  houses  were  simple  in 
arrangement  and  structure ;  the  laws  of  Lycurgus  aiming  to 
restrain  excess  and  extravagance  in  private  dwellings,  and  for- 
bidding useless  ornaments,  but  not  interfering  with  the  archi- 
tecture of  public  buildings.     The  solid  and  magnificent  Doric 


DORIAN  MANNERS  AND   CUSTOMS.  399 

architecture  —  the  noblest  style  in  Greece  —  was  at  once  the 
invention  and  the  type  of  this  race.  With  regard  to  their  cos- 
tume, I  have  already  spoken  in  general  terms.  The  unmar- 
ried women  appeared  in  public  more  than  the  married ;  and 
when  they  appeared,  their  faces  were  not  concealed  behind  a 
veil.  It  was  in  accordance  with  Dorian  propriety  for  them  to 
walk  in  the  streets  with  young  men ;  they  were  spectators  in 
the  gymnastic  contests,  and  sometimes  took  part  in  them  them- 
selves. They  wore  a  garment  like  the  Athenian  chiton,  but 
with  no  sleeves,  fastened  by  clasps  over  the  shoulder,  so  ar- 
ranged as  not  to  impede  the  motion  of  the  limbs,  and  without 
a  girdle;  and  this  was  usually  their  whole  dress  when  they 
performed  their  exercises  or  danced  in  the  chorus.  The  dress 
of  the  men  was  equally  simple.  The  tribon,  a  garment  of  thick 
cloth  and  small  size,  was  worn  by  Spartan  youths,  and  some- 
times by  old  men,  the  whole  year  through.  Ointment-makers 
and.  dyers  were  excluded  fr6m  Sparta.  Clemens  Alexan- 
drinus  quotes  the  Spartan  saying,  "Deceitful  are  dyes,  deceit- 
ful are  ointments."  The  beard  was  considered  the  ornament 
of  man,  and  in  several  Doric  states  shaving  was  prohibited  by 
penal  enactments.  The  hair  remained  uncut,  and  was  tied  in 
a  knot  over  the  crown.  Like  the  Quakers,  they  wore  hats 
with  broad  brims. 

They  differed  widely  from  the  Ionians  in  their  usages  with 
regard  to  daily  meals.  They  dined  together  at  public  tables ; 
and  though  they  reclined  like  other  Greeks,  it  was  on  hard 
benches  without  cushions.  Foreign  cooks  were  not  allowed  to 
practise  their  profession  in  Sparta ;  and  native  cookery  was  a 
business  that  passed  by  hereditary  descent  from  father  to  son. 
The  principal  dish  was  the  famous  black  broth,  which  was 
always  made  according  to  a  traditional  receipt,  and  continued 
equally  detestable  from  age  to  age.  They  sometimes  indulged 
in  pork,  poultry,  beef,  and  kid's  flesh.  They  drank  wine 
mixed  with  water,  but  never  toasted  one  another,  apparently 
thinking  this  custom  a  waste  of  words,  Fat  men  were  looked 
upon  with  suspicion,  and  were  liable  to  severe  penalties.     In- 


400  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

toxication  was  forbidden  by  law,  and  all  citizens  were  prohib- 
ited from  attending  symposia.  The  men  were  organized  for 
the  public  tables  in  small  companies,  or  societies,  into  which 
new  members  were  admitted  by  election.  Conversation  turned 
chiefly  on  public  affairs,  though  the  terseness  and  point  of  the 
Laconian  style  of  talking  often  enlivened  these  otherwise  some- 
what dismal  entertainments  with  pungent  jest  and  witty  rep- 
artee. The  adult  men  attended  these  meals ;  the  youths  and 
boys  had  their  separate  places  and  companies ;  and  the  small 
children  sat  on  low  stools  near  their  fathers,  and  received  from 
them  a  half-allowance,  being  permitted  to  steal  something 
more,  if  they  could  do  it  without  being  found  out.  The 
women  took  their  meals  at  home.  Among  the  Cretans,  tables 
were  always  set  for  strangers ;  and  the  citizens  of  allied  states 
had  the  privilege  of  occupying  a  place  at  one  another's  tables 
unasked.  The  rigid  rules  which  the  Spartans  adopted  in  ac- 
cordance with  a  theoretical  view  of  human  nature  and  a  me- 
chanical idea  of  political  communities,  gave  place  to  the  most 
wanton  excesses  of  luxury  when  the  novelty  had  worn  away, 
and  the  irksomeness  of  the  undue  interference  of  legal  re- 
straints with  individual  liberty  made  itself  felt. 

The  domestic  relations  were  on  a  different  footing  in  Sparta. 
A  broad  line  was  drawn  between  the  rights  of  the  citizen  at 
home  and  abroad.  Inside  of  his  hall-door  he  resumed  his  indi- 
viduality, while  outside  of  it  he  was  completely  merged  in  the 
state.  Young  persons  of  both  sexes  had  many  opportunities 
of  free  mutual  intercourse.  Young  men,  living  more  con- 
stantly in  the  presence  of  unmarried  women,  came  to  value 
their  good  opinion  more  highly  than  was  usual  in  other  parts  of 
Greece  ;  and  Mr.  Miiller  thinks  that  love-matches  were  much 
more  common,  because  the  damsels  were  so  often  seen  dancing 
on  ornamented  cars  on  the  way  to  the  temple  of  Helen,  and 
riding  horseback  in  the  midst  of  assembled  multitudes.  How- 
ever this  may  be,  the  beauty  of  Lacedaemonian  women  was 
proverbial  from  Helen  down,  —  a  somewhat  masculine  beauty, 
owing  partly  to  the  gymnastic  exercises.     This  is  amusingly 


CLUBS.  401 

alluded  to  in  the  Lysistrata  of  Aristophanes,  where  the  ruddy 
health  of  Lampito,  the  Spartan  delegate  to  the  women's  con- 
vention, is  admired  and  applauded  by  her  sister  represent- 
atives. 

Marriage  at  Sparta  consisted  of  two  ceremonies ;  —  first,  the 
betrothal  by  the  father  or  guardian  of  the  bride ;  and  secondly, 
the  violent  seizure  of  the  bride  by  the  bridegroom,  who  car- 
ried her  off  from  a  chorus,  or  from  some  place  where  he  chanced 
to  meet  her,  placed  her  in  the  hands  of  a  bridemaid,  who  cut 
off  her  hair,  went  to  a  public  banquet  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened, and  then  joined  his  wife  without  anybody's  knowing  it. 
These  stolen  interviews  were  kept  up  for  a  long  time  before 
he  introduced  his  wife  to  his  own  house.  The  obligation  to 
marry,  as  a  matter  of  public  duty,  has*  already  been  alluded 
to.  I  will  add  here  that  old  bachelors,  very  properly,  were  not 
allowed  to  be  present  at  the  gymnastic  exercises  of  the  young 
girls;  and  the  magistrate  was  invested  with  the  wholesome 
power  of  making  them  run  round  the  market-place  in  winter 
naked,  singing  verses  containing  satires  upon  themselves.  A 
penalty  was  enforced,  not  only  on  those  who  married  late  or 
not  at  all,  but  also  on  those  who  married  unsuitably,  —  mar- 
riage being  regarded  less  as  a  private  relation  than  as  a  public 
institution.  Each  party  was  required  to  have  a  certificate  of 
health  and  beauty,  —  a  rule  that  must  have  operated  severely 
on  some  of  the  single  men.  The  Dorian  wife  seems  to  have 
enjoyed  a  high  degree  of  respect  and  honor,  as  the  female  head 
of  her  family ;  she  was  saluted  by  the  title  of  Beavoiva  (mis- 
tress), while  the  husband  was  called  eo-Ttov^o?  (possessor  of 
the  hearth),  and  the  Spartans  were  often  laughed  at  for  their 
quiet  submission  to  the  authority  of  their  wives. 

The  clubs  of  Sparta  and  Athens  form  a  feature  of  the  life 
of  Greece,  not  to  be  passed  over.  In  every  Grecian  com- 
munity there  \*as  a  place  of  resort  called  the  Lesche.  In 
Sparta  it  was  peculiarly  the  resort  for  old  men,  who  assembled 
round  a  blazing  fire  in  winter,  and  were  listened  to  with  pro- 

vol.  i.  26 


402  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

found  respect  by  their  juniors.  These  retreats  were  numerous 
in  Athens,  and  not  only  afforded  a  convenient  place  of  meet- 
ing for  the  talkers  and  political  gossips,  but  a  refuge  where  the 
poor  might  obtain  warmth  and  shelter  gratuitously.  The  term 
"Lesche"  is  indeed  used  to  designate  any  kind  of  convention 
or  council,  as  well  as  the  place  where  such  meetings  were 
held ;  but  at  Athens  it  is  said  that  there  were  three  hundred 
and  sixty  Leschae  for  the  special  purposes  I  have  mentioned. 
Clubs  for  mutual  relief  were  common  in  Athens,  the  members 
paying  a  stated  sum,  and  having  the  right  to  draw  upon  the 
treasury  when  they  fell  into  distress  or  poverty;  these  were 
called  eranoi.  The  laws  of  Solon  allowed  the  members  of  these 
associations  to  frame  such  rules  for  their  regulation  as  they 
pleased,  provided  that  they  infringed  no  public  law.  Clubs 
were  formed  in  a  similar  manner  for  numerous  other  purposes 
of  a  social  or  business  character,  as  to  carry  on  mercantile  ex- 
peditions, to  perform  certain  sacrifices,  to  dine  together  on  such 
occasions  as  the  great  national  festivals.  These  classes  of  clubs 
were  called  eranoi  and  thiasoi,  —  the  former  more  especially 
devoted  to  social  pleasures,  and  the  latter  to  religious  affairs. 
But  the  charitable  or  relief  clubs  —  also,  as  has  been  said, 
called  eranoi  —  were  the  most  common  and  useful.  The  sums 
advanced  to  needy  members  were,  however,  regarded  as  debts 
of  honor,  to  be  scrupulously  repaid  as  soon  as  the  circumstances 
of  the  recipient  enabled  him  to  do  so.  The  subscription  to  most 
•>f  the  clubs  was  not  only  a  debt  of  honor,  but  one  which  could 
je  legally  enforced,  and  many  cases  growing  out  of  these  club 
obligations  were  tried  before  a  special  court.  The  principal 
officer  of  the  club  was  chosen  by  lot  or  elected  by  the  mem- 
bers, and  combined  the  functions  of  president  and  treasurer ; 
his  duty  being  to  collect  the  assessments  and  regulate  the 
meetings.  The  members  of  the  convivial  clubs  dined  at  one 
another's  houses  alternately,  or  at  taverns  resembling  the  club- 
houses of  our  times  ;  but  they  appear  to  have  restrained  then 
expenses  within  moderate  limits,  justly  considering  the  legiti- 
mate object  of  such  associations  to  be  the  pleasures  of  societj 


PROVISION   FOR   THE  POOR.  403 

and  conversation,  rather  than  a  show  of  extravagance  and  lux- 
ury. The  nature  of  the  obligation  laid  on  members  by  these 
debts  is  seon  in  the  fact  that  Leocrates,  who  was  prosecuted  by 
Lycurgus,  the  orator,  for  treason  in  deserting  his  country  after 
the  battle  of  Chaeroneia,  left  it  in  charge  of  his  brother  in  Ath- 
ens to  pay  his  club-debts. 

In  a  society  so  intensely  political  as  that  of  the  Athenians, 
such  reunions  almost  inevitably  assumed  a  party  character,  and 
were  often  turned  to  the  accomplishment  of  partisan  purposes. 
The  administration  of  justice  was  not  seldom  interfered  with 
by  partialities  and  attachments  growing  out  of  these  associa- 
tions ;  and  popular  votes  on  public  questions  were  a  good  deal 
influenced  by  the  prejudices  of  the  clubs.  Thucydides  de- 
scribes the  feeling  they  generated  as  stronger  than  attachment 
to  country.  They  were  sometimes  made  the  instruments  of 
conspiracy  and  revolution.  Thus  the  overthrow  of  the  de- 
mocracy, with  the  establishment  of  the  Oligarchy  of  the  Four 
Hundred,  in  the  Peloponnesian  war,  by  Phrynichus,  Antiphon, 
and  other  conspirators,  was  brought  about  mainly  through  the 
help  of  the  clubs.  The  various  classes  of  these  institutions, 
their  character,  objects,  and  influence,  are  tersely  and  ably 
described  by  Aristotle  in  his  Nicomachean  Ethics,  where  they 
are  all  treated  under  the  head  of  political  societies. 

It  is  pleasing  to  find  that  the  claims  of  the  poor  were  not 
neglected  in  ancient  communities.  The  question  of  their  sup- 
port, however,  nowhere  in  antiquity  assumed  so  formidable  an 
aspect  as  it  has  in  modern  times.  Their  wants  were  easily 
provided  for,  not  only  by  the  associations  I  have  briefly 
described,  but  in  various  methods,  by  the  state  or  by  the 
wealthier  classes.  On  certain  festivals,  entertainments  were 
given  by  the  rich  citizens  to  the  members  of  their  several 
tribes,  either  voluntarily,  or  in  rotation  by  a  fixed  rule ;  for  the 
feast  must  be  given  somehow.  The  number  of  guests  on  one 
>f  these  occasions  is  estimated  by  Boeckh  to  have  been  usually 
more  than  two  thousand.    When  sacrifices  were  offered,  it  was 


404  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

customary  to  distribute  parts  of  the  victim  among  the  poor. 
In  times  of  famine  or  scarcity,  corn  was  dealt  out  at  the 
Odeion,  or  the  Peiraeus,  or  the  Arsenal.  On  one  occasion 
Psammetichus,  the  king  of  Egypt,  presented  to  the  people  of 
Athens  a  quantity  of  wheat  sufficient  to  bestow  on  each  citizen 
seven  or  eight  bushels.  Athenaeus  relates  that  when  Ion,  a 
dramatic  poet  of  Chios,  won  the  tragic  prize  on  the  Athenian 
boards,  he  presented  to  every  citizen  a  jar  of  the  best  Chian 
wine,  which  one  would  think  must  have  nearly  exhausted  his 
cellars.  The  plunder  brought  home  by  victorious  generals 
sometimes  furnished  the  means  of  entertaining  the  people  on 
a  grand  scale.  Chares  spent  sixty  talents,  or  about  seventy 
thousand  dollars,  in  feasting  the  Demos,  in  the  agora.  A 
similar  entertainment  was  given  by  Conon  after  the  naval  vic- 
tory over  the  Lacedaemonians  at  Cnidos.  Cimon  made  him- 
self immensely  popular  by  throwing  open  his  gardens  to  the 
public,  and  keeping  a  table  constantly  laid  for  any  one  who 
chose  to  dine  there.  Whenever  he  went  abroad,  two  or  three 
attendants  followed  him  with  bags  of  money  to  be  distributed 
among  the  needy ;  and  if  he  saw  an  Athenian  meanly  clad,  he 
ordered  one  of  his  servants  to  exchange  clothes  with  him,  —  an 
exchange  no  doubt  infinitely  more  agreeable  to  the  citizen  than 
the  servant.  Provision  was  made  at  the  public  expense  for 
soldiers  disabled  in  war,  and  for  the  education  of  the  children 
of  those  who  had  fallen  in  battle.  Still  beggars  were  not  want- 
ing, beginning  with  Irus  in  Homer,  and  coming  down  through 
every  age.  Some  of  them  went  about  the  country  with  a  tame 
crow  or  raven,  singing  a  ditty  which  has  been  preserved  by 
Athenaeus :  — 

"  Good  people,  a  handful  of  barley  bestow 
On  the  child  of  Apollo,  the  sable  crow. 
Or  a  little  wheat,  0  kind  friends,  give. 
Or  a  loaf  of  bread,  that  the  crow  may  live ; 
For  on  these  she  loves  to  feast  full  well. 
Who  to-day  gives  salt,  the  honeycomb's  cell 
To-morrow  will  give.     Pray  open  the  dcor. 
Why  keep  me  waiting  a  moment  more? 


PROVISION   FOR   THE   POOR.  405 

"  Plutus  has  heard  our  prayers ; 
A  little  maid  to  the  raven  bears 
A  basket  of  figs  all  fresh  and  sweet. 
God  bless  the  maiden,  so  trim  and  neat ; 
May  she  all  good  fortune  prove, 
The  joys  of  wealth,  and  a  husband's  love, 
And  in  her  aged  father's  arms 
A  grandson  place,  with  his  winning  charms, 
And  on  her  loving  mother's  knee 
A  little  maiden  as  fair  as  she." 

The  luxuries  of  the  poor,  in  their  ordinary  way  of  living, 
were  extremely  limited.  Antiphanes,  as  quoted  by  St.  John, 
"  describes  a  poor  man's  meal  as  consisting  of  a  cake  bristling 
with  bran  for  the  sake  of  economy,  with  an  onion,  and  for  a 
relish  a  dish  of  sow-thistles,  or  of  mushrooms,  or  some  such 
wretched  produce  of  the  soil,  —  a  diet  producing  neither  fever 
nor  phlegm."  Two  Pythagorean  philosophers  are  mentioned, 
who  lived  all  their  lives  on  water  and  figs,  and  grew  very 
healthy  and  stout  on  this  fare.  But  it  gave  their  persons  a 
very  unpleasant  odor,  like  that  by  which  ancient  smokers  pol- 
lute the  breath  of  heaven,  so  that  when  they  appeared  at  the 
baths,  or  other  places  of  public  resort,  their  presence  was  like 
the  reading  of  the  riot-act,  and  caused  an  instantaneous  dis- 
persion. Alexis,  the  poet,  introduces  a  poor  Athenian  woman 
describing,  not  without  a  natural  pathos,  the  condition  of  her 
family :  — 

"  Mean  my  husband  is,  and  poor, 
And  my  blooming  days  are  o'er. 
Children  have  we  two,  —  a  boy, 
The  father's  pet,  the  mother's  joy, 
And  a  girl  so  fair  and  small, — 
And  this  good  nurse,  —  we  're  five  in  all ; 
Yet  alas  !  alas  !  have  we 
Food  enough  for  only  three. 
So  two  of  us  must  often  make 
A  scanty  meal  on  barley-cake ; 
And  when  the  board  there  's  naught  that  cheers, 
Our  sorrows  break  in  sighs  and  tears : 
And  we  who  once  were  strong  and  hale 


406  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

By  fasting  grow  so  weak  and  pale. 
For  our  best  and  daintiest  cheer, 
Through  the  bright  half  of  the  year, 
Is  but  acorns,  onions,  peas, 
Or  beans,  lupines,  radishes, 
Vetches,  wild  pears,  when  we  c^n, 
And  a  locust  now  and  then. 
As  to  figs,  —  the  Phrygian  treat, 
Fit  for  Jove's  own  guests  to  eat,  — 
They,  when  happier  moments  shine, 
They,  the  Attic  figs,  are  mine." 

The  profession  of  the  physician  was  held  in  the  highest  honcr 
among  the  Greeks,  from  very  early  times.     Says  Homer, 

"  A  wise  physician,  skilled  our  wounds  to  heal, 
Is  worth  whole  armies  to  the  commonweal." 

In  the  warlike  scenes  of  the  Iliad,  the  surgical  part  of  the  pro- 
fession was  naturally  the  most  needed ;  and  the  practice  was 
evidently  of  the  simplest  kind.  Podaleirius  and  Machaon 
passed  for  sons  of  JEsculapius,  who  was  afterwards  worshipped 
as  the  god  of  medicine ;  but  they  knew  how  to  fight  as  well 
as  to  heal.  At  first,  the  priests  appear  to  have  combined  the 
practice  of  medicine  with  the  functions  of  their  sacred  office  ; 
divination  and  the  healing  art  having  been  closely  connected 
in  the  ideas  of  men.  Leech-craft  never  ceased  to  be  accounted 
divine ;  and  one  of  the  titles  of  Apollo  was  the  Healer.  In  the 
course  of  time,  the  priestly  and  medical  characters  were  distin- 
guished ;  and  the  recorded  observations  of  ages  were  moulded 
into  a  science.  But  in  the  popular  mind  ignorant  and  super- 
stitious notions  always  remained ;  magical  arts  were  resorted 
to ;  amulets  were  used ;  dreams  were  relied  upon ;  and  it  is 
even  supposed  that  animal  magnetism  and  clairvoyance  were 
employed  by  the  ancient  quacks.  Certain  diseases,  such  as 
3pilepsy,  were  accounted  sacred,  being  supposed  to  have  come 
ilirectly  from  some  supernatural  interposition  of  the  Deity.  A 
sudden  death  was  caused  by  the  invisible  and  gentle  shafts  of 
Apollo  or  Diana.  These  ideas  and  illusions  were  never  wholly 
dissipated,  except  among  the  most  enlightened  practitioners. 


THE  MEDICAL  PROFESSION.  407 

The  great  centres  of  the  healing  art  were  the  Asclepieia,  or 
Temples  of  jEsculapius,  established  in  many  places,  and  gener- 
ally on  spots  known  for  the  salubrity  of  their  situation,  as 
on  some  breezy  highland  or  in  the  neighborhood  of  medical 
springs.  The  three  principal  schools  or  hospitals  were  those 
of  Rhodes,  Cnidos,  and  Cos.  These  places  were  frequented  by 
invalids,  who  placed  themselves  under  the  care  of  the  resident 
physicians ;  and  the  records  of  the  cases,  kept  from  one  gener- 
ation to  another,  constituted  the  basis  of  facts  on  which  the 
theories  of  medicine  were  founded.  The  pupils  of  these 
schools  appear  to  have  scattered  themselves  all  over  Greece. 
What  standard  of  professional  attainment  was  applied  in  the 
admission  of  candidates,  we  cannot  precisely  tell ;  but  no  one 
was  allowed  to  practise  without  giving  some  proof  that  he  pos- 
sessed the  necessary  qualifications  for  the  performance  of  his 
delicate  and  important  duties.  In  many  places  there  was  a 
body  of -physicians  chosen  by  public  authority,  and  paid  by  the 
state.  Democedes  of  Crotona,  540  B.  C,  received  in  JEgina 
one  talent,  or  about  one  thousand  and  seventy  dollars  ;  Athens 
made  a  higher  bid  for  his  services,  of  about  seventeen  hundred 
dollars  ;  and  at  last,  Polycrates,  the  tyrant  of  Samos,  obtained 
him  on  a  salary  of  two  talents,  or  about  two  thousand  one  hun- 
dred and  forty  dollars.  We  are  not  told  what  duties  were  re- 
quired of  these  public  physicians  in  return  for  the  salary  ;  but 
they  were  probably  limited  to  residence,  a  general  supervision 
of  the  public  health,  and  occasional  consultation  with  the 
magistrates ;  at  all  events,  they  do  not  appear  to  have  interfered 
with  their  fees,  which  were  sometimes  exacted  in  advance,  for 
fear,  perhaps,  that  the  patient  might  die,  and  the  heir  dispute 
the  bill,  though,  according  to  Aristotle,  this  was  no  plea  in  bar 
of  the  claim.  The  physician  made  up  his  prescriptions,  as 
the  pharmacopolai,  or  druggists,  were  generally  ill-educated 
and  low  persons,  unfit  to  be  trusted.  He  had  an  office,  called 
Iatreion,  where  his  attendants  and  pupils  remained,  and  where 
he  received  calls.  His  regular  patients  were  visited  at  their 
own  houses.     The  patients  belonging  to  the  lower  classes  of 


408  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

society  were  attended  by  his  subordinates.  All  the  branches 
of  the  profession  were  exercised  by  the  same  individual,  until 
a  late  period,  when  oculists,  dentists,  and  the  like  occupied 
themselves  each  exclusively  with  his  special  department. 

Of  all  the  ancient  physicians,  Hippocrates  was,  by  universal 
consent,  placed  in  the  very  highest  rank.  I  am,  of  course,  in- 
competent to  speak  of  his  professional  merit ;  but  I  am  told  by 
my  friend  Dr.  Wyman,  than  whom  no  man  living  is  better  qual- 
ified to  judge,  that  many  of  his  professional  writings  are  of  the 
highest  order  of  excellence  ;  that  his  observations  are  of  great 
value,  and  his  descriptions  of  diseases  and  their  symptoms,  con- 
sidering the  imperfection  of  the  measurement  of  time  and  the 
consequent  uncertainty  in  counting  the  pulse,  remarkable  for 
precision  and  accuracy.  There  are  among  the  writings  of  Hip- 
pocrates other  works  less  strictly  professional,  and  of  general 
interest,  embodying  the  observations  of  a  most  profound  thinker 
on  the  characters  of  men  and  nations;  showing  that  his  long 
and  various  life  had  been  actively  and  sagaciously  employed  in 
the  accumulation  of  practical  knowledge,  and  in  the  application 
of  it  to  the  service  of  the  human  race.  It  was  said  of  him, 
"  Hippocrates  is  a  man  who  knows  not  how  to  deceive  or  to 
be  deceived."  He  was  born  in  Cos,  probably  in  460  B.  C, 
—  though  there  is  considerable  doubt  as  to  the  year,  —  of  the 
family  of  the  Asclepiadae.  His  forefathers  had  long  been  at  the 
head  of  the  most  distinguished  temples  of  health,  and  he  there- 
fore inherited  the  accumulation  of  wisdom  which  they,  the  most 
illustrious  family  of  this  profession  in  the  Grecian  world,  had 
left  behind  them.  He  learned  the  rudiments  of  his  profession 
under  the  direction  of  his  father,  from  the  reports  of  cases  in 
the  Asclepieion  of  Cos,  and  was  for  a  time  under  the  tuition  of 
Herodicus,  a  physician  often  mentioned  by  Plato  as  the  one 
who  first  applied  gymnastic  exercises  to  the  cure  of  diseases, 
but  who  killed  more  than  he  cured  by  his  energetic  practice. 
He  was  educated  in  polite  learning  by  Gorgias  and  Democritus. 
Finishing  his  preliminary  studies  he  set  out  upon  his  travels 
and  visited  Delos,  Athens,   Thrace,   Thessaly,  and  probably 


THE  MEDICAL  PROFESSION.  409 

more  distant  regions,  practising  and  teaching  his  profession. 
He  is  supposed  to  have  been  in  Athens  at  the  time  of  the  great 
pestilence,  or  during  one  of  the  subsequent  attacks  of  the  dis- 
ease, and  to  have  been  consulted  by  the  magistrates  as  to  the 
best  mode  of  treating  it.  Galen,  as  quoted  by.  Dr.  Adams, 
remarks  that  "  Thucydides  gives  only  those  symptoms  which 
would  strike  a  common,  that  is,  an  unprofessional  man,  where- 
as Hippocrates  describes  the  disease  accurately,  like  a  profes- 
sional man,  but  gives  few  of  those  symptoms  which  appeared 
most  interesting  to  Thucydides."  The  historian  affirms  that 
the  skill  of  the  physicians  could  do  nothing  to  mitigate  the  se- 
verity of  the  disease.  One  of  the  traditions  relating  to  Hippoc- 
rates is  that  he  declined  large  offers  from  the  king  of  Persia  to 
pay  a  professional  visit  to  his  court.  The  reputation  of  the 
Greek  physicians  stood  high  at  the  court  of  that  monarch,  as 
we  know  from  other  sources.  Hippocrates  was  well  known  at 
Athens,  as  unquestionably  the  most  eminent  man  in  his  profes- 
sion ;  and  he  is  sometimes  represented  as  the  family  physician 
of  Pericles ;  but  how  long  he  remained  in  that  city,  and 
whether  he  resided  there  more  than  once,  is  not  known.  The 
latter  part  of  his  life  he  passed  in  Thessaly ;  and  he  died  at 
Larissa,  at  a  very  advanced  age,  the  statements  on  this  point 
varying  from  eighty-five  to  one  hundred  and  nine.  Mr. 
Clinton  places  his  death  in  B.  C.  357,  at  the  age  of  one 
hundred  and  four. 

The  writings  which  pass  under  his  name  are  very  numerous. 
They  are  not  all,  however,  supposed  to  be  genuine  ;  but  most 
of  them  belong  at  least  to  the  Coan  school.  They  are  in  the 
Ionic  dialect ;  generally,  however,  in  a  brief  and  abrupt  style, 
as  if  the  ideas  were  jotted  down  by  a  man  whose  time  was  oc- 
cupied with  professional  engagements,  and  who  was  solicitous 
only  to  preserve  the  substance.  He  was  a  person  of  the 
highest  order  of  abilities,  and,  by  character,  position,  and 
attainments,  the  worthy  associate  of  his  illustrious  contempora- 
ries, —  Pericles,  Socrates,  Euripides,  Sophocles,  Ictinus,  and 
Pheidias.      To  close  the  catalogue  of  his  professional  acoom- 


410  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

plishments,  if  we  may  take  the  bust  that  has  come  down  to  m 
as  genuine,  he  was  the  handsomest  man  of  his  age  in  Greece. 

It  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  give  the  views  of  this  distin- 
guished man  on  some  of  the  general  subjects  relating  to  his 
profession.  In  a  brief  treatise  called  "  The  Law,"  he  sums  up 
the  qualifications  of  the  good  physician.     "  Medicine,"  he  says, 

"is  of  all  the  arts  the  most  noble Whoever  is  to  acquire 

a  competent  knowledge  of  medicine  ought  to  be  possessed  of 
the  following  advantages, — a  natural  disposition,  instruction,  a 
favorable  place  for  study,  early  tuition,  love  of  labor,  leisure. 
First  of  all,  a  natural  talent  is  required ;  for  when  Nature 
opposes,  everything  else  is  vain ;  but  when  Nature  leads  the 
way  to  what  is  most  excellent,  instruction  in  the  art  takes 
place,  which  the  student  must  try  to  appropriate  to  himself  by 
reflection,  early  becoming  a  pupil  in  a  place  well  adapted  for 
instruction.  He  must  also  bring  to  the  task  love  of  labor  and 
perseverance,  so  that  the  instruction  taking  root  may  bear 
proper  and  abundant  fruits.  Instruction  in  medicine  is  like 
the  culture  of  the  productions  of  the  earth.  For  our  natural 
disposition  is,  as  it  were,  the  soil ;  the  tenets  of  our  teacher 
are,  as  it  were,  the  seed ;  instruction  in  youth  is  like  the  plant- 
ing of  the  seed  in  the  ground  at  the  proper  season  ;  the  place 
where  the  instruction  is  communicated  is  like  the  food  im- 
parted to  vegetables  by  the  atmosphere  ;  diligent  study  is 
like  the  cultivation  of  the  field ;  and  it  is  time  which  im- 
parts strength  to  all  these  things  and  brings  them  to  maturity. 
Having  brought  all  these  requisites  to  the  study  of  medicine, 
and  having  acquired  a  true  knowledge  of  it,  we  shall  thus, 
in  travelling  through  the  cities,  be  esteemed  physicians,  not 
only  in  name,  but  in  reality.  But  inexperience  is  a  bad  treas- 
ure and  a  bad  fund  to  those  who  possess  it,  whether  in  opinion 
or  reality,  being  devoid  of  contentedness,  and  the  nurse  both 
of  timidity  and  audacity.  For  timidity  betrays  a  want  of 
power,  and  audacity  a  want  of  skill.  There  are  indeed  twc 
things,  knowledge  and  opinion,  of  which  the  one  makes  it* 
possessor  really  to  know,  the  other,  to  be  ignorant." 


THE   MEDICAL   PROFESSION.  41] 

The  physician's  profession  was  regarded  as  sacred,  in  many 
points  of  view,  and  as  not  to  De  entered  upon  lightly,  or  from 
motives  of  gain.  The  Asclepiadae  were  very  rigid  in  examin- 
ing the  characters  and  overseeing  the  conduct  of  their  disciples. 
The  oath  required  of  them  is  preserved  in  the  Hippocratic 
writings,  and  is  substantially  as  follows :  "I  swear  by  Apollo, 
the  physician,  by  jEsculapius,  by  Hygeia,  by  Panaceia,  and 
all  the  gods  and  goddesses,  calling  them  to  witness,  that  I 
will  fulfil  religiously,  according  to  the  best  of  my  power  and 
judgment,  the  solemn  promise  and  the  written  bond  which  I 
now  make.  I  will  honor  as  my  parents  the  master  who  has 
taught  me  this  art,  and  endeavor  to  minister  to  all  his  necessi- 
ties. I  will  consider  his  children  as  my  own  brothers,  and  will 
teach  them  my  profession,  should  they  express  a  desire  to 
follow  it,  without  remuneration  or  written  bond.  I  will  admit 
to  my  lessons,  my  discourses,  and  all  my  other  methods  of 
teaching,  my  own  sons  and  fhose  of  my  tutor,  and  those  who 
have  been  inscribed  as  pupils  ^nd  have  taken  the  medical 
oath  ;  but  no  one  else.  I  will  prescribe  such  a  course  of  regi- 
men as  may  be  best  suited  to  the  condition  of  my  patients, 
according  to  the  best  of  my  power  and  judgment,  seeking  to 
preserve  them  from  anything  that  may  prove  injurious.  No 
inducement  shall  ever  lead  me  to  administer  poison,  nor  will  I 
ever  advise  its  administration I  will  maintain  relig- 
iously the  purity  and  integrity  both  of  my  conduct  and  my  art. 
Into  whatever  dwellings  I  may  go,  I  will  enter  them  with  the 
sole  view  of  succoring  the  sick,  will  abstain  from  all  injurious 
conduct,  and  observe  the  strictest  propriety  and  purity  of 
demeanor  towards  all.  If  during  my  attendance,  or  even  un- 
professionally  in  common  life,  I  happen  to  see  or  hear  of  any 
circumstances  which  should  not  be  revealed,  I  will  consider 
them  a  profound  secret,  and  maintain  on  the  subject  a  religiou? 
silence.  If  I  observe  this  oath,  and  do  not  break  it,  may  I 
enjoy  prosperity  in  life,  and  in  the  practice  of  my  art,  and 
obtain  general  esteem  forover ;  shomd  I  transgress  it,  and  be- 
come a  perjurer,  may  the  r  averse  be  my  lot !  " 


412  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

The  notion  formerly  entertained  that  the  ancients  were  igno- 
rant of  anatomy,  except  so  far  as  a  knowledge  of  it  might  be 
acquired  by  examining  the  skeletons  of  animals,  appears  to  be 
at  present  abandoned  in  its  absolute  form.  It  is  true  that  the 
religious  respect  entertained  for  the  bodies  of  the  dead  by  the 
Greeks  interfered  with  this  study ;  but  there  was  a  tradition 
that  the  Asclepiadae  of  Cos  possessed  a  human  skeleton,  which 
they  used  in  the  instruction  of  their  pupils,  and  which  .was 
finally  bequeathed  to  the  Temple  of  Apollo  at  Delphi.  It  is 
stated  by  Dr.  Adams,  that  the  works  of  Hippocrates  display  a 
wonderfully  minute  acquaintance  with  osteology ;  but  physiol- 
ogy, as  now  understood,  belongs  essentially  to  modern  science, 
of  which  it  is  one  of  the  noblest  triumphs.  There  were  pecu- 
liar opportunities  for  surgical  practice  in  Greece,  —  so  far  as 
external  wounds  were  concerned,  —  owing  to  the  national  pas- 
sion for  the  contests  in  the  games.  Accidents  of  a  serious 
nature,  and  often  fatal,  were  constantly  occurring;  and  the  ser- 
vices of  a  skilful  surgeon  in  setting  fractured  bones  and  reduc- 
ing dislocations  were  very  often  called  in  requisition.  The  pro- 
cesses are  minutely  described,  and  in  several  cases  are  exactly 
the  same  as  those  in  use  at  the  present  day.  For  example, 
the  method  of  reducing  the  dislocation  of  the  shoulder-joint, 
described  in  the  treatise  of  Hippocrates  on  Articulations,  cor- 
responds to  the  one  described  as  the  best  known  in  Sir  Astley 
Cooper's  work  on  Dislocation  ;  except  that  the  Greek  physi- 
cian suggests  a  modification,  to  meet  particular  cases,  which 
did  not  occur  to  Cooper. 

The  description  of  the  Iatreion,  or  Surgery,  —  a  curious 
work, — contains  minute  directions  for  the  operator,  the  patient, 
the  assistants,  the  instruments,  the  adjustment  of  the  light,  the 
position  of  the  patient,  the  kinds  of  bandages  to  be  used  in 
various  cases,  the  amount  of  compression,  the  application  of 
Bplints,  and  so  on,  with  a  clearness  and  precision  which,  to  an 
unprofessional  reader  at  least,  appear  very  remarkable.  Of 
bandaging,  for  example,  he  says :  "  It  should  be  done  quickly, 
painlessly,  neatly,  and  elegantly ;  —  quickly,   by  despatching 


THE  MEDICAL   PROFESSION.  413 

the  work ;  painlessly,  by  being  gently  done ;  neatly,  by  having 
everything  in  readiness ;  and  elegantly,  so  that  it  may  be 
agreeable  to  the  sight."  And  the  method  of  doing  all  this  is 
carefully  laid  down.  Again:  "  The  suspending  of  a  fractured 
limb  in  a  sling,  the  disposition  of  it,  and  the  bandaging,  all 
have  for  their  object  to  keep  it  in  place." 

To  illustrate  a  little  further  the  character  of  his  observations, 
allow  me  to  quote  a  few  of  his  aphorisms. 

"  Life  is  short ;  art  is  long ;  the  occasion  is  fleeting,  experi- 
ment fallacious,  and  judgment  difficult.  The  physician  must 
be  prepared  not  only  to  do  what  is  right  himself,  but  also  to 
make  the  patient,  the  attendants,  and  externals  co-operate." 

"  Old  persons  endure  fasting  most  easily ;  next,  adults ; 
young  persoas,  not  nearly  so  well ;  least  of  all,  infants ;  and 
least  of  them,  such  as  are  of  a  particularly  lively  spirit." 

"  Both  sleep  and  wakefulness,  when  immoderate,  are  bad." 

"  Neither  repletion,  nor  fasting,  nor  anything  else,  is  good, 
when  more  than  natural." 

"  When  in  a  state  of  hunger,  one  ought  not  to  undertake 
hbor." 

"  Persons  who  are  naturally  very  fat  are  apt  to  die  earlier 
than  those  who  are  slender." 

"  Those  diseases  which  medicines  do  not  cure,  iron  cures ; 
those  which  iron  does  not  cure,  fire  cures ;  and  those  which 
fire  does  not  cure  are  to  be  reckoned  as  wholly  incurable." 

In  his  dissertation  on  the  sacred  disease,  Hippocrates  combats 
the  popular  notion  with  arguments  drawn  from  observation 
and  common  sense.  In  the  course  of  the  discussion,  he  de- 
scribes graphically  several  nervous  affections,  quite  as  remark- 
able, he  thinks,  as  the  sacred  disease.  "  I  have  known  many 
persons  in  sleep  groaning  and  crying  out,  some  in  a  state  of 
suffocation,  some  jumping  up  and  running  out  of  doors,  and 
deprived  of  their  reason  until  they  awake,  and  afterwards  be- 
coming sane  and  rational  a?  before,  although  they  are  pale  and 
weak ;  and  this  will  happen  not  once,  but  frequently."  His 
opinion  on  the  sacred  disease  is :    "  They  who  first  referred 


114  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

this  disease  to  the  gods  appear  to  me  to  have  been  just  such 
persons  as  the  conjurers,  purificators,  mountebanks,  and  char- 
latans now  are,  who  give  themselves  out  as  being  excessively 
religious,  and  as  knowing  more  than  other  people."  The  tricks 
devised  by  them,  to  impose  on  the  people,  he  does  not  hesi- 
tate to  denounce  as  impious  and  unholy ;  since  "  the  disease  is 
nowise  more  divine  than  others ;  but  has  its  nature  such  as 
other  diseases  have,  and  a  cause  whence  it  originates,  and  its 
nature  and  cause  are  divine  only  just  as  much  as  all  others 
are ;  and  it  is  curable  no  less  than  others,  unless  when,  from 
length  of  time,  it  is  confirmed,  and  has  become  stronger  than 
the  remedies  applied." 

In  the  work  on  Epidemics  there  are  records  of  a  series  of 
cases  of  great  interest,  I  presume,  for  the  professional  man ;  but 
I  shall  quote  only  a  few  sentences,  to  show  how  these  things 
were  managed  by  the  ancient  physicians.  A  considerable 
number  of  these  cases  were  of  disease  brought  on  by  intem- 
perance. Thus,  "  Silenus  lived  on  the  Broad  Way,  near  the 
house  of  Eualcidas.  From  fatigue,  drinking,  and  unseason- 
able exercise,  he  was  seized  with  fever."  Then  all  the  phases 
of  the  disease  are  recorded  day  by  day,  until  his  death,  which 
occurred  on  the  eleventh  day. 

The  following  case  is  very  curious  :  "  Criton  of  Thasos, 
while  still  on  foot,  and  going  about,  was  seized  with  a  violent 
pain  in  the  great  toe  ;  took  to  his  bed  the  same  day ;  at  night, 
was  delirious.  On  the  second  day,  swelling  of  the  whole  foot ; 
acute  fever ;  became  furiously  deranged  ;  died  the  second  day 
from  the  beginning." 

Another  case  is  that  of  a  man  who  supped  in  a  heated  state, 
and  drank  more  than  enough.  The  progress  of  the  disease  is 
minutely  described  until  the  eleventh  day,  when  he  died. 

Here  is  another  case  of  intemperance :  "  In  Thasos,  Philistes 
,iad  headache  of  long  continuance,  and  sometimes  was  con- 
fined to  his  bed,  with  a  tendency  to  deep  sleep ;  having  been 
seized  with  continual  fevers  from  drinking,  the  pain  was  exa- 
cerbated "  ;  and  so  on.     "  On  the  second  day,  deafness  ;  acute 


THE  MEDICAL   PROFESSION.  415 

fever ,  .  .  .  .  delirium  about  midday.  On  the  third,  in  an  un- 
comfortable state.  On  the  fourth,  convulsions ;  all  the  symp- 
toms exacerbated.     On  the  fifth,  early  in  the  morning,  died." 

It  will  appear  by  these  records,  that  the  weaknesses,  ex- 
cesses, vices,  and  sufferings  of  men  have  always  been  the  same. 
The  consequences  of  the  violation  of  the  laws  of  health  have 
been,  as  they  still  are,  bound  by  an  adamantine  chain  to  their 
causes.  The  ancients  had  no  distilled  liquors,  it  is  true,  and 
they  escaped  some  of  the  worst  forms  of  intemperance ;  but 
if  any  scholar  ever  dreamed  that  the  intemperate  drinking 
of  wine,  in  the  genial  spirit  of  the  Anacreontic  and  symposiac 
poetry  of  the  Old  World,  could  be  habitually  practised,  and  the 
terrible  penalty  of  shattered  nerves,  broken  health,  shortened 
life,  and  a  miserable  death,  not  come  at  last,  let  him  read  the 
I'ecorded  cases  of  Hippocrates. 

The  practice  of  medicine  was  not  only  connected  with  the 
priestly  office,  but  had  close  relations  with  the  sects  of  philos- 
ophy. When  the  society  of  the  Pythagoreans  was  dispersed  by 
popular  violence,  many  of  its  members  became  vrepioSevTat,  or 
travelling  physicians,  as  distinguished  from  the  Asclepiadse,  who 
had  charge  of  the  hospitals  at  the  temples.  Alcmaeon,  Empedo- 
cles,  and  Acron  are  among  the  prominent  names  belonging  to 
this  class  of  practitioners.  The  masters  of  the  gymnasia  also 
united  the  treatment  of  diseases  with  exercises  for  strengthen- 
ing the  body.  They  regulated  the  diet,  and  prescribed  for  in- 
valids ;  and  one  class  of  the  functionaries,  called  larpaXecirrac, 
attended  to  the  practical  details  of  anointing,  rubbing,  bleeding, 
dressing  wounds,  fractures,  and  the  like.  Among  these  were 
Iccus,  and  Herodicus  who  has  been  already  mentioned.  For  a 
long  time  there  was  a  rivalry  between  the  practitioners  of  the 
gymnasia  and  the  travelling  physicians  on  the  one  side,  and 
the  temple-physicians  on  the  other.  The  Asclepiadse  long  pre- 
served the  secrets  of  their  profession ;  but  when  the  other  party 
brought  the  whole  subject  into  public  discussion,  and  seemed 
about  to  supplant  the  templars  in  the  public  confidence,  it  was 
found  expedient  to  throw  aside  the  veil  of  mystery,  and  yield 


■i  16  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

to  the  spirit  of  the  times.  The  physicians  of  Cos  and  Cnidos 
published  their  methods  and  principles ;  and  it  was  to  this 
movement  that  the  world  was  indebted  for  the  Hippocratic 
writings,  —  "a  collection,"  in  the  language  of  M.  Renouard, 
"  Avhich  threw  into  the  shade  all  the  medical  publications  of 
the  period,  and  which  constitutes  one  of  the  most  precious 
monuments  of  ancient  medicine." 


LECTURE    VIII. 

EDUCATION. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  and  significant  aspects  of  the 
life  of  Greece  is  presented  to  us  by  her  systems  of  education. 
The  spirit  of  caste,  as  we  have  already  seen,  which  lay  at  the 
foundation  of  ancient  Oriental  society,  was  unknown  in  the 
Grecian  commonwealths.  The  Greeks  seem  to  have  set  out 
upon  new  principles,  instinctively  adopted  even  before  the 
commencement  of  their  authentic  history.  The  germs  of  the 
peculiar  Greek  education  are  traceable  in  the  ideas  and  char- 
acters around  which  poetry  and  fable  have  thrown  their  bril- 
liant draperies ;  and  with  all  the  changes  introduced  by  the 
advancing  epochs  of  history,  the  same  fundamental  ideas  pre- 
vailed. Here,  as  in  other  things,  unity  in  variety  was  the  law. 
Ages  and  races  varied  from  one  another  in  details,  while  they 
shared  a  common  spirit,  which  distinguished  the  Hellenic  type 
of  civilization  from  every  other. 

The  Orient,  it  is  said,  required  a  thousand  years  for  what 
Greece  accomplished  in  a  century.  Progress  was  the  charac- 
teristic of  the  Grecian  communities,  though  not  equally  of  all. 
Some  of  the  Greeks  were  moulded  by  political  institutions  into 
a  spirit  of  reverence  for  the  past,  which  made  them  distrustful 
of  change  ;  while  others  were  eagerly  looking  forward,  and 
hastily  trying  experiments  with  their  fundamental  institu- 
tions, —  living,  in  short,  in  a  perpetual  fever  of  change  and 
reconstruction.  The  education  of  the  young  varied  in  the 
several  states  of  Greece  according  to  these  characteristic  ten- 
dencies. 

In  the  heroic  age,  the  elements  of  education  were  simple  ; 

vol.  I.  27 


418  THE  LIFE   OF  GREECE. 

but,  not  being  borrowed  from  abroad,  they  corresponded  to  the 
character  of  the  people,  and  so  became  the  natural  basis  of  the 
entire  system  of  Greek  culture.  The  aim  was  to  render  man 
energetic  in  word  and  deed,  —  able  to  make  his  influence  felt 
in  peace,  to  discharge  his  duties  bravely  and  vigorously  in  war, 
and  to  defend  himself  and  those  around  him  from  the  assaults 
of  the  wrong-doer,  from  whatsoever  quarter  he  might  come. 
The  women  were  trained  to  domestic  honor,  household  pru- 
dence and  virtue,  and  skill  in  the  accomplishments  of  spinning, 
weaving,  and  embroidery.  The  hospitalities  of  the  princely 
palaces  were  dispensed  under  their  gentle  superintendence. 

The  religious  element  —  the  belief  in  divine  power  and  in 
its  interposition  in  the  affairs  of  the  world  —  was  an  all-per- 
vading element  in  the  culture  of  the  heroic  age.  The  gods 
mingle  in  the  affairs  of  mortals ;  the  Erinnyes  pursue  the  guilty 
soul,  and  work  out  a  terrible  punishment  for  crime.  The  man 
on  whom  a  curse  has  fallen  wanders  an  outcast  over  the  face 
of  the  earth,  until  atonement  is  made,  and  the  dreadful  penalty 
is  fulfilled.  The  will  of  the  gods  is  signified  to  mortals  by 
signs,  omens,  dreams,  and  sacrifices,  which  the  prophet  or 
diviner  interprets. 

The  legend  of  Cheiron,  the  wise  Centaur,  who  trained  in 
knowledge  Asclepius,  Telamon,  Peleus,  Theseus,  Jason,  Ma- 
chaon,  Podaleirius,  and,  last  of  all,  Achilles,  the  most  renowned 
disciple  of  his  mythical  school,  is  a  singular  and  interesting 
reminiscence  of  the  earliest  heroic  education.  Some  have  re- 
solved the  legend  into  an  allegory ;  the  double  form  of  the 
Centaur  being  typical  of  the  transition  from  the  rude  and  sav- 
age state  to  milder  manners  and  a  more  humane  culture.  The 
traditional  picture  of  the  education  he  imparted  embraced  in- 
struction in  the  use  of  arms,  the  healing  art,  music,  divination, 
and  justice. 

The  principal  elements  of  Hellenic  education  —  musical  and 
gymnastic  culture  —  are  very  clearly  indicated  in  the  Homeric 
p"-  «miis.  Achilles  and  Odysseus  are  characters  which  illustrate 
I     'he  most  striking  manner  the  prominent  features  of  the  phys- 


EDUCATION.  419 

icai,  intellectual,  and  ethical  training  of  that  early  age.  The 
Achilles  of  Homer  is  the  model  of  heroic  vigor,  with  strength 
and  swiftness  unequalled,  bravery  that  shrinks  from  no  danger, 
and  sensibility  to  honor  and  friendship  which  no  fear  of  death 
can  overcome.  He  knows  no  reserve  in  the  expression  of  his 
feelings,  and  cares  for  no  consequences  in  avenging  an  insult 
or  enforcing  his  personal  rights.  Odysseus  is  the  type  of  that 
peculiar  form  of  intellectual  ability  —  the  power  of  devising 
means  for  ends,  and  of  extricating  one's  self  from  difficulty  and 
danger  —  which  in  everj-  age  commanded  the  admiration  of 
the  Greeks.  Nestor,  again,  is  the  model  of  the  wisdom  of  ex- 
perience, —  his  counsels  drawn  from  the  observations  of  a  life 
protracted  to  the  third  generation  after  those  with  whom  he 
started  on  his  career  have  disappeared.  He  indulges  in  wise 
saws,  and  makes  long  speeches,  —  sometimes  a  little  tedious, 
but  ending  at  last  in  the  best  advice  the  case  admits  of;  and, 
aged  as  he  is,  he  is  equally  ready  to  play  his  part  at  the  feast 
and  the  council-board,  —  a  hearty  old  soul,  liked  and  respected 
throughout  the  camps. 

The  child  of  the  heroic  age  is  carefully  nurtured  under  the 
supervision  of  the  nurse,  the  mother,  and  the  father.  As  he 
grows  up,  he  is  fed  on  the  richest  meat  and  the  marrow  of 
sheep.  An  attendant,  his  superior  in  age,  is  assigned  to  him, 
half  friend,  half  servant,  as  Phoenix,  first  the  friend  of  Peleus, 
afterwards  had  the  charge  of  Achilles,  —  as  Patroclus  was  the 
•ompanion,  attendant,  friend,  squire,  of  the  same  hero.  Next 
come  the  teachers  of  song  and  the  lyre,  who  even  in  these  pri- 
meval times  were  held  in  high  honor.  Orpheus,  Linus,  and 
Thamyris  are  the  traditional  types  of  the  older  masters  in  these 
arts.  Phemius  and  Demodocus  appear  in  some  of  the  most 
graceful  scenes  of  the  Odyssey;  and  Achilles  himself  solaces 
the  weary  hours  of  inactivity  by  singing  the  lays  of  heroes  in 
his  tent.  The  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  —  the  one  to  be 
practised,  the  other  to  be  avoided  —  is  carefully  instilled  into 
the  mind  of  the  young  chief;  and  maxims  of  civil  prudence 
embodying  the  experience  of  the  past—  referring  to  the  life 


■420  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE 

of  men,  the  worship  of  the  gods,  the  principles  of  humanity, 
the  duties  to  one's  country,  and  the  obligations  of  friendship 
and  hospitality  —  are  interwoven  in  the  Homeric  poems,  and 
doubtless  comprise  much  of  the  educational  wisdom  of  the 
times.  Reverence  for  the  aged  and  affection  for  parents  are 
constantly  inculcated.  These  sentiments  and  sayings  consti- 
tute the  groundwork  of  the  remarkable  eloquence  which  dis- 
tinguishes so  many  of  the  debates  in  council,  represented  in 
the  Iliad,  and  doubtless  copied  in  their  leading  outlines  from 
the  life  of  the  poet's  own  age. 

Whether  the  young  men  of  the  heroic  age  were  taught  the 
use  of  letters  is  a  much  disputed  question.  The  weight  of 
tradition  in  antiquity  is  wholly  in  favor  of  the  early  knowledge 
of  the  art  of  writing,  and  the  consequent  instruction  of  the 
young  in  its  use ;  and  this  is  something,  notwithstanding  Wolf's 
elaborate  attempt  to  prove  that  even  Homer  did  not  know  how 
to  read  and  write.  But  when  we  add  to  this  the  facts,  at 
present  unquestionable,  that  the  art  and  the  materials  of  writ- 
ing existed  in  Egypt  more  than  two  thousand  years  before, 
that  the  Phoenicians  borrowed  the  art  from  them  many  cen- 
turies before  Homer,  and  that  commercial  intercourse  existed 
between  Phoenicia  and  Greece  from  the  earliest  times,  I  think 
we  cannot  well  avoid  the  admission  that  the  contemporaries, 
if  not  the  predecessors,  of  Homer  might  have  known  their 
A,  B,  C. 

After  the  Homeric  age,  the  three  leading  divisions  of  the 
Hellenic  race  came  more  prominently  and  distinctly  forward, 
and  the  methods  and  principles  of  education  among  them  cor- 
responded to  these  modifications  of  the  national  character. 
The  outlines  of  the  several  types  have  already  been  presented. 
The  jEolians  of  Boeotia  made  gymnastics  and  music  the  basis 
of  their  education.  The  tones  of  the  flute  were  supposed  by 
their  lawgivers  to  temper  the  violence  of  the  passions,  and  to 
produce  a  favorable  effect  on  the  moral  condition.  The  music 
of  the  lyre  was  equally  cultivated.  In  early  times  the  dis- 
cipline  of  the  young  in  this  part  of  Greece  appears  to  have 


EDUCATION.  421 

produced  a  high  degree  of  order  and  obedience  to  law.  Simi- 
lar ideas  prevailed  in  the  other  JEolian  communities,  both  on 
the  European  continent  and  in  the  -/Eolian  cities  of  the  jEgean 
Sea  and  of  Asia  Minor. 

Sparta,  as  we  have  already  seen,  was  the  principal  seat  of 
Dorian  education,  which  was  completely  interwoven  with  the 
political  institutions.  It  was  wholly  subject  to  law,  and  subor- 
dinated to  the  interests  of  the  state ;  the  fundamental  principle 
being  the  subjection  of  the  individual  will  unconditionally  to 
the  collective  will  of  the  community.  The  new-born  child  was 
taken  to  the  Lesche,  and  submitted  to  the  inspection  of  the 
grave  and  reverend  seniors,  who  decided  whether  he  was  worth 
rearing  or  not.  If  his  promising  appearance  led  to  a  favorable 
decision,  he  was  allowed  to  remain  in  the  paternal  mansion 
until  his  seventh  year,  under  the  care  of  the  mother  and  nurse. 
Nurses  in  Sparta  were  held  in  especial  regard,  and  were  al- 
lowed to  celebrate  an  annual  festival,  called  the  Tithenidia, 
or  nurse-day.  The  law  required  that  the  limbs  of  the  infant 
should  not  be  constrained  by  swathing-clothes.  At  the  age 
of  seven  the  child  belonged  to  the  state,  and  was  subjected 
to  the  rules  and  regulations  of  public  instruction.  The  first 
and  principal  object  here  attended  to  was  the  development 
of  the  bodily  powers  by  gymnastic  exercises.  Reading,  writ- 
ing, and  other  branches  of  learning,  though  not  absolutely 
neglected,  were  by  no  means  made  so  prominent  as  in  Athens. 
The  poems  of  Homer  were  used  as  a  means  of  education  here, 
as  well  as  in  other  parts  of  Greece.  The  didactic  compositions 
of  the  later  poets,  Tyrtaeus  and  Alcman,  were  also  learned  by 
heart  in  the  schools,  or  by  frequent  recitation  at  meals  or  festi- 
vals, and  on  military  expeditions.  The  tunes  of  the  ancient 
musical  composers  were  thoroughly  taught,  in  study  and  prac- 
tice, from  the  earliest  years ;  and  all  were  obliged  to  learn 
them.  What  was  done  to  those  unfortunate  persons  who  had 
no  ear,  we  are  nowhere  informed.  In  speech,  the  young  Spar- 
Wn  was  required  to  cultivate  the  habit  of  brevity,  —  called 
brachyhgia,  —  condensing  the  greatest  amount  of  meaning  into 


422  THE  LIFE   OF  GREECE. 

the  fewest  words.  Many  of  these  Laconic  sayings  were  cur- 
rent in  the  ancient  world,  and  have  been  handed  down  by 
Plutarch  and  others  to  our  times.  They  hated  eloquence, 
and  proscribed  the  rhetoricians.  To  an  ambassador  from  one 
of  the  islands  in  the  JEgean,  who  at  a  time  of  famine  asked 
assistance  in  a  moving  speech,  they  said,  "  We  do  not  under- 
stand the  conclusion,  and  we  have  forgotten  the  beginning." 
Another  ambassador  was  sent,  who,  without  saying  a  word,  ex- 
hibited an  empty  sack ;  and  the  assembly  unanimously  decreed 
to  supply  the  petitioners  with  provisions.  A  young  Spartan, 
travelling  in  some  other  part  of  Greece,  took  it  into  his  head  to 
become  an  orator.  On  his  return  he  was  punished  by  the 
magistrate  for  attempting  to  impose  on  the  understanding  of  his 
countrymen.  Sometimes  their  sharp  replies  embodied  wisdom 
as  well  as  rebuke.  An  old  man  once  complained  to  King  Agis 
that  all  was  lost,  because  some  violation  of  the  laws  had  taken 
place.  He  replied,  "  Quite  true  ;  I  remember,  when  I  was  a 
boy,  I  heard  my  father  say  that,  when  he  was  a  boy,  he  heard 
my  grandfather  say  the  same  thing."  Yet  it  would  seem  that, 
in  the  time  of  Sparta's  supremacy,  the  able  men  who  con- 
iucted  her  foreign  affairs  must  have  placed  themselves  in  a 
2ondition  to  meet  the  representatives  of  other  states,  and  to 
speak  in  popular  assemblies,  on  a  footing  of  equality ;  and  ac- 
.ording  to  Thucydides,  who  records  many  speeches  of  Spartan 
ambassadors  and  generals,  this  was  actually  the  case. 

The  sciences  were  not  admitted  within  the  range  of  Spartan 
education  ;  but  dancing  —  especially  war-dances  —  was  a  lead- 
ing subject  of  attention.  The  gymnastic  training  of  the  women 
has  already  been  spoken  of.  The  result  of  the  whole  system — 
a  highly  artificial  system  it  was  certainly — exhibited  for  a  time 
a  race  of  men  of  unexampled  hardihood,  and  of  women  whose 
beauty  was  celebrated  all  over  Greece,  and  whose  heroism  fills 
some  of  the  brightest  pages  of  ancient  history. 

The  Doric  education  was  long  and  firmly  retained  in  Crete, 
with  some  local  peculiarities  of  detail.  The  domestic  train- 
ing here  continued  till  the  seventeenth  year,  when  the  boys 


EDUCATION.  423 

were  admitted  into  a  body  called  the  ayeXij,  or  herd,  and  be- 
came thenceforth  subjected  to  the  hard  discipline  of  public 
education.  They  remained  in  this  stage  ten  years,  during 
which  they  participated  in  the  public  meals  of  the  men,  but 
received  only  a  half-allowance,  and  were  under  the  charge 
of  an  officer  called  the  iratZovofio<i,  or  superi?itendent  of  boys, 
being  themselves  called  (tkotioi,  shady,  because  of  the  mod- 
est retirement  in  which  they  passed  this  period  of  their  no- 
vitiate. Their  time  was  chiefly  occupied  here,  as  in  Sparta, 
with  gymnastic  exercises  and  instruction  in  the  simple  tunes 
of  the  Dorian  music.  Songs  commemorating  the  deeds  of  an- 
cient heroes  were  transmitted  orally  from  father  to  son ;  hymns 
and  poems  in  honor  of  the  gods  were  learned  by  heart,  and 
rhythmically  recited ;  and  even  the  laws  were  composed  in 
verse,  and  chanted  by  the  professors  to  their  pupils. 

These  are  the  most  characteristic  points  of  the  Dorian  disci- 
pline. It  embodied  many  admirable  principles ;  but  as  it  aimed 
to  force  the  nature  of  man  into  forms  not  congenial  to  his  in- 
stinctive feelings,  it  maintained  only  a  temporary  supremacy. 
The  Dorian  principles  and  character  resisted  the  tendency  to 
dissolution  longer  in  Sparta  and  Crete  than  elsewhere  ;  but 
even  there,  human  nature  could  not  be  permanently  sup- 
pressed ;  and  the  work  of  Lycurgus,  and  the  stout  leaders  who 
followed  him,  went  to  ruin  without  the  possibility  of  revival  or 
restoration.  When  an  attempt  was  made  to  call  back  the  an- 
cient spirit  in  the  days  of  the  Achaean  League,  it  was  found  to 
be  the  dream  of  a  pedant,  hopeless  as  the  return  of  a  fossil 
skeleton  to  the  life  of  the  primeval  ages.  In  the  Sicilian  and 
Italian  colonies,  corruption  and  overthrow  came  with  speedier 
foot;  and  in  proportion  to  the  rigid  restraints  to  which  the 
passions  were  subjected  were  the  excesses  into  which  they 
ran  when  the  checks  gave  way  and  the  bonds  were  snapped 
asunder. 

As  in  other  things,  so  in  education,  Athens  was  the  great 
centre  of  Hellenic  culture.  Nowhere  else  was  it  possible  for  a 
youth  to  acquire  an  education  which  could  with  propriety  be 


424  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

called  liberal.  Indeed,  nowhere  else  was  the  term  liberal  edu- 
cation employed.  The  spirit  of  Solon's  legislation  was  in  this 
respect  quite  contrary  to  that  of  Lycurgus,  as  the  spirit  of  the 
Ionian  race  in  general  was  more  free,  discursive,  and  compre- 
hensive than  that  of  the  Dorians ;  for  it  is  the  character  of  a 
race,  however  formed,  which  is  the  germ  of  the  systems  and 
institutions  that  mark  the  stages  of  its  historical  development. 
Attica  had  been  less  disturbed  by  foreign  inroads  than  other 
parts  of  Greece ;  a  more  homogeneous  population  tilled  its 
fields,  and  dwelt  in  its  towns ;  and  intellectual  culture  here  un- 
folded itself  in  a  more  natural  order,  and  to  a  higher  stage  of 
perfection,  than  elsewhere.  It  was  the  well-founded  boast  of 
Athenian  writers,  that  Athens  opened  a  safe  refuge  to  exiles 
from  other  cities,  and  offered  to  visitors  from  every  part  of  the 
world  the  most  abundant  means  of  entertainment  and  instruc- 
tion. The  ruinous  conflicts  between  the  orders  of  society  were 
appeased  by  the  wise  and  statesmanlike  legislation  of  Solon, 
which  secured  a  basis  of  political  rights  and  domestic  freedom 
unknown  under  the  rival  institutions  of  Sparta.  Intercourse 
with  the  best  examples  of  virtue  and  honor  was  a  powerful 
means  of  elevating  the  sentiments  of  the  rising  generation ;  and 
the  highest  crime  against  the  state  was  the  corruption  of  the 
young.  The  unwritten  laws  of  noble  conduct — the  traditional 
wisdom  of  an  illustrious  ancestry  —  blended  with  the  influ- 
ence of  formal  institutions  and  positive  enactments  to  form  the 
type  of  the  Attic  character.  The  methods  and  principles  of 
education  varied,  however,  from  time  to  time ;  the  most  re- 
markable revolution  taking  place  about  the  period  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  war. 

The  birth  and  the  naming  of  a  child  were  celebrated  with 
festivals  and  rejoicings.  The  name  of  the  first  son  was  usu- 
ally that  of  his  paternal  grandfather,  as  Callias,  the  son  of  Hip- 
ponicus,  the  son  of  Callias.  The  Clouds  of  Aristophanes 
contains  an  amusing  sketch  of  a  quarrel  between  the  rustic 
Strepsiades  and  his  fashionable  city  wife  about  naming  their 
hopeful  son. 


EDUCATION.  426 

"  Well,  when  at  last  to  me  and  my  good  woman 
This  hopeful  son  was  born,  our  son  and  heir, 
Why,  then  we  took  to  wrangling  on  the  name. 
She  was  for  giving  him  some  knightly  name,  — 
Callipides,  Xanthippus,  or  Charippus  ; 
I  wished  Pheidonides,  his  grandpa's  name. 
So  for  a  time  we  argued ;  till  at  last 
We  compromised  it  in  Pheidippides. 
The  boy  she  took,  and  used  to  fondle,  saying, 
*  When  you  grow  up,  and  drive  the  stately  car, 
In  purple  clad,  like  Megacles,  your  uncle.' 
I  used  to  say,  '  When  you  grow  up  and  drive 
The  goats  from  Phelleus,  clad  in  leather  jerkin, 
Like  me,  your  father.'  " 

The  care  and  training  of  the  child's  early  years  were  com- 
mitted to  the  mother  and  the  nurse.  A  nurse  from  Sparta  was 
always  considered  a  great  blessing,  because  these  nurses  not 
only  understood  the  management  of  the  diet,  but  knew  how  to 
regulate  and  govern  the  temper,  to  stop  the  crying,  which  was 
deemed  a  great  nuisance  in  an  Attic  baby,  and  to  quell  childish 
fears,  in  particular  the  fear  of  such  spectres  as  used  to  haunt 
the  classical  nursery.  Cradles,  either  rocking,  swinging,  or 
basket-shaped,  helped  to  lull  the  young  Athenian  to  sleep. 
Nursery-songs  lent  the  aid  of  sweet  voices  and  harmony  to 
this  most  desirable  object.  Says  the  proud  mother  in  The- 
ocritus :  — 

"  Sleep,  ye  that  on  my  breast  have  lain, 
The  slumber  sweet  and  light, 
And  wake,  my  glorious  twins,  again 

To  glad  your  mother's  sight. 
0  happy,  happy  be  your  dreams, 

And  blest  your  waking  be, 
When  morning's  gold  and  ruddy  beams 
Restore  your  smiles  to  me." 

Athenseus  gives  an  account  of  these  classical  lullabies.  A 
great  importance  was  attributed  to  the  early  influence  of  nurses, 
both  by  the  Greeks  and  Romans.  The  word  babia,  baby,  is 
said  to  have  been  in  use  among  the  Syrians  long  before  Greek 
history  commenced  ;  and  Menage  traces  it  with  some  probabil 


426  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

ity  up  to  the  tower  of  Babel.  Injudicious  mothers  used  to 
frighten  naughty  children  into  good  behavior  by  stories  about 
the  goblin  Empusa,  or  Onoscelis,  a  monster  that  haunted  the 
shades,  and  roved  through  dark  rooms  and  secret  passages. 
Lamia,  who  once  had  been  a  beautiful  woman,  the  object  of 
love  to  Zeus  himself,  was  now  a  witch,  and  occupied  herself 
with  the  destruction  of  children.  The  Kobaloi,  wild  spirits  of 
the  woods,  were  another  object  of  superstitious  terror,  brought 
to  bear  on  the  imagination  of  the  Grecian  infant.  The  earliest 
toy  that  diverted  childhood  was  the  rattle,  invented  by  Archy- 
tas  the  philosopher,  —  a  man  of  immense  genius,  seven  times 
elected  a  general  by  his  native  city,  and  said  to  have  been 
admired  for  his  domestic  virtues.  But  when  I  remember  the 
nuisance  he  bequeathed  to  the  world,  I  read  with  less  regret 
Horace's  story  of  his  drowning.  Colored  balls  and  little  wag- 
Dns  next  occupied  the  child's  attention.  Painted  dolls,  made 
of  clay,  were  to  be  had  in  the  market,  and  received  the 
caresses  of  the  girls.  Making  boats,  building  mud-houses, 
framing  go-carts  out  of  leather,  or  cutting  pomegranates  into 
the  shape  of  frogs,  served  to  fill  up  the  time  which  then,  as 
now,  hung  heavily  on  the  hands  of  the  future  citizen.  Strepsi- 
ades,  whose  authority  has  already  been  given,  describing  the 
precocious  abilities  of  his  son,  says :  — 

"  He  is  a  lad  of  parts,  and  from  a  child 
Took  wondrously  to  dabbling  in  the  mud, 
Whereof  he  'd  build  you  up  a  house  so  natural 
As  would  amaze  you,  trace  you  out  a  ship, 
Make  you  a  little  cart  out  of  the  sole 
Of  an  old  shoe,  mayhap,  and  from  the  rind 
Of  a  pomegranate  cut  you  out  a  frog, 
You  'd  swear  it  was  alive." 

Whipping  the  top,  driving  the  hoop,  tying  strings  to  the  legs 
of  beetles  and  letting  them  fly  off  only  to  be  pulled  back 
again,  blind-man's-buff,  hide  and  seek,  pickapack,  leap-frog, 
hot-cockles,  ducks  and  drakes,  hiding  the  rope,  forfeits,  bob- 
cherry,  games  at  ball,  odd  or  even,  and  a  thousand  other  sport* 


EDUCATION  427 

of  childhood,  are  described  or  alluded  to  by  ancient  writers, 
and  have  been  learnedly  discussed  by  the  moderns. 

At  the  age  of  seven,  the  superintendence  of  the  nurse  was 
dispensed  with,  and  the  boy  was  placed  under  the  charge  of 
the  pedagogue,  who  was  generally  one  of  the  domestic  slaves. 
Under  the  care  of  this  attendant  he  was  sent  to  the  school  of 
the  teacher  of  letters.  Schools  of  this  description  existed  as 
early  as  Solon,  who  enacts  in  his  laws  that  the  teachers  of 
boys  shall  not  open  their  schools  before  sunrise,  nor  keep  them 
open  after  sunset.  Here  they  learned  their  letters,  which 
meant  learning  the  alphabet,  spelling,  and  reading.  The  na- 
ture of  boys,  and  the  necessity  of  reducing  them  to  order  and 
due  subordination,  were  pretty  thoroughly  understood  by  the 
Greek  philosophers.  "  A  boy,"  says  Plato,  "  is  the  most  fero- 
cious of  animals  "  ;  and  in  another  place  he  says,  "  Man  is  in- 
tended to  be  a  mild  and  gentle  creature.  If  he  be  endowed 
with  a  fortunate  nature,  and  attain  the  right  education,  he  may 
oecome  the  most  amiable  and  divine  of  living  beings  ;  not  edu- 
cated sufficiently  or  nobly,  he  is  the  wildest  beast  the  earth 
produces."  The  training  of  the  schools  was  not  wanting  in 
exactness  and  severity.  The  rod  was  not  spared  as  a  potent 
instrument  in  teaching.  On  the  interesting  subject  of  vaca- 
tions we  have  no  details  ;  but  it  is  stated  that,  when  the  master 
was  ill,  a  notice  was  posted  up  with  the  welcome  announce- 
ment, "  No  school  to-day." 

The  sum  and  substance  of  Athenian  education  are  well  and 
briefly  described  by  Plato  in  his  Protagoras.  "  Beginning 
with  early  childhood,"  says  he,  "  they  teach  and  discipline  the 
young ;  and  discipline  is  continued  through  life.  As  soon  as 
the  child  can  understand  what  is  said,  nurse  and  mother,  mas- 
ter and  the  father  himself,  contend  with  one  another  to  make 
him  as  good  as  possible,  teaching  by  every  act  and  word ; 
pointing  out  that  this  is  just,  and  that  is  unjust ;  this  is  honor- 
able, and  that  is  shameful ;  this  is  pious,  and  that  is  impious ; 
do  the  one,  do  not  the  other;  and  if  he  goes  astray,  they 
*reat  him  as  a  crooked  stick,  and  straighten  him  by  threats 


428  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

and  blows.  Next,  sending  him  to  the  schoolmaster,  they  are 
more  urgent  in  requiring  him  to  look  after  the  manners  and 
morals  of  the  youth,  than  after  his  letters  and  music.  And 
when  he  comes  to  the  study  of  literature,  thty  place  before 
him  the  works  of  distinguished  poets,  and  compel  him  to  learn 
them  by  heart,  —  especially  the  admonitions,  narratives,  and 
eulogies  of  the  great  men  of  former  ages,  to  the  end  that  the 
youth  may  imitate  them,  and  earnestly  strive  to  become  him- 
self such  as  they  were.  Again,  the  teachers  of  the  harp  look 
carefully  to  virtuous  habits ;  and  the  pupils  are  required  to 
learn  the  compositions  of  other  poets,  ■ —  the  lyrical,  —  accom- 
panying them  with  tunes  on  the  harp ;  and  the  rhythms  and 
the  harmonies  are  made  familiar  to  the  souls  of  the  young,  in 
order  that  they  may  be  more  gentle,  and  that,  becoming  more 
rhythmical  and  harmonious,  they  may  be  better  men  in  speech 
and  action  ;  for  the  whole  life  of  man  needs  rhythm  and  har- 
mony. Next  they  send  them  to  the  gymnasium,  that,  having 
more  efficient  bodies,  they  may  the  better  minister  to  virtuous 
minds,  and  that  they  may  not  be  compelled  to  play  the  coward, 
on  account  of  the  evil  condition  of  their  bodies,  whether  in  war 
or  in  the  other  affairs  of  life.  When  they  leave  the  schools, 
the  state  requires  them  to  learn  the  laws,  and  to  live  after  the 
pattern  they  furnish,  that  they  may  not  act  at  random,  accord- 
ing to  their  own  caprices.  For  as  the  writing-master  directs 
by  strokes  the  hands  of  those  not  yet  skilled  in  the  art,  so  the 
state,  laying  down  laws  devised  by  illustrious  legislators  of  an- 
cient times,  requires  the  citizen  both  to  govern  and  to  obey  ac- 
cording to  them,  and  punishes  him  who  steps  aside  from  their 
path."  This  remarkable  passage  from  the  eloquent  philoso- 
pher gives  a  brief  but  comprehensive  outline  of  ancient  Athe- 
nian education,  embracing  literature,  music,  gymnastics,  and 
law ;  neither  of  these  branches  being  confined  to  any  par- 
ticular class  or  profession,  but  all  being  thought  necessary  to 
the  education  of  the  citizen  who  should  be  able,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Milton,  "to  perform  justly,  wisely,  and  magnani 
mously  all  the  duties  both  of  peace  and  war." 


EDUCATION.  429 

The  schools  were  private  institutions,  but  to  some  extent 
under  the  supervision  of  the  state.  Among  the  reforms  sug- 
gested by  Plato  was  the  establishment  of  a  common-school  sys- 
tem at  the  public  charge.  The  study  of  the  myths,  and  of 
those  traditions  in  which  the  public  religion  embodied  itself, 
was  connected  with  the  earliest  lessons  in  reading  and  writing. 
This,  however,  was  a  part  of  instruction  in  which  the  greatest 
discretion  was  required,  so  as  not  to  crowd  young  minds  with 
images  of  terror,  which,  in  the  vivid  language  of  Lucian,  would 
"  haunt  them  all  their  life  long,  and  make  them  frightened  at 
every  rustling  sound,  filling  them  with  every  species  of  super- 
stition." The  musical  instruction  had  in  view  not  only  the 
ethical  effect  pointed  out  by  Plato,  but  the  further  practical 
object  of  qualifying  the  young  to  take  part  in  the  recitation  of 
poems  and  other  rhythmical  and  musical  compositions  at  the 
great  festivals.  Instruction  in  arithmetic  and  geometry,  the 
latter  of  which  Plato  considered  to  be  of  the  highest  value 
in  sharpening  and  invigorating  the  mental  faculties,  as  well  as 
of  essential  use  in  its  application  to  the  business  of  life,  was  in- 
cluded in  the  course.  In  these  sciences,  the  Greeks  attained 
a  great  proficiency.  Their  works  upon  them  were  numerous, 
and  their  terminology  accurate  and  well  defined. 

Declamation,  and  the  repetition  of  passages  from  the  poets, 
are  often  alluded  to.  In  Xenophon's  Symposium,  one  of  the 
collocutors,  Niceratus,  says,  "  My  father,  who  superintended  my 
education,  required  me  to  learn  all  the  poems  of  Homer,  and 
even  now  I  could  repeat  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  by  heart." 
Particular  care  was  taken  to  teach  a  correct  pronunciation  and 
accent,  and  a  proper  management  of  the  voice,  as  well  as  a 
rhythmical  delivery.  The  ethical  and  didactic  verses  of  Si- 
monides,  Theognis,  and  Phocylides  were  highly  esteemed  as 
means  of  instruction,  and  much  used  in  the  schools ;  and  these 
were  accompanied  with  a  critical  investigation  of  the  power  of 
letters,  syllables,  harmonies,  and  rhythms.  The  liberal  educa- 
tion of  the  Athenian  young  men,  however,  extended  beyond 
the  formal  schools,  in  which  the  rudiments  of  science  and  liter- 


430  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

ature  were  taught,  to  the  lessons  of  the  rhetoricians  and  phi- 
losophers. Becoming  manners  and  a  noble  tone  of  thought,  ir. 
contrast  with  a  vulgar  rudeness  and  a  coarse  disposition,  acute- 
ness  and  vigor  of  intellect,  a  refined  taste,  and  purity  of  moral 
feeling,  were  the  general  aims  of  Athenian  education. 

Gymnastic  exercises  formed  an  essential  element  in  the 
system.  In  childhood,  only  the  lighter  kinds  of  exercises  were 
admitted  into  the  course  of  training.  Swimming  appears  to 
have  been  practised  early  ;  so  that  it  was  a  proverbial  expres- 
sion, significant  of  utter  ignorance,  "to  know  neither  swimming 
nor  letters."  Severer  exercises  were  probably  practised  about 
the  tenth  year,  and  the  pancration  not  until  the  fourteenth ; 
so  that  the  physical  education,  under  the  various  teachers 
designated  by  the  names  of  paidotribai,  trainers  of  boys,  gym- 
nastai,  masters  of  the  gymnasia,  aleiptai,  anointers,  went  on 
gradually  and  regularly,  corresponding  very  closely  with  the 
education  of  the  intellect.  The  first  two  classes  of  teachers 
were  specially  occupied  with  instruction  in  single  kinds  of  ex- 
ercises ;  and  the  aleiptai  superintended  the  diet,  as  has  been 
already  stated.  The  gymnasia  and  the  wrestling  schools,  or 
palaestrse,  were  places  where  the  physical  training  was  carried 
on,  not  only  in  youth,  but  as  a  habit  of  mature  life.  A  distinc- 
tion was  made  between  gymnastics,  or  physical  training  as  a 
means  of  health  and  strength,  and  the  athletic  training  by 
which  men  were  fitted  for  the  contests  in  the  games.  In  the 
Ionic  states,  girls  and  women  took  no  part  in  gymnastics.  The 
gymnasium  consisted  of  a  peristyle,  twelve  hundred  feet  in  cir- 
cumference, with  one  row  of  pillars  on  three  sides,  and  two  on 
the  fourth ;  but  the  details  are  not  very  clearly  made  out.  The 
porticos  on  three  sides  were  furnished  with  seats  for  the  philoso- 
phers, sophists,  and  other  privileged  persons.  On  the  fourth 
side  was  the  ephebeion,  for  the  ephebi ;  and  on  the  right  and 
eft  the  rooms  for  undressing,  anointing,  the  cold  bath,  and  the 
hot  bath.  In  the  rear  were  porticos  for  various  exercises,  with 
margins  for  the  spectators.  At  the  end  was  the  stadium  for 
the  race-course.     There  were  three  chief  gymnasia  at  Athens. 


EDUCATION.  431 

Great  pains  and  expense  were  bestowed  in  ornamenting  them 
with  statues  of  gods,  heroes,  victors  in  the  games,  and  eminent 
men.  After  the  gymnastic  training  came  the  orchestric;  or 
instruction  and  practice  in  those  graceful  and  elaborate  move- 
ments wherein  great  mimetic  skill  was  acquired,  to  be  em- 
ployed especially  for  performance  in  the  choral  exhibitions 
which  embellished  the  festivals.  The  object  of  this  branch  of 
education  was  to  give  to  motion,  attitude,  and  physical  action 
the  highest  degree  of  rhythmical  expression.  Later  still  came 
exercise  in  the  use  of  arms,  in  riding,  and  perhaps  in  tactics, 
as  a  preparation  for  military  duties. 

These  were  the  points  of  Athenian  education.  With  the 
progress  of  society,  and  the  increase  of  philosophical  studies, 
the  subjects  of  instruction  were  multiplied  and  extended,  while 
the  business  of  education  had  a  most  intimate  connection  with 
the  duties  of  citizens  under  a  free  constitution.  The  lectures 
of  the  philosophers  and  rhetoricians  were,  of  course,  attended 
only  by  young  men  of  leisure,  and  particularly  by  those  who 
aspired  to  take  an  ambitious  part  in  the  affairs  of  state,  by  the 
exercise  of  the  arts  of  persuasion.  The  study  of  rhetoric,  with 
practice  in  dialectics,  assumed  a  proud  position.  Isocrates, 
having  listened  to  the  discourses  of  Gorgias,  Prodicus,  and 
Socrates,  and  being  prevented  by  some  physical  infirmity  from 
engaging  in  public  life,  established  a  school  of  rhetoric  in 
Athens,  which  became  one  of  the  most  celebrated  in  Greece. 
In  one  of  his  discourses,  —  that  on  the  Exchange  of  Estates, 
—  he  describes  his  manner  of  life  and  his  occupations  as  a 
teacher.  He  kept  aloof  from  political  affairs,  from  courts  of 
law,  from  assemblies,  and  devoted  himself  to  compositions  on 
the  general  interests  of  the  Greeks,  by  which  he  gained  so 
much  reputation  that  many  desired  to  become  his  disciples,  for 
the  purpose  of  acquiring  wisdom  and  virtue.  Some  of  these 
pupils  remained  with  him  three  years,  and  became  so  strongly 
attached  to  their  residence  and  their  teacher,  that,  when  they 
closed  their  course,  they  bade  him  farewell  with  a  heavy  heart 
and  with  tears.  Many  of  these  scholars  wer°  afterwards  lead 
ng  men  in  the  historv  of  their  times. 


432  THE  LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

The  sons  of  sovereigns  in  Thessaly,  Macedonia,  and  Thrace 
—  though  these  countries  were  regarded  as  only  half  civilized 
by  the  haughty  inheritors  of  pure  Hellenic  blood  —  were  care- 
fully educated  in  Greek  learning.  Philip  received  his  educa- 
tion in  Thebes.  Others  were  brought  up  by  private  tutors, 
invited  to  the  court,  and  supported  there  on  the  most  liberal 
allowance.  Alexander,  having  passed  his  earliest  years  under 
Leonidas  and  Lysimachus,  had  the  good  fortune  to  enjoy  the 
instructions  of  the  philosopher  of  Stagira  in  ethics,  politics, 
philosophy,  and  rhetoric,  to  which  he  added  an  extensive 
course  in  poetry,  particularly  in  Homer  and  the  Tragedians. 
Music,  gymnastics,  the  use  of  arms,  and  riding  were  taught 
him  by  the  best  masters  that  the  wealth  and  wisdom  of  his 
royal  father  could  find  or  command. 

The  education  of  girls  at  Athens  was  commonly  much  more 
restricted,  and  the  book-knowledge  they  acquired  was  very  lim- 
ited. They  were  trained  in  the  principles  of  virtuous  conduct, 
and  with  sound  ideas  of  domestic  duty ;  but  they  do  not  appear 
to  have  had  much  literary  culture.  Cleobulus  said,  "  Let  your 
daughters,  when  you  give  them  in  marriage,  though  girls  in 
age,  be  women  in  understanding"  ;  —  "by  which,"  says  Dioge- 
nes Laertius,  "he  implies  that  even  girls  should  be  instructed." 
Greater  freedom  was  allowed  to  women,  at  least  in  the  earlier 
times,  among  the  ^Eolians,  as  the  lives  of  Sappho,  Corinna, 
and  other  poetesses,  show ;  for  they  were  not  only  trained  in 
the  arts  of  poetry  and  song,  but  were  allowed  to  compete  with 
nen  for  the  public  prizes. 

Purity  of  manners,  a  wise  administration  of  the  house,  and  a 
quiet  and  modest  demeanor  were  accounted  at  Athens  the  fore- 
most virtues  of  thf*  female  sex.  We  hear  but  little  of  distin- 
guished women,  known  extensively  to  the  public,  excepting 
those  brilliant  and  somewhat  daring  persons  who  set  at  defi- 
ance the  usages  of  society,  cultivated  music,  philosophy,  and 
eloquence,  and  drew  ai'ound  them  a  brilliant  circle  of  men,  like 
the  celebrated  queens  of  the  saloons  in  the  time  of  the  old 
French  monarchy.      Such  was  Diotima,   whose  society  wai 


EDUCATION.  433 

highly  prized  by  Socrates  himself,  who,  as  the  philosopher  con- 
fesses, taught  him  the  theory  of  love,  and  whose  opinions  are 
so  amusingly  detailed  by  him,  in  his  discourse  at  the  sympo- 
sium of  Agathon.  Such,  too,  was  Aspasia,  who  was  enabled 
by  her  attractive  eloquence,  her  splendid  beauty,  and  her  posi- 
tion as  the  second  wife  of  Pericles,  to  break  down  the  barriers 
of  ancient  reserve,  and  to  gather  around  her  the  most  gifted 
men  and  women  of  Athens  ;  —  such  as  the  poets  Sophocles 
and  Euripides ;  the  philosopher  Anaxagoras ;  Pheidias,  the 
sculptor ;  Socrates,  playing  the  beau,  and  accompanying  the 
wives  and  daughters  of  his  friends,  (not  his  own,  for  Xanthippe 
would  not  have  made  much  of  a  figure  in  such  society,)  —  all 
enjoying  the  pleasures  of  rational  conversation  and  refined  wit. 
Scandal  dealt  freely  with  the  characters  of  these  women  ;  but 
there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  there  existed  any  ground  for 
imputations  on  their  moral  conduct.  What  deductions  should 
be  made,  on  account  of  contemporary  exaggerations,  from  the 
traditions  of  their  age  with  regard  to  other  saloons  and  their 
mistresses,  we  cannot  easily  determine. 

If  we  take  into  view  the  general  scope  of  Athenian  litera- 
ture, I  think  we  shall  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  position 
of  woman,  though  not  so  prominent  as  in  some  of  the  jEolian 
and  Dorian  communities,  was  happy,  respectable,  and  powerful 
in  the  sphere  of  domestic  life ;  and  that  her  education,  though 
not  distinguished  for  the  prominent  cultivation  of  the  intellect, 
yet  was  not  deficient  in  the  opportunities  of  imbuing  the  mind 
with  the  spirit  of  the  national  poetry,  religion,  and  even  the 
fine  arts ;  while  the  experience  of  life  made  her  the  wise  com- 
panion of  man,  and  his  equal  in  the  position  for  which,  accord- 
ing to  Athenian  ideas,  she  was  created. 


VOL     I. 


LECTURE    IX. 

GENERAL    CULTURE.  —  WORSHIP.  —  DIVINATION.  —  ORACLES. 

The  education  of  the  Greeks  was  planned  with  great  wis- 
dom, and  the  effects  of  it  were  seen  in  the  extraordinary 
amount  of  intellectual  ability  exhibited  by  men  of  various 
classes.  It  is  understood  of  itself  that  the  mental  training 
and  the  opportunities  of  culture  differed  according  to  the  po- 
sition and  wealth  of  the  individual.  The  working  classes,  of 
course,  were  limited  in  both  these  respects ;  but  in  Athens,  at 
least,  they  not  only  had  the  elements  of  a  common  education, 
—  as  in  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic,  —  but  enjoyed  many 
opportunities  of  cultivating  the  taste,  —  such  as  the  constant 
spectacle  of  the  masterpieces  of  architectural,  pictorial,  and 
plastic  art,  and  the  habit  of  listening  to  the  public  recitation 
of  literary  works,  to  the  performance  of  tragedy  and  comedy, 
and  to  the  panegyrical,  deliberative,  and  forensic  discourses  of 
the  orators.  They  were  called  upon  to  consider  public  affairs, 
and  to  decide  political  questions  by  their  votes ;  and  they  were 
drawn  to  serve  as  jurymen  in  a  vast  variety  of  causes,  which 
were  brought  up  from  the  subject  and  confederated  cities  to 
be  decided  in  the  courts  of  the  capital.  The  boast  of  Pericles, 
that  political  knowledge  was  not  incompatible  with  the  com- 
mon business  of  life,  was  fully  borne  out  by  the  actual  condi- 
tion of  the  people  of  Athens  in  his  day. 

No  doubt  the  young  men  of  the  poorer  classes  left  schoo 
early,  to  be  apprenticed  to  the  trades  by  which  their  livelihood 
was  to  be  earned.  Many  occupations,  such  as  making  wreaths 
and  garlands,  were  open  to  young  women  of  the  same  classes ; 
and  it  is  probable  that  in  the  great  manufactories  also,  espe- 


GENERAL   CULTURE.  435 

/ially  of  the  different  kinds  of  cloth,  women  were  employed; 
though  all  these  departments  of  industry  were  to  a  considerable 
extent  carried  on  by  the  agency  of  slaves.  But  the  young 
men  of  leisure  and  property  generally  went  through  the  entire 
course  already  described,  giving  the  years  from  sixteen  to  eigh- 
teen more  especially  to  the  completion  of  the  gymnastic  and 
military  education.  At  the  close  of  this  period,  they  were  en- 
rolled in  the  registers  of  their  several  demoi,  or  wards,  and  were 
at  liberty  to  marry,  to  appear  as  parties  in  the  courts  of  law, 
and  the  like ;  from  eighteen  to  twenty,  they  were  liable  to  mil- 
itary service,  under  the  name  of  TrepnroXot,  (peripoloi),  in  the 
border-fortresses  of  Attica ;  and  at  the  end  of  this  period  they 
attained  their  full  majority,  were  enrolled  in  the  register  of 
citizens,  entitled  to  the  full  exercise  of  civic  rights,  and  made 
participants  in  the  business  of  the  popular  assemblies.  On  at- 
taining their  majority,  the  young  men  betook  themselves  to 
their  several  careers.  Some  engaged  in  private  business,  as 
the  father  of  Demosthenes,  who  carried  on  the  manufacture  of 
swords  and  cutlery,  with  a  considerable  body  of  slave-opera- 
tives ;  others  embarked  in  commerce ;  others,  like  Ischomachus, 
employed  themselves  in  agriculture,  for  which  the  well-born 
Athenians  had  a  strong  taste ;  and  many  devoted  themselves 
wholly  to  military,  naval,  or  political  affairs;  though,  as  a  gen- 
eral rule,  it  was  considered  right  that  a  good  citizen  should  be 
competent  to  discharge  the  duties  pertaining  to  all  the  depart- 
ments of  the  public  service,  whenever  occasion  called  for  his 
activity.  Poetry,  the  arts,  and  philosophy  attracted  an  emulous 
multitude  of  the  finest  intellects  to  enter  these  paths  of  fame. 
The  freedom  of  public  life  opened  a  brilliant  prospect  for  the 
eloquent  and  aspiring  ;  and  the  administration  of  justice  filled 
up  the  time  and  furnished  the  means  of  subsistence  for  a  large 
body  of  the  people.  But  the  tastes  and  passions  of  many 
among  the  young  men  of  fortune  drew  them  into  every  spe- 
cies of  dissipation  and  profligacy.  Pleasure,  in  its  most  dan- 
gerous and  seductive  forms,  lured  them  into  the  inextricable 
snare.     The  tavern  opened  its  doors,  and  set  before  them  tb« 


436  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

choicest  wines  from  the  islands  of  the  JEgean  Sea.  The  ac- 
complished sirens  from  Ionia,  the  flute-players,  dancers,  sing- 
ers, who  thronged  the  pleasure-loving  capital,  and  made  their 
houses  enticing  by  every  allurement  of  taste,  art,  brilliant  wit, 
and  literary  culture,  wasted  the  time,  exhausted  the  estates, 
and  steeped  in  voluptuous  oblivion  the  consciences  of  not  a 
few  youth,  else  of  fair  promise,  to  whom  neither  virtue  nor 
ambition  nor  philosophy  was  a  sufficient  safeguard  against  the 
perils  of  wealth  and  leisure.  Horse-racing  corrupted  and  vul- 
garized the  tastes  of  the  fast  Athenian,  and  forced  the  too 
indulgent  father  to  resort  to  the  money-lenders  for  temporary 
relief,  to  be  speedily  followed  by  more  desperate  embarrass- 
ments. Poor  old  Strepsiades  is  unable  to  sleep  at  night,  think- 
ing over  the  debts  into  which  his  hopeful  son  has  plunged  him. 
Getting  up  from  his  uneasy  couch  he  says : 

"  What  with  debts  and  duns 
And  stable-keepers'  bills,  which  this  fine  spark 
Heaps  on  my  back,  I  lie  awake  the  whilst ; 
And  what  cares  he,  but  to  coil  up  his  locks, 
Bide,  drive  his  horses,  dream  of  them  all  night, 
Whilst  I,  poor  devil,  may  go  hang  ? 

What,  ho  !  a  light !  bring  me  my  ledger,  boy, 
That  I  may  reckon  up  how  much  I  owe. 
Come,  let  roe  see ;  to  Pasias,  twelve  mins. 
For  what  ?  why,  for  the  Koppa-branded  horse. 
O  that  his  eye  had  first  been  Koppaed  out ! 

Now,  then,  what  debt  assails  me  next  to  Pasias  ? 
Three  min»  to  Amynias ;  for  what  ? 
Why,  for  a  curricle  and  pair  of  wheels." 

Gambling,  cock-fighting,  and  the  sport  called  ortugocopia,  or 
the  striking  of  quails,  were  very  attractive  to  the  idlers  of  the 
market-place.  Professional  cock-fighters  enjoyed  much  of  the 
consideration  that  is  now  awarded  to  jockeys.  "  During  their 
professional  perambulations,"  says  St.  John,  taking  the  descrip- 
tion from  Plato's  Laws,  "  they  presented  a  spectacle  infinitelv 


GENERAL   CULTURE.  437 

ludicrous.  With  a  couple  of  small  cocks  in  their  hands,  and 
an  old  one  under  either  arm,  they  sallied  forth,  like  vagabonds 
who  had  been  robbing  a  hen-roost,  to  give  their  favorite  ani- 
mals air  and  gentle  exercise,  and,  thus  laden,  often  strolled 
several  miles  into  the  country."  Social  intercourse  in  the 
clubs  and  symposia  formed  a  less  objectionable  recreation. 
The  festivals  which  crowded  the  Attic  year  helped  to  wear 
away  the  time.  Hunting,  field-sports,  horsemanship,  exercising 
and  bathing  in  the  gymnasia,  listening  to  the  disputes  of  the 
philosophers,  lounging  about  the  agora  to  leam  the  news  of 
the  day,  and  occasional  journeys  to  Corinth,  as  the  whim  or 
pleasure  of  the  moment  directed,  diversified  the  life  of  the  gay 
young  Athenian.  Education  and  philosophy  were  not  then  a 
universal  safeguard  of  good  habits  and  virtuous  character,  any 
more  at  Athens  than  elsewhere ;  and  even  the  boasted  rhyth- 
mical ethics  blended  with  the  tones  of  music  did  not  always 
arrest  the  recipient  from  running  a  headstrong  course  of  the 
wildest  debauchery.  But  the  general  result  was  honorable 
to  the  wisdom  and  sagacity  of  those  who  devised  the  system. 
A  sound  and  well-balanced  mind,  with  a  healthy  body,  was 
theoretically  its  aim,  and  in  most  cases  practically  its  result. 
Vivacity  of  intellect,  and  versatility  in  the  many-sided  appli- 
cation of  talent  to  business,  to  the  public  service,  to  literary 
pursuits,  and  to  speculative  philosophy,  distinguished  the  Athe- 
nians above  all  other  ancient  or  modern  communities. 

After  the   Peloponnesian   war,  the  education  of  the  Athe- 
nians underwent  important  modifications.      The  subjects  of 
study  were  considerably  multiplied,  and  the  severity  of  the 
ancient  discipline  was  relaxed.     A  more  forward  and  forth- 
putting  style  of  manners  was  tolerated  and  encouraged  among 
the  young.     Greater  effeminacy  in  dress  came  into  fashion. 
The  simple  music  of  the  old  Marathonian  time  gave  way  t 
more  complicated  rhythms  and  to  the  works  of  a  new  and  art> 
ficial  class  of  composers.      Fluency  of  speech  without  corre 
eponding  abundance  of  ideas,  sophistical  arguments,  and  word 
catching,  wholly  regardless  of  sound  and  solid  reason,  wer* 


t38  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

favorite  accomplishments;  and  showy  rhetoric,  veiling  religious 
indifference  and  moral  deformity,  passed  current  among  the 
degenerate  fashions  of  the  times.  Yet  some  of  the  best  and 
ablest  men  appeared  amid  the  growing  corruption ;  many  of 
the  masterpieces  of  eloquence,  history,  and  philosophy  belong 
to  this  period ;  and  the  circle  of  sciences  was  immensely 
enlarged  in  the  veiy  midst  of  the  moral  perversion  of  the 
sophists.  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  Demosthenes  are  proofs  of  the 
undiminished  vigor  of  the  Athenian  character. 

After  the  time  of  Alexander,  the  system  of  instruction  was 
expanded  to  what  was  called  the  encyclic  education,  that  is,  a 
course  of  studies  including  in  its  circle  the  principal  subjects  of 
human  knowledge ;  and  this  course  was  gradually  adopted  as 
the  basis  of  Hellenic  culture,  as  far  as  the  Greek  language  and 
literature  extended.  The  Alexandrian  scholars  not  only  culti- 
vated criticism  and  literature,  but  greatly  enlarged  the  boun- 
daries of  mathematical  and  physical  science.  The  professors 
of  the  Museum  and  the  Serapeion  gave  their  lives  to  these 
pursuits ;  and  the  patronage  of  the  Ptolemies  collected  in  the 
Alexandrian  libraries  the  literary  and  scientific  treasures  of 
the  world.  The  encyclic  or  liberal  education,  at  this  period, 
embraced  seven  departments ;  namely,  Grammar,  Rhetoric, 
Philosophy  or  Dialectics,  Arithmetic,  Music,  Geometry,  and 
Astronomy.  And  now  came  into  existence  the  learned  class, 
professionally  considered ;  that  is,  a  class  of  men  set  apart  from 
the  ordinary  vocations  of  life,  and  wholly  devoted  to  study. 
Erudition,  without  specific,  practical  aims,  gradually  grew  into 
a  distinct  pursuit;  special  departments  of  study  became  ex- 
clusive professions  ;  and  the  methods  and  details  of  instruction 
were  changed  and  improved.  The  principal  seats  of  science 
and  education  at  this  stage  were  Athens,  Rhodes,  Alexandria, 
Antioch,  Ephesus,  Smyrna,  and  especially  Tarsus,  immortal- 
fzed  as  the  place  where  St.  Paul  acquired  that  various  and  ac- 
curate learning  which  made  him  the  most  efficient  teacher  of 
Christianity  among  the  first  disciples  of  Christ.  Strabo  says, 
that  here,  so  great  was  the  zeal  of  men  for  the  cultivation  of 


GENERAL   CULTURE.  439 

philosophy  and  the  other  branches  of  a  liberal  education,  that 
Tarsus  surpassed  Athens,  Alexandria,  and  every  other  place 
that  could  be  mentioned,  where  the  lectures  and  schools  of 
philosophers  have  existed. 

There  was  one  peculiar  defect  in  the  liberal  education  of  the 
Greeks,  distinguishing  it  from  that  of  our  own  times,  which 
deserves  to  be  pointed  out.  There  was  no  study  of  foreign 
languages.  It  was  but  seldom,  and  then  only  for  some  prac- 
tical purpose,  that  a  scholar  attempted  the  acquisition  of  any 
language  but  his  own.  Travellers  indeed  sometimes  learned 
to  speak  the  language  of  the  nation  they  visited ;  and  ambassa- 
dors sometimes,  but  not  always  or  frequently,  sought  to  facili- 
tate their  intercourse  with  foreign  diplomatists  by  learning  to 
converse  with  them  in  their  own  tongue.  Themistocles,  we 
are  told  by  Thucydides,  when  he  fled  to  the  Persian  court, 
asked  permission  to  remain  a  year  before  presenting  himself  to 
the  monarch  ;  and  during  that  time  he  made  himself  com- 
pletely master  of  the  Persian  language.  Appearing  at  court  at 
the  expiration  of  the  year,  he  was  received  with  distinguished 
honor,  and  was  able  to  hold  personal  intercourse  with  King 
Artaxerxes,  the  son  of  Xerxes.  During  the  Roman  domina- 
tion many  Greeks  studied  the  Latin  language,  either  for  the 
purpose  of  repairing  to  Rome,  or  for  convenience  of  inter- 
course with  the  Romans  who  visited  Greece.  In  Egypt  the 
commercial  establishments  of  the  Greeks  required  the  services 
of  interpreters ;  and  there  were  many  persons  whose  sole  busi- 
ness was  to  officiate  in  this  capacity.  According  to  Herodo- 
tus they  were  Egyptians  by  birth,  who  had  been  permitted 
to  study  the  Greek  language,  and  whose  descendants  con- 
stituted a  class,  caste,  or  guild,  called  the  interpreters'  guild. 
Similar  arrangements  were  made  at  other  important  commer- 
cial stations,  as  at  the  emporium  of  the  Borysthenes,  where  a 
considerable  business  was  carried  on  with  the  Scythians.  But 
the  study  of  their  own  language  was  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant subjects  of  attention,  not  only  in  the  early  system  of  the 
Athenians,  but  through  all  the  ages  of  Hellenic  culture ;  and 


44:0  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

not  only  on  the  continent  of  Greece,  but  in  Egypt,  Asia  Minor, 
Byzantium,  and  wherever  Greek  colonies  were  established  or 
Greek  culture  was  known.  Improvisation  was  practised  by 
the  sophists  of  Smyrna,  Pergamus,  and  other  seats  of  rhetori- 
cal study.  According  to  Philostratus,  Herodes  Atticus  loved 
to  extemporize  more  than  to  be  looked  up  to  as  a  man  of 
consular  rank,  descended  from  consular  ancestors.  The  same 
distinguished  man  gave  to  the  sophist  Polemon,  for  three  dis- 
courses, twenty-five  thousand  drachmae,  or  between  four  and 
five  thousand  dollars. 

The  Asiatic  style  was  distinguished  for  excess  of  ornament, 
aiming  constantly  at  brilliant  diction,  rhythmical  sound,  bal- 
anced sentences,  sharp  antitheses,  metaphors,  and  comparisons, 
which  delighted  the  ear,  without  always  satisfying  the  under- 
standing of  the  hearer.  We  have  a  considerable  number  of 
these  showy  discourses  in  the  works  of  Dion  Chrysostomus 
and  Aristeides  Quintilianus,  some  of  which  are  not  devoid  of 
interest  and  value.  In  the  schools,  rhetorical  exercises  on 
themes  propounded  by  the  teacher  constituted  a  favorite  mode 
of  discipline.  The  following  may  serve  as  a  specimen  of  the 
subjects  :  —  "  Demosthenes  affirming  under  oath  his  innocence 
of  the  charge  brought  against  him  by  Demades,  that  he  had  re- 
ceived a  bribe  of  fifty  talents  from  Persia,  on  information  drawn 
from  the  accounts  of  Darius  sent  by  Alexander  to  Athens." 

Gymnastic  education  was  comparatively,  though  not  wholly, 
neglected  during  these  later  ages ;  but  training  for  the  great 
games  continued  to  occupy  the  young  men,  even  down  through 
the  imperial  times.  The  ancient  spirit  of  law  and  liberty  — 
a  sense  of  the  rights,  privileges,  and  duties  of  the  free  cit- 
izen— had  long  ceased  to  animate  the  systems  of  education; 
and  so,  with  many  noble  exceptions,  and  with  a  remarkable 
development  of  science  and  philosophical  speculation,  a  false 
taste  in  style,  pedantry  of  manner,  and  a  want  of  practical  wis- 
dom in  the  aim  of  intellectual  culture,  gained  ground  with  the 
slow  and  sure  degradation  of  public  morality.  Christianity  was 
slowly  working  her  way ;  but  the  warfare  she  had  to  wage 


GENERAL   CULTURE.  441 

with  heathenism  and  sophistry  was  long  and  desperate,  and  for 
a  time  the  confusion  of  the  intellectual  chaos  seemed  to  grow 
more  hopeless.  The  literary  character,  as  has  been  more  than 
once  the  case  in  modern  times,  ceased  to  enjoy  or  to  deserve 
the  public  respect.  Lucian,  in  his  Hermotimus,  introduces  an 
old  gentleman  complaining  to  the  teacher  of  his  nephew  that 
the  young  man  had  grown  no  better,  but  rather  worse,  by  his 
instructions  ;  and  in  his  Symposium  one  of  the  personages, 
having  listened  to  the  discordant  talk  of  the  philosophers,  says : 
"  While  these  various  matters  were  going  on,  I  was  reflecting 
by  myself  on  the  obvious  thought,  that  science  and  literature 
are  of  no  service,  unless  a  man  reform  his  life  thereby.  These 
men,  so  fluent  and  excellent  in  speech,  I  saw  bring  ridicule 
on  themselves  in  their  actions  ;  and  then  it  occurred  to  me 
whether  the  common  saying  be  not  true,  that  a  literary  educa- 
tion withdraws  from  the  path  of  common  sense  those  who 
look  only  to  books,  and  to  the  ideas  contained  in  them." 

This  is  certainly  a  discouraging  result ;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  many  eminent  and  venerable  names  occur  to  grace 
these  ages  of  decline.  Aristeides  the  rhetorician,  Plutarch, 
Dion  Chrysostomus,  Philostratus,  Libanius,  Themistius,  de- 
serve especial  mention;  and  that  their  examples  and  instruc- 
tions were  not  without  effect  may  be  fairly  deduced  from  the 
sketch,  by  the  distinguished  writer  first  named,  of  the  charac- 
ter of  Eteoneus,  a  Grecian  youth  of  noble  soul  and  liberal 
education,  whose  early  death  he  deplores.  "  He  was  more 
beautiful  and  perfect  than  all  his  companions,  pnd  made 
the  most  agreeable  impression  on  those  who  beheld  him.  In 
his  bearing  he  was  the  most  modest  and  liberal  of  men ;  dis- 
tinguished by  magnificence  joined  with  simplicity,  so  that  it 
was  not  easy  to  judge  whether  he  was  a  boy,  a  youth,  or  a 
man  in  middle  life ;  for  he  had  the  artless  disposition  of  the 
boy,  the  blooming  vigor  of  the  youth,  the  intellect  of  manhood. 
The  admirable  feature  of  his  mind  was,  that  it  bad  nothing 
over-bold,  forward,  and  presumptuous.  The  vigor  of  his  un- 
derstanding was  accompanied  by  a  gentle  reserve,   while  his 


442  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE 

moderation  had  nothing  paltry,  low,  or  sluggish.  His  char- 
acter was  like  the  soft  and  well-attempered  air  of  spring, 
wherein  keenness  is  blended  with  mildness.  Solidity  and 
grace  were  so  combined  in  his  intellectual  and  moral  charac- 
ter, that  neither  quality  was  injured  by  the  other." 

The  religion  of  the  Greeks,  in  its  relation  to  the  life  of 
Greece,  is  to  be  looked  upon  from  two  principal  points  of 
view.  First,  it  is  to  be  considered  as  a  system  of  positive 
belief  in  the  existence  of  gods,  or  supernatural  beings,  who, 
under  the  human  form,  and  with  some  of  the  passions  and 
imperfections  belonging  to  man,  yet  governed  this  world  sub- 
stantially according  to  the  decrees  of  eternal  justice,  taking  a 
direct  and  personal  interest  and  agency  in  the  scenes  of  life 
and  the  destinies  of  men.  The  second  aspect  in  which  it  pre- 
sents itself  to  us  is  as  a  system  of  moral  and  religious  doctrines, 
on  the  divine  being  and  nature,  the  moral  law,  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  the  obligations  of  purity,  piety,  humanity,  benefi- 
cence, and  the  duty  of  making  one's  self  as  much  like  the  divine 
being  as  possible  in  this  life,  —  this  system  having  been  elabo- 
rated by  the  higher  order  of  philosophical  intelligences,  like 
Pythagoras,  Socrates,  Plato,  and  Aristotle.  These  two  systems 
were  not  always  in  harmony ;  the  popular  belief  in  the  mul- 
titudinous deities  of  Olympus,  with  their  appetites,  passions, 
and  intrigues,  was  often  rudely  jostled  by  the  scepticism  of 
the  philosophers ;  and  the  philosophers,  in  their  turn,  by  the 
freedom  of  their  speculations,  subjected  themselves  to  popu- 
lar odium  and  vehement  persecution,  as  heretics  with  regard 
to  the  established  church.  The  external  worship  of  the 
Greeks  was  an  imposing  ritual,  uniting  the  grandeur  of  art, 
the  attractions  of  public  and  private  festivity,  processions, 
holidays,  sacrifices,  purifications,  libations,  intellectual  and 
sensual  enjoyment.  Songs  and  dances  filled  the  day,  glad- 
dening the  eyes  and  ears  of  the  worshipping  multitude  as  the 
performers  moved  around  the  altar,  or  marched  in  festal  array 
to  the  temple.  The  temples  themselves,  occupying  places  con- 
secrated to  the  gods,  were  the  habitations  in  which  the  deities 


WORSHIP.  443 

dwelt,  embodied  in  statues  wrought  by  the  genius  of  art,  and 
dedicated  by  the  piety  of  the  state.  They  were  surrounded 
by  sacred  grounds,  often  planted  with  trees,  or  occupied  by 
other  buildings  connected  with  the  worship.  Architectural 
magnificence  was  lavished  upon  them  long  before  the  art  of 
the  statuary  or  painter  had  made  any  important  progress. 
But  the  tympana,  friezes,  and  metopes,  in  the  course  of  time, 
were  embellished  with  the  finest  sculptures,  and  no  expense 
was  spared  in  rendering  these  structures  houses  fit  for  the 
godhead.  Without  entering  upon  architectural  details,  I  may 
mention  that  the  temples  were  classified  not  only  according 
to  the  orders  of  architecture,  Dorian,  Ionian,  Corinthian,  — 
orders  exclusively  devoted  to  sacred  uses,  and  never  adopted 
for  private  residences,  —  but  according  to  the  number  and 
position  of  the  columns  at  the  ends  and  sides,  and  as  they 
were  roofed  or  open  at  the  top.  They  were  generally  divided 
into  three  parts,  —  the  pronaos  or  vestibule,  the  naos  or  cella, 
and  the  opisihodomos.  r/he  naos  contained  the  statue  of 
the  god,  facing  the  enhance,  which  was  in  the  centre  of  the 
front  portico.  In  those  temples  which  were  connected  with 
the  celebration  of  the  mysteries,  the  interior  division  was  open 
only  to  the  priests  and  the  body  of  the  initiated.  Many  of  the 
temples,  such  as  those  at  Delphi,  and  on  the  Acropolis  of 
Athens,  were  filled  with  gold,  silver,  precious  stones,  and 
costly  works  of  art,  sent  thither  by  states,  kings,  or  private  in- 
dividuals, to  propitiate  the  favor  of  the  gods,  or  in  token  of 
gratitude  for  blessings  received ;  so  that,  in  times  of  war,  these 
centres  of  Hellenic  piety  became  tempting  lures  to  rapacious 
leaders,  whose  soldiers  were  clamoring  for  plunder.  Some- 
times the  temples  served  as  a  safe  place  of  deposit  for  the 
public  revenues.  Thus  the  temple  of  Apollo  at  Delos  was  the 
treasury  of  the  contributions  paid  by  the  allies  of  Athens  for 
the  common  defence,  until  Pericles  removed  the  deposits  to 
Athens  ;  and  the  public  moneys  of  Athens  were  deposited  in 
the  opisihodomos,  or  rear  apartment,  of  the  Parthenon. 
Connected  with  the  temples  were  estates  called  sacred  prop- 


444  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

erty.  This  property  consisted  partly  in  lands,  which,  unless 
prohibited  by  a  malediction,  were  leased,  and  the  revenue  ap- 
propriated to  the  support  of  worship,  or  the  defraying  of  the 
cost  of  sacrifices.  Taxes  were  in  many  instances  levied  on  the 
community,  and  tithes  were  an  invention  of  the  Greeks,  as 
well  as  of  the  Jews.  The  temple  of  Athene  had  a  tithe  of  the 
prizes  taken  in  war,  and  of  certain  fines ;  the  temple  of  the 
Delian  Apollo  received  tithes  to  a  large  amount  from  the 
Cyclades ;  the  temple  of  Artemis  in  Ithaca  received  tithes  from 
an  estate,  the  possessors  of  which  were  bound  to  keep  it  in 
repair ;  and  so  with  others.  Each  important  temple  had  an 
officer  attached  to  it — generally  appointed  by  the  people — who 
acted  as  receiver  of  the  revenues  and  treasurer.  The  appoint- 
ment of  priests  and  priestesses  was  determined  by  different 
rules  and  principles  in  different  places ;  the  general  idea  of  the 
priestly  function  being  that  of  an  intercessor  between  the  gods 
and  man,  though  the  need  of  such  an  intercessor  was  by  no 
means  universally  recognized.  The  head  of  a  family  might 
offer  prayers  and  sacrifices  without  the  help  of  a  priest ;  but  at 
each  important  centre  of  worship  a  body  of  officiating  persons 
was  generally  attached  to  the  temple,  and  directed  the  acts  of 
religious  homage  performed  there.  A  few  priesthoods  were 
hereditary,  as  that  of  the  Eumolpidae  at  Athens ;  others  were 
temporary  in  their  tenure  ;  others  were  for  life.  In  some  cases 
celibacy  was  required;  in  others,  marriage  was  allowed.  In 
the  more  ancient  worship  of  Zeus,  Pausanias  asserts  that  the 
officiating  priest  was  a  boy,  chosen  for  his  beauty;  and  that,  as 
soon  as  his  beard  began  to  grow,  he  gave  place  to  another 
younger  person,  chosen  upon  the  same  principle.  The  offices 
of  these  ministers  of  the  gods  were  mainly  prayer  and  sacrifice. 
They  were  bound  in  a  peculiar  sense  to  maintain  themselves  in 
all  honor  and  purity  of  character,  as  was  becoming  those  who 
were  admitted  into  such  intimate  communion  with  the  deity, 
and  who  dwelt  in  the  sacred  precincts,  shared  in  the  reverence 
paid  to  the  gods,  and  lived  upon  the  temple  revenues.  To  them 
the  place  of  honor  was  assigned  in  the  theatre,  and  at  other  re 


worship.  445 

sorts  of  amusement  and  business.  Their  costume  was  carefully 
studied,  the  stole  being  usually  white.  Garlands  and  fillets 
were  worn  on  the  head  in  public  ceremonies,  and  the  hair  was 
suffered  to  grow  long.  Sometimes  they  appeared  in  the  typical 
costume  of  the  deity  they  served.  Thus  the  priestess  of  Athe- 
ne, selected  from  the  tallest  and  most  beautiful  of  the  maids 
of  Athens,  appeared  on  some  occasions  with  the  panoply  and 
the  triple-crested  helmet  of  the  goddess.  In  the  later  periods 
it  sometimes  happened  that  the  same  individual  held  several 
priesthoods,  and  enjoyed  their  united  incomes,  —  a  fact  which 
proves  pluralities  not  to  have  been  an  original  invention  of 
modern  hierarchies.  The  priests  had  under  their  direction  a 
great  number  of  attendants,  to  perform  the  labors  connected 
with  such  an  establishment,  to  assist  in  the  sacrificial  services, 
to  bear  the  sacred  vessels,  to  execute  the  choral  dances  and 
walk  in  the  processions,  besides  a  class  of  servants  to  perform 
the  menial  duties  necessary  in  many  parts  of  the  ceremonial ; 
and  all  these  partook  of  the  good  cheer  furnished  by  the  vic- 
tims offered  on  the  altars.  On  the  whole,  these  priests  led  a 
jovial  life,  —  much  like  the  merry  times  enjoyed  by  the  monks, 
or  some  of  them,  unless  the  stories  of  the  Middle  Ages  are  in- 
ventions of  the  enemy. 

The  four  great  games  —  the  Olympian,  Pythian,  Nemean, 
and  Isthmian  —  were  a  characteristic  feature  of  Hellenic  wor- 
ship and  life,  and  a  bond  of  union  for  all  of  Hellenic  descent. 
They  were  celebrated  at  stated  intervals  under  the  sanction  of 
religion,  and  drew  together  immense  multitudes  of  people  from 
every  Grecian  state.  Originally  intended  only  for  athletic  ex- 
ercises, they  combined  in  the  course  of  time  competitions  in  the 
fine  arts,  eloquence,  poetry,  and  philosophy.  To  the  Olympian 
celebration,  held  every  four  years,  came  Greeks  from  Asia, 
from  Africa,  and  from  every  part  of  Europe  where  Greek  colo- 
nies were  established.  Peace  was  proclaimed  over  the  Grecian 
world.  The  territory  of  Elis,  where  stood  the  temple  of  Olym- 
pian Zeus,  was  inviolable.  Commercial  transactions  on  the 
most  extensive  scale  were  concluded  there.      Deputies,  with 


446  THE   LIFE   OF  GREECE. 

gorgeous  equipments,  from  cities  and  states,  made  an  emulous 
show  of  their  magnificence.  Women  were  not  allowed  to  be 
present,  under  penalty  of  being  thrown  down  the  Typaean 
Rock,  though  they  might  send  chariots  to  the  races.  The 
festival  lasted  five  days,  and  was  under  the  immediate  su- 
perintendence of  Olympian  Zeus,  whose  statue,  in  gold  and 
ivory,  was  deemed  the  greatest  work  of  the  sculptor  Pheidias. 
Within  the  sacred  precincts  were  altars  and  shrines  to  many 
other  gods,  statues  to  victors  in  the  games,  and  magnificent 
offerings  consecrated  by  the  munificence  of  cities  and  princes. 
Besides  the  intellectual  entertainments  provided  by  the  genius 
,  of  poets,  rhetoricians,  and  artists,  the  contests  consisted  in 
foot-races,  wrestling,  the  throwing  of  the  discus  and  the  spear, 
boxing,  the  chariot-race,  the  pancration,  horse-races  of  divers 
kjnds,  various  exercises  of  boys,  and  the  armed  race.  These 
exercises  probably  occupied  four  days,  and  the  fifth  was  taken 
up  with  the  processions,  sacrifices,  and  banquets  given  to  the 
victors.  The  garland  of  wild  olive,  cut  from  the  sacred  tree 
in  the  grove  of  Altis,  near  the  altars  of  Aphrodite  and  the 
Horse,  was  the  only  prize.  The  victor  was  crowned  upon  a 
table  made  of  ivory  and  gold,  or  a  tripod  covered  with  bronze ; 
and  his  name,  with  that  of  his  father  and  bis  country,  was 
proclaimed  by  the  herald  to  assembled  Greece.  Such  a  victonf 
was  regarded  as  the  highest  boon  the  gods  could  bestow  on 
mortals.  Returning  to  his  native  city,  the  conqueror  was  es- 
corted home  by  a  triumphal  procession,  and  his  glory  was  com- 
memorated by  the  loftiest  strains  of  Pindar  or  Simonides.  The 
occasion  was  one  of  the  greatest  splendor  and  stateliness  in  the 
varied  range  of  Hellenic  worship.  The  other  national  games 
agreed  in  their  general  type  and  aim  with  the  Olympian ;  and 
there  was  an  endless  diversity  of  similar  celebrations,  of  a  local 
character  and  less  comprehensive  purposes. 

Passing  from  the  external  pomp  of  Grecian  worship  to  the 
influence  of  superstitious  ideas  upon  the  natural  yearning  of 
the  human  heart  for  intercourse  with  the  spiritual  world, 
and  the  insatiable  curiosity  to  pry  into  the  secrets  of  fate,  w« 


DIVINATION.  447 

shall  find  a  wonderful  apparatus,  partly  of  delusion,  partly  of 
imposture,  partly  of  mistaken  apprehensions  of  the  phenomena 
of  nature,  by  which  the  eager  minds  of  the  Greeks  —  ever 
searching,  but  ever  baffled  —  strove  to  appease  the  mighty 
hunger  for  the  unknown. 

The  modes  of  divination,  so  far  as  the  interpretation  of  the 
will  of  the  gods  was  concerned,  may  be  ranged  under  two 
general  heads,  —  inspiration,  and  the  interpretation  of  signs ; 
and  these  were  sometimes  connected  with  temple-worship, 
sometimes  wholly  independent  of  it.  The  interpretation  of 
dreams  was  considered  of  some  importance,  even  by  the  most 
philosophical  minds.  The  sort  of  divination  which  judges  of 
the  future  by  the  past,  though  often  attributed  to  divine  inspi- 
ration, was  generally  conceded  to  be  nothing  more  than  the 
application  of  sense  and  sagacity  to  the  current  affairs  of  the 
world.  The  signs  to  be  interpreted  were  innumerable.  The 
most  common  were  the  flight  and  voices  of  birds,  their  habits, 
which  were  carefully  observed,  and  their  manner  of  alighting. 
In  so  common  regard  and  use  were  these,  that  the  word  bird 
had  become,  even  in  Homer's  time,  synonymous  with  omen. 
Particular  birds  were  more  ominous  or  prophetic  than  others. 
Thus  the  crow  and  the  raven  were  specially  favored  with  the 
ability  to  act  as  mediums  between  man  and  the  gods.  Numer- 
ous accidental  events,  —  a  violent  fit  of  sneezing,  any  little  devi- 
ation from  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  a  sudden  sound,  in- 
terrupting the  stillness  of  the  hour,  the  unexpected  suggestion 
of  a  thought,  a  bright  idea  occurring  to  one  not  accustomed  to 
such  angel-visitants,  — all  these  were  special  interpositions  of 
the  gods,  and  indications  —  often  blind  enough  —  of  their  will 
and  purposes.  In  the  sacrifice  of  victims,  omens  of  the  most 
important  bearing  were  discerned.  In  the  historical  times,  no 
important  enterprise  was  undertaken,  unless  the  omens  fa- 
vored it ;  though  it  is  likely  enough  that  the  omens  were  favor- 
able, or  the  contrary,  mzch  as  the  leaders  in  the  undertaking 
desired.  The  circumstances  from  which  conclusions  were 
drawn   on   these   occasions    were   the    manner  of  burning, — 


448  THE   LIFE   OF  GREECE. 

whether  the  flame  shot  up  clear  and  bright,  or  smouldered  and 
hissed,  as  it  reached  the  victim's  body,  lying  on  the  pile  or 
altar ;  the  form  and  appearance  of  the  ashes,  after  the  flame 
subsided ;  and,  above  all,  the  inspection  of  the  entrails,  and  the 
shape  and  aspect  of  the  liver.  At  the  temples,  where  much 
of  this  business  was  carried  on,  the  resident  priesthood  were 
the  professional  interpreters.  In  some  places,  simple  altars 
were  special  seats  of  divination.  At  an  altar  of  Hermes,  the 
first  word  heard  after  the  sacrificer  had  completed  his  offering, 
was  supposed  to  contain  the  answer  to  the  question  pro- 
pounded. There  was  in  Thebes  an  altar  of  Ismenian  Apollo, 
the  ashes  of  which  were  prophetical.  These,  and  a  thousand 
other  methods,  were  resorted  to  every  day,  and  every  hour  of 
every  day,  all  over  Greece. 

The  oracular  responses  at  the  shrines  and  temples  were 
more  imposing,  and  had  a  wider  influence  over  public  affairs. 
The  most  ancient  and  venerable  centre  of  oracular  lore  was 
the  temple  of  Zeus  at  Dodona,  where  the  responses  of  the  gods 
were  gathered  from  the  rustling  of  the  leaves  on  the  sacred 
oaks  that  overshadowed  the  holy  ground,  and  from  the  mur- 
muring of  the  fountain  flowing  hard  by.  Apollo,  however, 
was,  in  a  pre-eminent  degree,  the  oracular  deity.  His  oracles 
were  established  in  many  parts  of  Greece.  Not  only  was  he  the 
organ  of  communication  between  the  monarch  of  the  gods  and 
the  human  race,  but  to  him  belonged  the  power  of  making  men 
or  women  the  mediums  of  his  responses,  by  throwing  them  in- 
to a  state  of  inspiration  or  ecstasy,  in  which  they  delivered  un- 
consciously the  words  of  the  god.  The  sites  selected  for  these 
oracles  were  generally  marked  by  some  physical  property, 
which  fitted  them  to  be  the  scenes  of  such  miraculous  mani- 
festations. They  were  in  a  volcanic  region,  where  gas  es- 
caping from  a  fissure  in  the  earth  might  be  inhaled,  and 
the  consequent  exhilaration  or  ecstasy,  partly  real  and  partly 
imaginary,  was  a  divine  inspiration.  At  the  Pythian  oracle 
in  Delphi  there  was  thought  to  be  such  an  exhalation.  Others 
■aave  supposed  that  the  priests  possessed  the  secret  of  manu- 


ORACLES.  449 

factoring  an  exhilarating  gas,  and  kept  it  to  themselves  for  this 
purpose,  as  no  such  phenomenon  has  been  observed  on  that 
spot  in  modern  times.  Perhaps  the  fumes  of  the  laurel  which 
was  burned  there  produced  the  effect.  At  first,  the  Delphian 
oracle  was  open  to  the  consultation  of  visitors  only  once  a  year ; 
next,  every  month ;  and  finally,  several  days  in  each  month. 
The  persons  wishing  to  consult  the  oracle  were  required  to 
pass  through  a  process  of  purification  by  bathing  in  water 
from  the  Castalian  stream,  and  to  offer  sacrifice,  before  they 
could  draw  nigh  to  the  presence  of  the  god.  In  each  of  the 
oracular  temples  of  Apollo,  the  officiating  functionary  was  a 
woman,  probably  chosen  on  account  of  her  nervous  tempera- 
ment ;  —  at  first  young,  but,  a  love  affair  having  happened,  it 
was  decided  that  no  one  under  fifty  should  be  eligible  to  the 
office.  The  priestess  sat  upon  a  tripod,  placed  over  the  chasm 
in  the  centre  of  the  temple.  The  smoke,  gas,  or  ether,  or  per- 
haps her  own  imagination,  reduced  her  quickly  to  a  state  of 
intoxication,  and  her  ravings  in  this  condition  were  taken 
down  by  the  prophetes,  —  one  of  the  managing  priests,  —  em- 
bodied in  verse  more  or  less  enigmatical,  and  delivered  to  the 
inquirer  as  the  response  of  the  god.  The  brain  of  the  medium 
was  the  more  easily  affected,  as  before  ascending  the  tripod 
she  usually  spent  three  days  in  preparing  herself  by  fasting 
and  bathing.  The  priesthood  in  this  temple  appear  generally 
to  have  been  very  crafty  and  able.  They  had  a  vast  amount 
of  secret  information  about  men  and  things,  which  they  turned 
to  the  purposes  of  imposture.  They  kept  poets  in  their  pay, 
or  as  members  of  the  fraternity,  who  acquired  immense  skill 
in  turning  the  nonsensical  prose  of  the  Pythoness  into  high- 
sounding,  but  very  unintelligible  verse.  The  great  point,  in 
cases  where  no  information  was  in  their  possession,  was  to  give 
the  response  in  such  a  way  that,  two  opposite  events  being  the 
only  possible  ones,  the  construction  of  the  language  would  allow 
ts  application  to  either ;  while  it  would  be  impossible  to  know 
anything  about  it  until  after  the  event,  which  made  the  whole 
as  plain  as  daylight. 
vol.  i.  29 


450  THE   LI*K   OF   GREECE. 

The  influence  of  the  oracles  of  Apollo  over  Greece  was 
boundless,  and  extended  far  beyond  the  countries  occupied  by 
the  Hellenic  race.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  statesmen  and 
warriors  of  the  historical  times  availed  themselves  of  the  ora- 
cles as  a  means  of  carrying  out  their  plans.  "  The  Pythia 
Philippizes,"  was  an  expression  of  the  great  Athenian  orator, 
implying  that  the  king  of  Macedonia  had  tampered  with  the 
sacred  persons  of  the  Delphian  temple. 

Sleeping  in  temples,  and  judging  by  dreams,  which  undei 
such  circumstances  were  considered  divine  communications, 
was  another  mode  of  divination.  The  custom  was  to  slay  a 
victim  and  sleep  on  the  skin,  —  which  one  would  suppose  to  be 
a  very  natural  way  of  producing  dreams  of  the  most  unpleas- 
ant description. 

There  were  other  temples,  called  Plutonia,  where  the  spirits 
of  the  dead  were  conjured  up  to  answer  questions  propounded 
to  them.  By  what  sort  of  deception  this  trick  was  accom- 
plished, the  jugglers  have  not  informed  us.  Besides  the  public 
and  recognized  shrines  of  these  mysterious  rites,  there  were 
localities  without  temples,  supposed  to  be  favorable  for  the 
summoning  up  of  ghosts ;  and  these  were  called  Psychopom- 
peia  and  Psychomanteia,  —  offices  for  calling  up  and  ques- 
tioning departed  spirits.  Maximus  Tyrius  described  one  of 
these  spots,  in  Magna  Grsecia,  where  a  great  business  was  car- 
ried on.  "  There  was  a  place  near  Lake  Avernus,  called  the 
prophetic  cavern.  Persons  were  in  attendance  there  who 
called  up  ghosts.  Any  one  desiring  it  came  thither,  and,  hav- 
ing killed  a  victim  and  poured  out  libations,  summoned  what- 
ever ghost  he  wanted.  The  ghost  came,  very  faint  and  doubt- 
ful to  the  sight,  but  vocal  and  prophetic ;  and,  having  answered 
the  questions,  went  off."  In  a  more  secret  manner  still,  this 
species  of  imposture  was  conducted  for  private  gain.  It  is  a 
singular  fact,  that  the  imposition  was  practised  chiefly  by 
women  of  a  low  and  vulgar  character,  though  men  were  not 
wanting  to  help  in  the  cheat  and  share  in  the  profit ;  and,  what 
s  perhaps  even  more  singular,  the  obvious  bad  faith  of  the  im- 


OBACLES.  451 

postors,  the  coarseness  of  the  means  they  resorted  to,  and  the 
baldness  of  the  delusion,  did  not  hinder  them  from  drawing 
many,  who  should  have  known  better,  to  sanction  the  impu- 
dence of  their  pretensions. 

It  is  only  with  the  very  lowest  style  of  ancient  superstition 
that  the  wretched  imposture  of  spiritual  rapping,  which  is  now 
emptying  the  churches  and  filling  the  mad-houses,  can  be  com- 
pared. An  oracle  poetically  expressed  with  two  meanings  is 
more  ingenious  than  a  badly  spelled  message,  rapped  from  un- 
der a  table,  with  no  meaning  at  all.  A  ghost  summoned  from 
the  realm  of  the  departed,  in  a  Plutonian  temple  or  a  gloomy 
cavern,  answering  questions  and  then  vanishing,  is  more  pleas- 
ing to  the  imagination  than  one  which  upsets  furniture.  A 
pythoness,  raving  with  the  fancied  inspiration  of  Apollo,  with 
priests  and  poets  moulding  her  crazy  exclamations  into  well- 
sounding  hexameters,  presents  a  finer  picture  than  a  medium, 
— generally  a  tricky  girl  or  a  nervous  woman,  —  writing  feeble 
sentences  which  an  idiot  would  blush  to  own,  and  then  libel- 
ling some  departed  worthy  by  attributing  them  to  the  dictation 
of  his  ghost.  The  agitation  of  the  laurel-branches  round  the 
holy  tripod,  as  the  inspiration  came  over  the  pythoness,  sounds 
better  than  making  a  table  dance  across  the  floor  by  the  ap- 
plication of  a  dozen  hands.  Spiritual  rapping  is  nothing  but 
the  old  Athenian  imposture  repeated  in  more  vulgar  forms, 
with  a  few  modifications  of  circumstance  for  the  convenience 
of  the  rappers.  It  differs  in  being  a  more  impudent  cheat  on 
the  one  side,  and  a  more  imbecile  delusion  on  the  other,  and 
in  being  more  fatal  in  its  consequences ;  and  it  shows  how 
easily  an  imposture  which  seduces  the  human  mind  to  believe 
a  lie,  degrades  its  godlike  powers  to  the  most  pitiable  feeble 
ness. 


LECTURE    X. 

TEMPLES.  —  STATE  OF  KELIGIOUS  BELIEF.  —  PHILOSOPHERS 
—  FUNERAL  RITES  AND  MONUMENTS.  —  BELIEF  CONCERN 
ING  A  FUTURE  LIFE.  —  WILLS. 

Pausanias,  the  Greek  traveller,  who  made  the  tour  of  Hel- 
las in  the  second  century  of  our  era,  left  a  work,  somewhat 
dry  in  style  and  inartificial  in  arrangement,  in  which  he  de- 
scribes the  objects  of  interest  he  saw  on  his  travels.  So  far 
as  the  monuments  of  sculpture  and  architecture  remain,  they 
evince  the  accuracy  and  fidelity  of  his  accounts.  In  an  anti- 
quarian point  of  view,  his  narrative  is  of  the  highest  impor- 
tance, though  its  literary  merits  are  not  remarkable.  When  he 
visited  Elis,  the  temple  and  statue  of  Olympian  Zeus  and  the 
most  splendid  memorials  of  the  Olympic  celebrations  were  still 
standing  uninjured.  "  The  temple,"  says  he,  "  is  built  ac- 
cording to  the  Dorian  order,  and  is  surrounded  by  columns  (or 
a  peristyle).  It  is  constructed  of  the  light  marble  which  the 
country  produces.  Its  height,  from  the  foundation  to  the  ped- 
iment, is  sixty-eight  feet ;  its  breadth,  ninety-five ;  and  its 
length,  two  hundred  and  thirty.  Its  builder  was  Libon,  a  na- 
tive Eleian.  Its  roof  is  not  of  burned  tiles,  but  of  marble  from 
the  Pentelic  quarries,  wrought  after  the  manner  of  tiles."  He 
next  describes  in  detail  the  sculptural  ornaments,  the  shields, 
And  the  other  embellishments  of  the  exterior  of  the  temple, 
which  were  of  the  most  elaborate  and  admirable  character 
The  site  of  this  temple  is  well  ascertained,  as  are  its  plan  ano 
dimensions.  The  excavations  undertaken  by  the  French  sci- 
entific expedition  to  the  Morea  laid  open  the  foundations  of 
the  structure,  and  brought  to  light  numerous  fragments  of  col- 
umns and  pieces  of  sculpture  of  the  finest  workmanship  cor- 


TEMPLES  453 

responding  to  the  description  of  Pausanias.  The  columns  are 
shown  to  have  been  more  than  seven  feet  in  diameter,  surpass- 
ing in  size  those  of  any  other  Greek  temple  now  extant.  The 
most  elaborate  examination  of  these  ruins  and  their  interesting 
associations  is  by  Ernst  Curtius,  in  a  discourse  recently  deliv- 
ered at  Berlin,  accompanied  by  a  diagram  of  the  temple  and 
its  site,  as  restored.  On  this  diagram  the  goddess  of  Victory 
surmounts  the  vertex  of  the  temple ;  at  each  corner  is  a  tripod, 
the  memorial  of  a  victory ;  and  at  the  feet  of  the  goddess 
hangs  a  shield,  with  a  Medusa's  head  in  the  centre,  in  celebra- 
tion of  a  battle  won  by  the  Spartans.  The  architrave  was 
covered  by  a  row  of  consecrated  shields,  placed  there,  however, 
at  a  late  period,  by  the  Roman  general  Mummius,  after  sup- 
pressing the  last  Greek  revolt.  In  the  centre  of  the  triangular 
tympanum  the  figure  of  Zeus  was  seated.  The  groups  on  the 
right  and  left  were  devoted  to  the  mythical  tale  of  Pelops. 
The  former  represented  the  old  Pelasgian  king  CEnomaus,  with 
his  attendants ;  and  the  latter,  the  Phrygian  adventurer,  with 
Hippodameia.  On  the  right  was  the  river  Alpheius  -f  and  on 
the  left,  the  Cladeus.  The  contest  of  Pelops  in  the  race  of 
four-horse  chariots,  which,  according  to  the  myth,  decided  his 
own  destiny  and  that  of  the  country,  here  stood  very  properly 
as  the  type  of  the  principal  contest  in  the  games.  The  mo- 
ment represented  is  that  just  before  the  contest  begins,  Olym 
pian  Zeus  sitting  beneath  the  goddess  of  Victory,  and  presiding 
over  the  scene  as  the  supreme  judge.  The  sculptures  on  the 
west  exhibited  the  battle  of  the  Centaurs  and  the  Lapithae.  En- 
tering the  pronaos  through  the  bronze  gates,  and  over  a  mosaic 
floor,  the  visitor  reaches  the  presence  where  was  enthroned 
the  colossal  statue  of  the  Olympian  Zeus,  the  deity  of  the  tem- 
ple and  the  place,  the  work  of  Pheidias,  the  last  and  greatest 
triumph  of  his  sublime  genius.  "Pheidias,  the  son  of  Char- 
mides,  the  Athenian,  made  me,"  was  the  simple  but  proud 
inscription,  in  which  he  was  permitted  to  record  for  immortal 
memory  this  achievement,  —  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world. 
The  famous  lines  of  Homer,  describing  the  nod  of  Zeus,  wero 
the  inspiration  under  which  he  wrought  •  — 


454  THE   LIFE  OF  GREECE. 

" '  This  is  the  mightiest  sign  ;  for  a  clear,  irrepealable  purpose 
Waits  an  accomplishment  sure,  when  the  nod  of  my  head  is  the  token.' 
So  did  he  speak,  and  at  pausing  he  signed  with  his  shadowy  eyebrows ; 
And  the  ambrosial  curls  from  the  head  everlasting  were  shaken, 
And  at  the  nod  of  the  king  deep  trembled  the  lofty  Olympus." 

Pheidias,  having  completed  his  greatest  works  at  Athens,  re- 
moved, on  a  public  invitation,  with  his  most  eminent  pupils,  to 
Elis,  where  he  had  a  studio  assigned  him,  near  the  sacred 
grove  of  Altis.  Here  he  began  his  most  illustrious  task,  in 
437  B.  C,  and  finished  it  in  four  years.  The  style  of  sculp- 
ture was  that  called  the  Chryselephantine,  or  ivory-and-gold. 
The  god  was  represented  seated  on  a  throne  of  cedar-wood, 
adorned  with  gold,  ivory,  and  precious  stones,  crowned  with 
a  wreath  of  olive,  holding  a  statue  of  Victory  in  his  right  hand, 
and  a  sceptre  surmounted  by  an  eagle  in  his  left.  The  royal 
peplos,  which  covered  the  lower  part  of  the  statue,  was  of 
beaten  gold,  variegated  with  chased  and  painted  figures.  The 
throne  and  the  platform  on  which  it  rested  were  richly  adorned 
with  painted  and  sculptured  compositions  of  mythological  sub- 
jects, which  are  all  enumerated  by  Pausanias.  The  quantity 
of  gold  used  was  enormous.  According  to  Lucian,  each  lock 
of  hair  weighed  six  minae,  and  must  have  been  worth  some 
hundreds  of  dollars.  In  the  judgment  of  the  ancients,  the 
statue  stood  at  the  head  of  all  the  productions  of  Hellenic  art, 
and  was  regarded  with  a  superstitious  veneration,  as  the  real 
presence  of  the  deity,  in  material  form.  Elis  became  the  sanc- 
.uary  of  peace  ;  the  clang  of  arms  was  never  allowed  to  break 
in  upon  the  sacred  repose  of  the  region  blessed  by  the  direct 
supervision  of  the  king  of  gods  and  men.  Livy  says  that  iEmi- 
lius  Paulus,  in  his  march  through  Greece,  "  went  up  through 
Megalopolis  to  Olympia,  where  he  was  affected  in  his  mind  as 
if  he  had  beheld  Jupiter  in  present  form,  and  ordered  a  sacri- 
fice more  magnificent  than  usual  to  be  prepared."  The  author 
of  an  epigram  in  the  Anthology  says,  "  Either  the  god  de- 
scended from  heaven,  to  show  his  form,  or  thou,  O  Pheidias, 
didst  go  up  to  behold  the  god"       Quintilian  writes:  "The 


STATE   OF  RELIGIOUS  BELIEF.  455 

Athenian  Minerva  ana  the  Olympian  Jupiter  at  Elis  possessed 
b.  beauty  which  seemed  to  have  added  something  to  religion, 
the  majesty  of  the  work  was  so  worthy  of  the  divinity."  Flax- 
man,  having  well  considered  all  the  information  that  has  come 
down  to  us  respecting  it,  says,  "  It  was  justly  esteemed  one  of 
the  seven  wonders  of  the  world."  It  was  removed  by  the  Em- 
peror Theodosius  I.  to  Constantinople,  where  it  perished  by 
fire,  A.  D.  475 ;  and  so  in  smoke  and  flame  vanished  from 
>arth  the  great  god  of  Olympus,  nine  hundred  and  twelve  years 
ifter  he  was  placed  on  the  throne  of  Grecian  worship  at  Elis. 

One  of  the  characters  drawn  by  Theophrastus  is  that  of  the 
superstitious  man.  Some  of  the  marks  which  distinguish  him 
are  these.  "  If  a  weasel  cross  his  path,  he  will  not  proceed 
until  some  one  has  gone  before  him ;  or  until  he  has  thrown 
three  stones  across  the  way.    If  he  sees  a  serpent  in  the  house, 

he  builds  a  chapel  on  the  spot A  mouse,  perchance,  has 

gnawed  a  hole  in  a  flour-sack ;  away  he  goes  to  the  seer  to 
know  what  it  behooves  him  to  do ;  and  if  he  is  simply  answered, 
'  Send  it  to  the  cobbler  to  be  patched,'  he  views  the  business  in 
a  more  serious  light ;  and,  running  home,  he  consecrates  the  sack 

as  an  article  no  more  to  be  used If  on  his  walks  an  owl 

flies  past  him,  he  is  horror-struck,  and  exclaims,  '  Thus  comes 
the  divine  Athene ! '  On  the  fourth  and  seventh  days  of  the 
month,  he  directs  mulled  wine  to  be  prepared  for  his  family," 
(a  rite  practised  within  the  memory  of  the  present  generation 
on  other  days  as  well,) -"and,  going  himself  to  purchase  myrtle 
and  frankincense,  he  returns,  and  spends  the  day  in  crown- 
ing the  statues  of  Hermes  and  Aphrodite.  As  often  as  he 
has  a  dream,  he  runs  to  the  interpreter,  the  soothsayer,  or  the 
augur,  to  inquire  what  god  or  goddess  he  ought  to  propitiate. 
Whenever  he  passes  a  cross-way,  he  bathes  his  head.  For  the 
benefit  of  a  special  purification,  he  invites  the  priestesses  to  his 
house ;  who,  while  he  stands  reverently  in  the  midst  of  them, 
bear  around  him  an  onion  or  a  little  dog."  The  folly  and  degra- 
dation of  these  lower  forms  of  superstition  were  seen  distinctly 
enough,  and  exposed  and  ridiculed  by  the  clear  intellects  that 


456  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

rose  from  time  to  time  in  Hellenic  society.  Aristophanes 
treated  them  in  this  fashion,  especially  in  the  comedy  of  "  The 
Birds."  When  the  soothsayer  comes  up  to  Birdtown  with 
an  assortment  of  spiritual  wares,  pretending  that  the  oracles 
have  directed  the  citizens  of  Nephelococcygia  to  give  him  a 
pair  of  shoes  and  a  portion  of  the  flesh  of  the  sacrifices,  he  is 
met  by  a  counter-oracle.  Peisthetairos,  the  archon  of  this  airy 
republic,  tells  him  :  — 

"  This  oracle  differs  most  remarkably 
From  that  which  I  transcribed  in  Apollo's  temple : 
'  If,  at  the  sacrifice  which  you  prepare, 
An  uninvited  vagabond  should  dare 
To  interrupt  you,  and  demand  a  share, 
Let  cuffs  and  buffets  be  the  varlet's  lot, — 
Smite  him  between  the  ribs,  and  spare  him  not.'  " 

And  producing  a  horsewhip,  he  proceeds  to  execute  justice  on 
the  shoulders  of  the  soothsayer,  who  takes  to  his  heels. 

The  philosophers  of  Greece  represent  the  favorable  side  of 
the  Hellenic  religion.  Taken  collectively,  they  were  a  most 
remarkable  body  of  men,  whether  we  consider  the  variety  of 
their  attainments,  the  depth  of  their  intuition,  the  precision  and 
accuracy  of  their  logic,  the  splendor  of  their  eloquence,  or  the 
weight  of  their  personal  influence.  Philosophy  among  the 
Greeks  was  a  very  comprehensive  term,  embracing  every 
department  of  knowledge,  human  and  divine,  looking  upon 
the  universe  of  mind  and  matter  as  a  grand  unity,  all  the  parts 
of  which  were  worthy  of  the  serious  and  reverent  study  of 
man.  Physical  science  had  not  made  the  world  of  matter 
so  subject  to  the  human  mind  as  now.  Their  theories  were 
often  wild,  fanciful,  and  poetical,  rather  than  scientific.  Yet 
even  here,  one  is  sometimes  startled  by  intuitive  foreshadow- 
ings  that  comprehend  and  anticipate  the  last  conclusions  of 
modern  research.  Thus  Philolaus,  the  Pythagorean,  main- 
tained that  the  sun  was  a  globe  in  the  centre  of  the  system, 
that  the  other  planets  revolved  around  it,  and  that  the  earth 
had  a  movement  on  its  own  axis,  which  caused  day  and  night, 


PHILOSOPHERS.  457 

and  gave  an  apparent  motion  to  the  stars.  Xenophanes  drew 
from  the  fossil  remains  imbedded  in  the  rocks  the  conclusion 
that  the  earth  had  in  previous  ages  undergone  prodigious  revo- 
lutions, in  which  the  existing  races  of  animals  were  destroyed ; 
and  that  the  shells  and  petrifactions  of  marine  products  on  tne 
mountains  proved  the  surface  of  the  earth  to  have  gradually- 
risen  from  beneath  the  waters  of  the  sea.  The  philosophers 
universally  rejected  the  popular  notions  of  the  gods,  and,  almost 
universally,  the  belief  in  a  multiplicity  of  gods ;  though,  as  a 
matter  of  expediency  and  prudence,  they  generally  fell  in  with 
the  observances  of  the  popular  worship,  so  far  at  least  as  the 
laws  of  the  state  required  religious  conformity.  But  after 
all,  there  was  a  wide  separation  between  them  and  the  body 
of  the  people,  who,  partly  from  the  fanaticism  natural  to  igno- 
rance, and  partly  from  the  apprehension  of  losing  the  enjoy- 
ments placed  within  their  reach  by  the  religious  festivals,  per- 
secuted with  unrelenting  hostility  any  man  who  was  suspected 
of  questioning  the  national  faith.  They  could  laugh  over  the 
vices  and  absurdities  attributed  by  the  poets  to  the  gods  and 
goddesses,  the  cowardice  and  lewdness  of  Dionysos,  the  in- 
trigues of  Aphrodite,  the  sneaking  amours  of  Zeus,  the  scolding 
jealousy  of  Hera;  but  if  an  earnest  seeker  after  the  truth 
came  to  doubt  the  existence  of  these  precious  models  of  the 
divine  nature,  and  pronounced  that  the  universe  was  created 
and  governed  by  one  God,  holy,  omnipresent,  eternal,  and  indi- 
visible, he  could  look  only  for  banishment  or  death  from  the 
popular  tribunals.  This  discord  between  the  faith  of  the  peo- 
ple and  the  religion  of  the  philosophers  naturally  led  the  latter 
to  regard  the  doctrines  in  which  their  conclusions  were  em- 
bodied as  secrets  or  mysteries,  to  be  communicated  only  to  the 
interior  circle  of  their  disciples.  Here  was  another  .source  of 
confusion  and  hostility ;  and  perhaps  a  part  of  the  blame  is  to 
be  laid  upon  the  philosophers  themselves,  for  so  long  withhold- 
ing their  own  loftier  conceptions  of  the  divine  essence  and  of 
religious  duty  from  the  great  body  of  their  contemporaries. 
Thales  taught  that  "  God  is  the  oldest  of  all  things,  for  he  is 


458  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

without  beginning";  that  "death  differs  not  from  life,  the  soul 
being  immortal "  ;  that  "  a  bad  man  can  hide  neither  evil  ac- 
tions nor  evil  thoughts  from  the  divine  power " ;  that  "  the 
world  is  the  fairest  of  all  things,  for  it  is  the  work  of  God. 
Cheilon's  precepts  were,  "Not  to  slander  our  neighbors;  to 
be  more  ready  to  share  the  misfortunes  than  the  prosperity  of 
our  friends ;  to  keep  watch  over  ourselves ;  to  suffer  harm 
rather  than  take  a  dishonest  gain ;  to  be  meek  when  in  power ; 
to  bear  injuries  patiently ;  to  seek  peace ;  to  honor  age  ;  to 
obey  the  laws."  Cleobulus  said :  "  Do  good  to  your  friends, 
that  their  friendship  may  be  strengthened  ;  to  your  enemies, 
that  they  may  become  your  friends.  Be  more  eager  to  hear 
than  to  speak.  Avoid  injustice  ;  bridle  the  love  of  pleasure ; 
do  violence  to  no  man ;  instruct  your  children ;  keep  up  no 
enmities."  Pythagoras,  the  first  to  adopt  the  title  of  philos- 
opher or  lover  of  knowledge,  enjoined  upon  the  membeis  of 
his  fraternity,  not  only  silence,  but  modesty,  temperance,  and 
brotherly  love.  I  like  the  early  Christians,  they  lived  together 
in  a  social  community,  with  funds  in  common,  administered 
by  one  of  the  members.  The  master  taught :  "  The  one 
Deity  is  the  source  of  all  things  ;  his  form,  light ;  his  essence, 
truth.  He  is  the  giver  of  good  to  those  who  love  him,  and  as 
such  is  to  be  worshipped.  He  is  the  soul  of  all  things,  pervading 
and  maintaining  the  universe.  The  souls  of  men  exist  after  the 
death  of  the  body.  The  soul  strengthens  its  holy  dispositions 
by  the  exercise  of  devotion.  Knowledge  should  be  sought  as 
the  means  of  approaching  the  nature  and  felicity  of  the  Deity." 
Xenophanes  said,  "  There  is  one  eternal,  infinite,  immortal 
Being,  by  whom  all  things  exist,  and  this  one  being  is  God. 
Incorporeal  and  omnipresent,  he  hears  all,  sees  all,  but  not  by 
human  senses.  He  is  at  once  mind,  wisdom,  eternal  exist- 
ence." Heracleitus  affirmed  that  the  universe  is  governed  by 
one  unerring  Supreme  Will  or  Deity.  He  told  his  countrymen 
of  Ephesus,  that  they  might  as  well  pray  to  the  stones  of  their 
houses  as  to  stone  images ;  and  in  the  spirit  of  a  later  watch- 
word of  polytheistic  fanaticism,  "  Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephe- 


PHILOSOPHERS.  459 

sians,"  they  banished  him.  Anaxagoras  declared,  that  "Phoe- 
bus himself,  the  great  Delphian  god,  is  nothing  more  than  a 
glowing  ball,  which  communicates  its  heat  to  the  earth ;  that 
the  moon,  the  Artemis  of  the  Greeks,  and  the  Isis  of  Egypt, 
is  nothing  more  than  another  habitable  earth,  with  hills  and 
valleys  like  our  own  ;  that  there  is  but  one  God,  the  intelli- 
gent Mind  which  has  given  movement  and  form  to  the  atoms 
of  the  universe,  and  which,  though  pervading  and  governing 
all  nature,  is  separate,  and  unmixed  with  any  material  sub- 
stance." But  bigotry  was  alarmed ;  Diopeithes  procured  a 
decree  to  be  passed,  that  those  who  were  guilty  of  denying 
the  existence  of  the  gods  should  be  tried  before  the  assembly 
of  the  people  ;  and  all  the  influence  and  eloquence  of  Peri- 
cles, when  at  the  height  of  his  power,  availed  only  to  procure 
the  commutation  of  the  sentence  of  death  into  banishment  from 
Athens. 

The  argument  of  Socrates  on  the  existence  of  God  as  an 
intelligent  Creator,  as  reported  by  Xenophon,  anticipates  all 
the  material  points  of  Paley's  beautiful  reasoning  from  the  ap- 
pearances of  design.  "The  senses  of  man  are  furnished  him 
for  his  benefit  and  ha'ppiness.  It  is  a  proof  of  benevolent  fore- 
thought, that  the  eye,  being  delicate,  is  protected  by  the  eye- 
lids, which  are  opened  while  it  is  used,  and  closed  when  in 
sleep;  that  the  ear  receives  all  sounds,  without  being  filled"; 
and  so  on,  through  every  part  of  the  body  the  acute  and 
wonderful  reasoner  demonstrates  the  existence,  power,  and 
benevolence  of  the  Deity.  "  But  God,"  he  continues,  "  was 
jot  content  with  bestowing  a  body  thus  matchlessly  endowed ; 
lie  planted  in  man  —  the  greatest  of  his  gifts  —  a  sovereign 
intellect,  fit  to  use  the  faculties  of  the  body,  and  rendering 
man  like  a  god  among  the  other  beings  of  this  world."  His 
conversations  were  full  of  this  divine  wisdom.  He  was  ever 
striving  to  bring  the  minds  of  his  companions  and  disciples 
into  a  state  of  intense  activity,  so  as  to  make  real  knowl- 
edge take  the  place  of  seeming  knowledge,  and  to  lay  a  deep 
and  strong  foundation  of  principles,  on  which  character  and 


460  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

conduct  might  securely  rest.  He  is  rightly  said  to  have  drawn 
Philosophy  down  from  heaven,  and  to  have  placed  her  among 
the  habitations  of  men.  The  path  of  duty  was  marked  out  for 
him  by  the  Divine  Spirit,  whose  voice  he  seemed  to  hear  in  the 
depths  of  his  soul.  Differing  from  many  of  the  preceding  phi- 
losophers, he  sought  every  opportunity  of  intercourse  with 
common  men,  teaching  them  moral,  political,  and  religious 
truth,  and  enforcing  it  by  illustrations,  drawn  with  admirable 
tact,  from  the  most  familiar  objects  at  hand.  These  peculiari- 
ties are  delightfully  portrayed  in  Xenophon's  Memorabilia,  and 
especially  in  the  Dialogues  of  Plato. 

His  conflicts  with  the  sophists,  also,  exhibited  the  ethical  and 
religious  side  of  his  character  in  a  wonderfully  attractive  man- 
ner ;  and  the  solemnity  and  earnestness  of  his  convictions,  the 
depth  of  his  piety,  his  far-reaching  insight  into  the  being  of 
God,  the  nature  of  man,  and  the  relations  between  God  and 
man,  are  enlivened  by  the  play  of  the  richest  wit  that  ever 
adorned  the  conversation  of  a  human  being.  His  arguments 
on  the  spiritual  and  immortal  nature  of  the  soul  are  acute  and 
convincing,  marked  by  the  finest  logic,  and  the  soundest  and 
healthiest  ethical  tone.  The  duties  of  a  citizen,  the  principles 
of  household  economy  and  state  administration,  the  obligation 
to  obey  the  laws,  even  when  perverted  to  unjust  ends  and 
against  ourselves,  are  set  forth  by  him,  as  his  discourses  stand 
recorded  in  the  immortal  pages  of  Xenophon  and  Plato,  with 
a  beauty  and  eloquence  which  make  the  pulse  throb  and  the 
heart  beat,  so  many  centuries  after  all  the  actors  and  speak- 
ers in  the  scene  are  silenced  and  turned  to  dust. 

Socrates  is  a  universal  presence  in  the  life  of  Greece.  We 
meet  him  at  every  turn.  If  we  stroll  into  the  market-place, 
he  is  there  ;  if  we  join  the  throng,  and  walk  outside  the  city 
gates  to  the  Academy  or  Lyceum,  be  sure  he  is  the  centre  of 
a  circle  who  hang  entranced  upon  his  lips.  A  sophist,  emi. 
nent  for  his  gifts  and  graces,  arrives  at  Athens,  and  stops  at 
the  house  of  a  friend.  The  young  men  hasten  to  hear  his 
.ectures,  and  are  captivated  with  the  charm  of  his  rhetoric. 


PHILOSOPHERS.  461 

and  the  rhythm  of  his  sentences ;  but  before  his  triumph  is  quite 
completed,  the  droll  figure  of  Socrates  —  that  indescribable  nose, 
Greek  only  in  the  accident  of  its  birth ;  that  bald  head ;  that 
round  body,  barefooted,  with  no  chiton ;  the  eyes  rolling  and 
twinkling  with  shrewdness  and  good  humor ;  polite,  but  with 
the  slightest  possible  touch  of  irony — this  figure,  so  well  known 
in  the  streets  and  shops  of  Athens,  drops  in  unperceived,  and 
puts  a  modest  question,  as  if  for  information :  "  O  Gorgias, 
what  is  this  rhetoric  which  you  profess  to  teach?"  This  leads 
to  another  and  another  question,  until  the  discussion  passes 
out  of  the  technical  points  of  rhetoric,  and  the  sophist  and  his 
admirers  find  suddenly  exposed  to  their  view  the  hollo wness 
and  profligacy  of  their  deceptive  profession.  They  are  drawn 
into  an  earnest  argument  on  the  great  principles  of  justice,  the 
misery  of  wickedness,  the  blessedness  of  virtue,  the  certainty  of 
a  future  state  of  reward  and  punishment ;  and  all  the  objects 
of  vulgar  ambition  for  which  mistaken  men  soil  the  whiteness  of 
their  souls  — riches,  power,  empire,  fame  —  dwindle  under  the 
moral  grandeur  of  his  eloquence,  almost  into  the  insignificance 
and  nothingness  which  would  seem  to  be  their  essence,  were 
they  viewed  from  another  world.  "  No  one,"  says  he,  in  the 
tone  of  an  apostle  and  a  martyr,  "  no  one,  who  is  not  utterly 
wanting  in  sense  and  manhood,  fears  to  die.  Sin  is  a  thing  to  be 
feared ;  for  it  is  the  most  dreadful  of  evils  to  pass  into  the  other 
world  with  the  burden  of  sin  upon  the  soul."  No  wonder  that 
even  the  profligate  Alcibiades  said :  "  When  I  listen  to  him, 
my  heart  leaps,  and  tears  rush  to  my  eyes.  I  have  heard  Pericles 
and  other  able  orators,  and  I  thought  they  spoke  well ;  but  I 
had  no  such  feeling,  my  soul  was  not  agitated,  I  was  not  held 
in  thrall.  I  have  been  so  moved  by  this  Marsyas,  that,  in  my 
condition  of  soul,  life  seemed  to  me  not  worth  the  having.  I 
have  felt  towards  him  a  sentiment  which  no  one  would  sup- 
pose to  exist  in  me,  of  mingled  shame  and  respect.  I  know 
that  duty  requires  me  to  obey  his  injunctious ;  yet  the  mo- 
ment I  leave  his  presence  I  am  conquered  by  the  applauses  of 
the  multitude.     You  understand  not  this  man.     Outwardly  he 


462  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

is  like  the  sculptured  Silenus, — his  speech  is  jesting  and  ironi« 
cal ;  but  within  he  is  full  of  earnestness  and  the  sweetest  vir- 
tue, —  the  very  shrine  of  the  Deity,  —  so  divine,  so  beautiful, 
so  wonderful,  that  I  must  needs  do  whatever  he  commands." 
Such  a  man  we  should  expect  to  resist  the  popular  passion, 
when  civic  duty  placed  him  at  the  post  of  danger.  We  should 
expect  him,  when  brought  to  trial  for  his  life,  on  charges  that 
appealed  to  the  popular  bigotry,  to  meet  his  accusers  with 
the  serenity  of  an  unruffled  spirit,  and  the  unshaken  soul  of  a 
man  conscious  of  innocence  and  fearless  of  death ;  to  receive 
with  calmness  the  fatal  sentence,  —  fatal  to  his  judges,  not 
to  him.  We  should  expect  him  to  pass  the  intervening 
time  in  meditating  anew  on  the  highest  religious  themes, 
consoling  his  weeping  friends,  confirming  their  faith  in  virtue 
and  immortality ;  and,  when  the  sun  went  down  those  western 
hills  at  the  close  of  the  last  day,  quietly  to  drink  the  poisoned 
bowl,  and,  without  a  reproachful  or  complaining  word,  to  sur- 
render his  spirit  to  God  who  gave  it.  No  wonder  that  Eras- 
mus, in  the  fervid  admiration  inspired  by  these  undying  mo- 
ments of  the  dying  man,  exclaimed,  "  Sancte  Socrates,  ora 
pro  nobis !  " 

There  is  but  one  end  of  human  life.  Its  restless  endeavor, 
its  hopes,  enjoyments,  and  sufferings,  cany  it  forward  with 
equal  step  to  the  house  appointed  for  all  mankind.  Therefore 
it  is  that  the  secrets  of  the  grave  and  the  world  beyond  present 
themselves  to  the  imagination  with  an  absorbing  interest.  The 
lessons  of  mortality  are  impressive  alike  to  the  mighty  and  the 
mean,  to  the  strong  and  the  weak.  Death  comes,  sparing  nei- 
ther hope  nor  love,  melted  not  by  sorrow,  or  supplication,  or 
tears.  The  hour  of  mourning  strikes  in  the  life  of  all  of  mortal 
birth.  The  eye  closes  in  the  long  sleep  ;  the  soul  vanishes,  un- 
seen, save  by  the  vision  of  faith.  The  living  and  the  dead,  the 
sorrowing  and  those  insensible  to  sorrow,  part  at  the  door  of 
the  tomb,  and  go  alone  on  their  several  ways.  "  The  graves  of 
the  departed,"  says  the  Baron  Stackelberg,  "  encompassed  with 
the  dread  solemnities  of  the  future,  endowed  with  the  won 


FUNERAL  RITES   AND   MONUMENTS.  463 

drous  power  to  move  the  inmost  and  strongest  chords  of  the 
soul  by  the  harmonies  of  memory  and  grief,  to  subdue  the 
mighty  and  tame  the  violent  by  the  image  of  the  transitoriness 
of  this  world's  glories,  to  bring  low  the  pride  of  the  haughty 
by  the  prospect  of  future  equality,  to  console  and  elevate  the 
wretched  and  the  bowed  down  by  the  approaching  end  of  their 
sorrows,  exercised  from  the  earliest  times  the  most  decided 
reaction  upon  the  depths  of  life.  Death  was  always  the  first 
teacher  and  refiner  of  the  human  race.  In  the  richly  en- 
dowed and  sunny  land  beneath  the  southern  sky,  the  natural 
man,  who,  trusting  in  his  rude  strength  alone,  enjoyed  the 
happiness  of  his  existence,  must  have  been  aroused  from  his 
thoughtlessness,  and  led  to  a  forecast  of  a  higher  being,  by  the 
sorrowful  dissonance  in  creation  presented  by  Death,  the  over- 
taker  of  all,  the  all-conqueror." 

Sensibility  to  the  claims  of  blood  and  friendship,  tenderness 
to  the  sufferings  of  the  invalid,  and  reverence  for  the  remains 
and  the  memory  of  the  dead,  distinguished  the  Hellenic  char- 
acter. Even  a  fallen  enemy,  except  in  peculiar  cases,  was  not 
denied  the  customary  burial  ceremonies  and  honors.  The  most 
sacred  of  duties  from  the  living  to  the  dead  was  to  bestow 
on  their  mortal  remains  the  last  sad  rites,  whereby  the  beloved 
form  was  committed  in  its  solemn  beauty  to  the  bosom  of  the 
common  mother  Earth,  or  passed  through  flames  into  the  kin- 
dred elements,  leaving  a  little  ashes  to  be  wept  over  and  in- 
urned  in  the  tomb.  When  the  tender  offices  of  affection  and 
the  skill  of  the  physician  had  proved  unavailing,  the  eyes  were 
closed  by  the  hand  of  the  watcher,  and  the  body  bathed  and 
sprinkled  with  costly  perfumes,  crowned  with  flowers  of  the 
season  gathered  by  friends,  and  robed  in  white  garments  of 
the  richest  texture.  A  coin  was  placed  in  the  mouth,  as  a 
fare  to  be  paid  to  Charon  for  ferrying  the  spirit  over  the  dark 
Acherontian  waters  to  the  place  of  its  final  abode.  The  dead 
was  laid  on  a  couch  in  the  house,  with  the  face  looking  to- 
wards the  door ;  a  cushion  or  pillow  being  placed  under  the 
head,  and  painted  earthen  vases  ranged  around  it.     A  vessel 


464  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

of  water,  drawn  from  some  neighboring  well,  was  set  before 
the  door,  for  all  who  visited  the  house  to  sprinkle  themselves , 
since  the  presence  of  a  dead  body  was  supposed  to  require  the 
purifying  influence  of  lustral  water  to  guard  the  living  from 
contamination.  Relations  and  friends  surrounded  the  couch, 
and  the  women  gave  vent  to  their  sorrow  in  loud  lamentat'tns 
The  burial  took  place  soon  after  death.  The  laying  out  was 
usually  on  the  second  day,  and  the  burying  or  entombment 
early  on  the  following  morning.  Sometimes  it  was  necessary 
to  postpone  the  funeral  longer,  to  allow  of  the  arrival  of  distant 
friends.  The  dead  was  borne  to  the  place  of  interment  on  the 
couch,  supported  by  kinsmen  or  intimates,  persons  chosen  as  a 
mark  of  distinction ;  preceded  by  the  threnodoi,  or  professional 
performers  of  the  funeral  wail,  generally  females ;  and  followed 
by  a  procession  of  friends  and  relatives,  and  other  persons  who 
chose  to  join  it,  the  men  preceding  the  women.  In  the  case 
of  the  latter,  there  were  some  legal  restrictions  of  age  and  rela- 
tionship, though  they  do  not  appear  to  have  been  enforced. 
The  practice  of  burning  and  that  of  burying  were  both  in  use 
during  all  the  periods  of  Hellenic  existence,  until  the  preva- 
lence of  Christianity  put  an  end  to  the  former.  Of  the  simul- 
taneousness  of  the  two  modes  there  is  at  present  no  doubt.  The 
opening  of  ancient  graves,  and  the  finding  of  skeletons  entire 
in  their  coffins,  as  well  as  of  ashes,  have  settled  the  disputes  of 
the  learned  by  indisputable  facts ;  though  usage  varied  some- 
what in  different  parts  of  Greece.  The  coffins  were  some- 
times of  cypress-wood,  but  were  generally  made  of  tiles  of 
burnt  earth,  put  together  in  different  forms  and  ways,  painted, 
and  adorned  with  arabesques.  A  considerable  number  of 
these  are  engraved  in  Stackelberg's  interesting  work  entitled 
"  The  Graves  of  the  Greeks," — some  of  them  having  been 
taken  from  the  ground  by  the  author,  and  containing  the  re- 
mains of  the  dead,  with  vases  and  other  funeral  objects  buried 
with  them.  Some  are  in  the  form  of  a  triangular  prism  ;  oth- 
ers oval,  shaped  like  a  bathing-vessel ;  others  still,  of  burnt 
tiles,  the  section  of  which  would  be  an  oval,  with  upright 
tiles  at  the  foot  and  head. 


FUNERAL  RITES  AND   MONUMENTS.  465 

The  tombs,  or  places  for  burial,  whether  for  the  ashes  after 
burning  or  for  the  body,  were  either  near  the  house,  or  on 
a  spot  of  ground  in  some  other  part  of  the  family  estate,  and 
were  considered  the  most  sacred  of  possessions  ;  but  for  those 
who  were  destitute  of  landed  property,  there  was  at  Athens 
a  common  burial-ground,  between  the  Itonian  gate  and  the 
Peiraean  road.  The  cenotaphs  of  warriors  slain  in  battle  were 
outside  the  walls,  on  the  way  to  the  Academy.  The  monu- 
ments were  of  various  fashions  and  degrees  of  splendor,  accord- 
ing to  the  taste,  feeling,  and  wealth  of  the  family.  Slabs  of 
stone  set  upright  over  the  grave,  with  sculptured  ornaments, 
and  the  name  of  the  deceased,  were  the  most  common.  To 
the  name  was  added  a  farewell  twice  repeated,  and  often  a 
sketch  of  the  life  of  the  departed,  a  description  of  his  virtues, 
or  an  expression  of  the  grief  felt  in  his  death.  Sometimes 
verses,  mostly  in  hexameters  and  pentameters,  recorded  the 
merits  of  the  dead.  There  was  a  classical  Old  Mortality,  by 
the  name  of  Diodorus,  who  wrote  a  work  on  Sepulchres, 
which,  however,  has  not  survived.  In  the  tomb  were  placed 
such  objects  as  arms,  painted  vases,  and  symbolical  articles,  of 
which  immense  numbers  now  exist  in  the  great  collections, 
and  are  described  in  the  works  of  Panofka,  Gerhard,  and 
others,  constituting  one  of  the  most  important  and  interesting 
branches  of  the  antiquities  of  art.  Monuments  of  great  archi- 
tectural and  sculptural  beauty  sometimes  adorned  the  resting- 
places  of  the  dead.  Stackelberg  gives  a  very  interesting  ac- 
count and  engraving  of  a  funeral  structure  of  this  description, 
made  of  Pentelic  marble,  and  found  in  1819  near  the  Dipylon 
gate,  on  the  Sacred  Way,  where  the  most  important  monu- 
ments were  built.  •  It  represents  the  front  of  a  Doric  heroon,  or 
chapel  to  a  hero,  at  the  entrance  of  which  sits  the  sculptured 
form  of  the  deceased  lady,  clothed  in  an  Ionian  chiton,  reach- 
ing to  the  feet,  with  clasped  sleeves,  with  a  full  and  richly  or- 
namented peplos  thrown  over  the  bust,  the  head  encircled 
with  a  triple  band,  and  a  short  veil  hanging  down  and  sup- 
ported by  her  left  hand,  while  in  her  right  she  holds  a  written 

vol.  i.  30 


466  THE  LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

scroll.  Her  little  daughter  —  a  figure  of  the  most  delicate  and 
touching  beauty  —  stands  at  her  knees,  and  gazes  with  child- 
ish curiosity  into  the  scroll,  which  may  be  a  missive  commend- 
ing the  departed  spirit  to  the  deities  of  the  other  world.  On 
one  side  is  a  servant,  with  an  open  box  containing  offerings. 
On  the  lintel  above  is  inscribed,  in  letters  elegantly  cut,  the 
name  Phrasicleia.  The  beauty  and  touching  expression  of  the 
group,  and  the  exquisite  design  and  execution  of  the  sculp- 
ture, prove  it  to  belong  to  the  best  days  of  Athenian  art ; 
while  the  wealth  and  refinement  indicated  by  the  general  char- 
acter of  the  monument,  and  the  particular  objects  represented 
on  it,  seem  to  show  that  the  lady  whom  it  was  intended  to 
commemorate  belonged  to  some  distinguished  Athenian  family. 
But  this  monument  tells  us  all  we  know  of  her  history.  Her 
name  nowhere  else  occurs.  The  imagination  alone  can  supply 
the  story  of  her  life,  following  her  into  the  privacy  of  the  do- 
mestic scene  adorned  by  her  beauty  and  modest  virtues,  and 
saddened  by  her  early  death.  We  see  her  presiding  grace- 
fully over  the  household  of  her  husband,  directing  the  labor 
of  her  dependents,  sharing  in  the  religious  ceremonies  assigned 
to  her  rank  and  sex,  and  setting  an  illustrious  example  of 
wise  reserve,  economy,  elegance,  purity,  and  piety,  to  the  fair 
child  who  is  so  soon  to  mourn  her  loss.  We  watch  over  her 
anxiously  during  her  illness  ;  but  even  Hippocrates  cannot 
avail  to  snatch  her  from  the  tomb.  Her  delicate  form  sinks 
under  a  rapid  consumption ;  she  breathes  her  gentle  life  away, 
in  the  midst  of  her  family.  No  hired  mourners  here  are  needed 
to  add  a  fictitious  sorrow  to  the  bitter  realities  of  bereaved 
affection.  Breaking  hearts  follow  her  as  she  is  borne  from 
the  house  she  has  blessed,  clad  in  white,  and  crowned  with  the 
freshest  flowers  of  spring.  She  is  committed  to  the  earth, 
which  has  never  held  a  more  sacred  trust ;  and  her  name  and 
form  are  chiselled  in  the  undying  marble,  by  the  noblest  ar- 
tists of  a  noble  age.  Is  this  the  fair  young  bride  of  Ischo- 
machus,  the  friend  of  Socrates,  whose  simple  virtues  were  re- 
corded by  Xenophon,  and  whose  lovely  form  still  remains  for 


FUNERAL  RITES  AND  MONUMENTS.  467 

us  to  gaze  upon,  while  her  soft  and  melancholy  countenance 
looks  sadly  away  from  the  daughter  at  her  knee,  —  the  child 
God  has  given  her,  —  as  if  she  would  tell  —  but  her  marble 
lips  cannot  —  the  story  of  her  life  ? 

After  the  burial,  sacrifices  were  offered,  — r  the  first  on  the 
third  day,  and  the  principal  one  on  the  ninth,  when  the  formal 
feast  for  the  dead  took  place.  The  usual  period  of  mourning 
was  thirty  days ;  and  the  outward  manifestation  of  grief  consist- 
ed in  laying  aside  the  ordinary  dress,  wearing  a  black  himation, 
and  cutting  off  the  hair.  Places  of  amusement  were  scrupu- 
lously avoided,  and  the  graves  were  piously  cared  for  by  the 
survivors.  The  neglect  of  the  graves  of  ancestors  was  regarded 
at  Athens  as  a  disqualification  for  office,  and  was  a  subject  of 
express  scrutiny  at  the  examination  of  the  candidates.  Offer- 
ings were  made,  and  chaplets  suspended  on  the  monuments,  at 
stated  times ;  the  birthday  of  the  deceased  and  the  anniver- 
sary of  his  death  were  held  in  remembrance  ;  and  frequent 
visits  to  the  grave  were  supposed  to  be  grateful  to  the  departed 
spirit.  Over  the  remains  of  those  who  fell  fighting  for  their 
country  a  public  service  was  held,  and  a  eulogy  pronounced 
by  some  distinguished  orator.  After  the  disastrous  battle  of 
Chaeroneia,  Demosthenes  was  appointed  by  his  countrymen  to 
discharge  this  sad  office ;  and  the  funeral  feast,  as  he  himself 
states,  was  held  at  his  house.  There  is  a  funeral  oration  of 
Lysias,  pronounced  over  some  Athenian  soldiers  who  fell  at 
Corinth.  But  the  most  noted  illustration  of  this  fitting  and 
patriotic  observance  is  the  oration  of  Pericles,  delivered  at  the 
funeral  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  the  first  year  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  war,  as  recorded  in  Thucydides.  "  In  the  same 
winter,"  says  the  historian,  "  they  publicly  celebrated  the 
burial-honors  of  those  who  had  first  fallen  in  this  war.  They 
vere  attended  by  citizens  and  strangers ;  and  the  women  be- 
longing to  the  families  of  the  dead  were  present  as  mourners. 
The  interment  was  in  the  most  beautiful  suburb  of  the  city, 
where  all  those  who  fell  in  battle  are  buried,  except  the 
heroes  of  Marathon,  whose  valor,  pre-eminent  above  that  of 


468  THE  LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

all  others,  was  honored  by  sepulture  on  the  spot  where  they 
died.  Pericles,  the  son  of  Xanthippus,  was  the  orator  on  the 
present  occasion.  Leaving  the  tomb,  he  ascended  an  elevated 
platform,  so  that  he  might  be  heard  as  far  as  possible  by  the 
multitude,  and  spoke  as  follows." 

The  discourse,  as  reported  by  Thucydides,  is  one  of  the 
most  condensed  and  forcible  pieces  of  ancient  eloquence.  It  is 
by  no  means  limited  to  the  eulogy  of  the  dead,  but  is  a  most 
able  exposition  of  the  Constitution  of  Athens,  and  the  modes 
of  her  social  life,  as  contrasted  with  those  of  Sparta.  The 
topics  were  chosen  with  admirable  felicity  ;  for  the  struggle 
for  life  and  death  between  the  opposite  principles  of  the  two 
systems  had  just  commenced,  and  the  Athenians  needed  every 
argument  and  encouragement  to  meet  the  dangers  of  so  appall- 
ing a  crisis.  He  holds  up  before  their  eyes  the  fair  picture  of  a 
country  entitled  to  the  love  of  its  citizens,  and  worthy  to  be 
defended  at  the  hazard  of  life.  He  points  out  the  merits  of  her 
institutions,  and  the  glorious  distinctions  they  secure  to  the 
people.  For  such  a  country  the  heroes  of  past  ages  laid  down 
their  lives,  and  are  held  in  everlasting  remembrance.  For  of 
illustrious  men  the  whole  earth  is  the  sepulchre  ;  signalized 
not  only  by  the  inscription  on  the  column  in  their  native  land, 
but,  in  lands  not  their  own,  by  the  unwritten  memory  which 
dwells  with  every  man.  "  Emulous  of  men  like  these,"  says 
he,  turning  to  the  young  Athenians,  "  do  you  also,  placing  your 
happiness  in  liberty,  and  your  liberty  in  courage,  shrink  from 
no  warlike  dangers  in  defence  of  your  country."  Webster, 
quoting  from  this  oration  of  Pericles,  exclaims,  in  a  spirit  kin- 
dred to  that  of  the  great  Athenian  statesman  :  "Is  it  Athens 
or  America  ?  Is  Athens  or  America  the  theme  of  these  im- 
mortal strains  ?  Was  Pericles  speaking  of  his  own  country,  aa 
he  saw  it  or  knew  it  ?  or  was  he  gazing  upon  a  bright  vision 
then  two  thousand  years  before  him,  which  we  see  in  reality 
as  he  saw  it  in  prospect  ?  " 

I  have  dwelt  upon  this  oration  for  a  few  moments,  because  it 
presents  a  highly  characteristic  scene  of  Hellenic  life  and  death. 


BELIEF   CONCERNING   A  FUTURE  LIFE.  4t59 

The  ideas  of  the  people  as  to  the  abode  and  condition  of  de- 
parted spirits  were  neither  clear  nor  consistent.  In  the  won- 
derful and  mysterious  passage  of  the  Odyssey  where  Odysseus 
visits  the  shades,  the  ghost  of  Achilles  presents  a  dismal  picture 
of  discontent  and  misery.  The  most  loathed  life  on  earth  he 
would  prefer  to  the  gloomy  nothingness  of  his  state  in  Hades. 
He  would  rather  be  the  meanest  slave  of  the  hardest  task- 
master than  king  of  the  miserable  dead.  So  far  is  he  from 
sharing  in  the  oft-quoted  sentiment,  "  Better  to  reign  in  hell 
than  serve  in  heaven."  But  in  the  process  of  time  and  of  in- 
tellectual culture,  more  cheering  and  gladsome  prospects  en- 
livened the  dark  journey  which  all  must  take.  Pleasant  Ely- 
sian  fields,  the  islands  of  the  blessed,  the  company  of  the  just 
and  good,  and  occupations  resembling  the  most  dignified  pur- 
suits of  earth,  presented  themselves  to  the  imaginations  of  men, 
who  grasped  at  the  most  fleeting  shadows  for  consolation,  when 
they  "  left  the  warm  precincts  of  the  cheerful  day,"  to  fread 
the  dark  unknown.  The  mysteries  were  a  source  of  faith  and 
hope  to  the  initiated,  as  are  the  churches  of  modern  times. 
Secret  doctrines,  regarded  as  holy,  and  to  be  kept  with  invio- 
lable fidelity,  were  handed  down  in  these  brotherhoods,  and  no 
doubt  were  fondly  believed  to  contain  a  saving  grace  by  those 
who  were  admitted,  amidst  solemn  and  imposing  rites,  undei 
the  veil  of  midnight,  to  hear  the  tenets  of  the  ancient  faith, 
and  the  promises  of  blessings  to  come  to  those  who,  with 
sincerity  of  heart  and  pious  trust,  took  the  obligations  upon 
'ihem. 

The  Eleusinian  mysteries  were  the  most  imposing  and  ven- 
erable. Their  origin  extended  back  into  a  mythical  antiquity, 
and  they  were  among  the  few  forms  of  Greek  worship  which 
were  under  the  superintendence  of  hereditary  priesthoods. 
Thirlwall  thinks,  that  **  they  were  the  remains  of  a  worship 
which  preceded  the  rise  of  the  Hellenic  mythology  and  its 
attendant  rites,  grounded  on  a  view  of  Nature  less  fanciful, 
more  earnest,  and  better  fitted  to  awaken  both  philosophical 
thought  and  religious  feeling."     This  conclusion  is  still  furthej 


470  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

confirmed  by  the  moral  and  religious  tone  of  the  poets,  —  such 
as  jEschylus,  —  whose  ideas  on  justice,  sin,  and  retribution  are 
as  solemn  and  elevated  as  those  of  a  Hebrew  prophet.  The 
secrets,  whatever  they  were,  were  never  revealed  in  express 
terms ;  but  Isocrates  uses  some  remarkable  expressions,  when 
speaking  of  their  importance  to  the  condition  of  man.  "  Those 
who  are  initiated,"  says  he,  "  entertain  sweeter  hopes  of  eter- 
nal life  "  ;  and  how  could  this  be  the  case,  unless  there  were 
imparted  at  Eleusis  the  doctrine  of  eternal  life,  and  some  idea 
of  its  state  and  circumstances  more  compatible  with  an  ele- 
vated conception  of  the  Deity  and  of  the  human  soul  than  the 
vague  and  shadowy  images  which  haunted  the  popular  mind  ? 
The  Eleusinian  communion  embraced  the  most  eminent  men 
from  every  part  of  Greece,  —  statesmen,  poets,  philosophers, 
and  generals ;  and  when  Greece  became  a  part  of  the  Roman 
empire,  the  greatest  minds  of  Rome  drew  instruction  and  con- 
solation from  its  doctrines. 

The  ceremonies  of  initiation  —  which  took  place  every  year 
in  the  early  autumn,  a  beautiful  season  in  Attica  —  were  a 
splendid  ritual,  attracting  visitors  from  every  part  of  the  world. 
The  processions  moving  from  Athens  to  Eleusis  over  the  Sa- 
cred Way  sometimes  numbered  twenty  or  thirty  thousand 
people,  and  the  exciting  scenes  were  well  calculated  to  leave 
a  durable  impression  on  susceptible  minds.  Purifications,  sac- 
rifices, the  oath  of  secrecy,  —  the  mystagogue  leading  the  rev- 
erend company,  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  into  the  lighted 
interior  of  the  temple,  to  behold  the  awful  sights  and  hear  the 
awful  sounds  never  to  be  repeated  to  the  profane  world  with- 
out, —  were  part  of  the  machinery  by  which  the  influence  of 
the  doctrines  was  more  deeply  stamped  on  the  heart,  through 
the  imagination.  The  formula  of  the  dismissal,  after  the  initia- 
tion was  over,  consisted  in  the  mysterious  words,  konx,  ompax ; 
and  this  is  the  only  Eleusinian  secret  that  has  illuminated  the 
world  from  the  recesses  of  the  temple  of  Demeter  and  Per- 
sephone. But  it  is  a  striking  illustration  of  the  value  attached 
to  these  rites  and  doctrines,  that,  in  moments  of  extremest  peril, 


WILLS.  471 

—  as  of  impending  shipwreck,  or  massacre  by  a  victorious 
enemy, — men  asked  one  another,  "Are  you  initiated?"  as 
if  this  were  the  anchor  of  their  hopes  for  another  life. 

Before  the  final  scene,  the  departure  from  life,  it  was  the 
citizen's  duty  to  dispose  of  his  worldly  goods  under  the  so- 
lemnities of  the  law.  The  arrangements  of  the  funeral,  also, 
were  sometimes  minutely  determined  by  the  testator.  The 
will  was  drawn  up  in  due  form,  either  by  the  person  lum- 
self,  or  by  some  friend,  folded  carefully,  sealed,  and  in  the 
presence  of  witnesses  deposited  in  the  hands  of  a  confidential 
associate  or  adviser.  Immediately  after  the  death  of  the  tes- 
tator, the  document  was  produced  by  the  individual  having 
it  in  charge,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  family,  and  of  those 
who  had  witnessed  its  deposit,  opened  and  read.  The  fact 
of  its  deposit  was  all  to  which  they  could  then  testify  ;  but 
after  hearing  it  read,  they  set  their  seals  to  it,  in  attestation  of 
its  contents.  The  document  usually  commenced  with  the  for- 
mula, earai  fiev  ev,  —  "It  shall  be  well,"  —  and  proceeded  di- 
rectly to  describe  and  dispose  of  the  various  items  of  property. 
As  the  wills  of  several  persons  are  preserved  in  the  Lives  of 
the  Philosophers  by  Diogenes  Laertius,  the  best  illustration  of 
this  topic  will  be  to  read  one  of  the  shortest.  "  Plato,"  says  that 
writer,  "was  buried  in  the  Academy,  where  he  had  passed  the 
greater  part  of  his  life  in  the  pursuit  of  philosophy,  whence  his 
school  was  called  the  Academic.  His  funeral  was  attended  by  a 
large  body  of  friends  and  disciples ;  and  his  will  was  as  follows : 
'  Plato  hath  left  this  property,  and  thus  disposed  of  it.  The 
farm  in  Hephaestiadae,  next  to  which  on  the  north  is  the  road 
from  the  temple  in  Cephissia,  on  the  south  the  temple  of  Her- 
cules in  Hephaestiadae,  on  the  east  Archestratus  the  Phrearian, 
on  the  west  Philippus  the  Chollidian,  —  this  farm  shall  neither 
be  sold  nor  alienated,  but  is  to  remain  the  property  of  my  son 
Adeimantus,  as  far  as  possible.  Also  the  farm  of  Eroiadae, 
which  I  bought  of  Callimachus,  bounded  on  the  north  by 
Eurymedon  the  Myrrhinusian,  on  the  south  by  Demostratus 
the  Xypetian,  on  the  east  by  Eurymedon  the  Myrrhinusian,  on 


472  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

the  west  by  the  Cephissus ;  also,  three  minse  of  silver ;  a  silver 
goblet,  weighing  one  hundred  and  sixty- five  drachmae ;  a  cup, 
weighing  forty-five ;  a  gold  ring  and  a  gold  ear-ring,  together 
worth  forty  drachmas  and  three  obols.  Eucleides,  the  stone- 
cutter, owes  me  three  minas.  To  Artemis  I  give  her  free- 
dom. I  leave  the  following  slaves,  —  Tycho,  Bictas,  Apollo- 
niades,  Dionysius.  The  furniture  is  enumerated  in  the  sched- 
ule of  which  Demetrius  has  a  copy.  I  owe  no  man  anything. 
Executors :  Sosthenes,  Speusippus,  Demetrius,  Hegias,  Eury- 
medon,  Callimachus,  Thrasippus.'  "  The  document  is  a  very 
simple  one ;  and  it  is  a  comfort,  while  reading  it,  to  know  that 
a  philosopher  in  those  days  was  so  well  off.  I  am  afraid  there 
are  not  many  teachers  of  philosophy,  or  of  anything  else,  now, 
whose  last  will  and  testament  would  make  so  goodly  a  show  of 
farms,  cash,  goblets,  rings,  and  money  due  him,  with  the  re- 
markable clause,  "  I  owe  no  man  anything,"  —  for  which  the 
memory  of  Plato  ought  to  be  blessed  forevennore. 


LECTURE  XI. 

GOVERNMENT. 

Hippocrates,  in  his  treatise  on  Airs,  Waters,  and  Places, 
says:  "A  climate  which  is  always  the  same  induces  indolence ; 
but  a  changeable  climate,  laborious  exertions  both  of  body  and 
mind.  From  rest  and  indolence  cowardice  is  engendered ;  and 
from  laborious  exertions  and  pains,  courage.  On  this  account 
the  inhabitants  of  Europe  are  more  warlike  than  the  Asiatics ; 
and  also  owing  to  their  institutions,  because  they  are  not  gov- 
erned by  kings,  like  the  latter ;  for  where  men  are  gov- 
erned by  kings,  there  they  must  be  very  cowardly ;  for  their 
souls  are  enslaved,  and  they  will  not  willingly  or  readily  un- 
dergo dangers  in  order  to  promote  the  power  of  another ;  but 
those  that  are  free  undertake  dangers  on  their  own  account, 
and  not  for  the  sake  of  others ;  they  court  hazard  and  go  out 
to  meet  it,  for  they  themselves  bear  off  the  rewards  of  victory, 
and  thus  their  institutions  contribute  not  a  little  to  their  cour- 
age." The  contrast  between  the  Asiatic  and  the  European 
character,  and  the  causes — especially  the  climatic  and  politi- 
cal—  which  produced  it,  were  noticed  by  other  great  men 
among  the  ancients,  especially  by  Aristotle,  whose  searching 
intellect  nothing  could  elude.  This  diversity  of  political  expe- 
rience, whether  traceable  to  the  sources  referred  to  by  Hip- 
pocrates, or  to  an  origin  lying  deeper  in  the  European  consti- 
tution as  it  came  from  the  hand  of  the  Creator,  brings  to  view 
one  of  the  most  curious  and  important  aspects  of  the  life  of 
Greece,  and  perhaps  that  of  all  the  most  useful  to  be  studied 
by  the  men  of  our  times. 

We  have  already  seen  chat  the  governments  of  the  heroic 


474  THE  LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

age  were  nearly  alike  all  over  Greece.  The  elements  of 
political  society  were  the  princely  houses,  holding  hereditary 
power ;  a  nobility ;  the  freemen,  who  constituted  the  popular 
body;  and  the  slaves,  even  then  numerous.  Time  brought 
with  it  revolutions,  which  introduced  changes  in  the  forms  and 
functionaries  of  government,  more  or  less  complete  in  different 
parts  of  Greece.  The  sharper  distinctions  of  race  were  not 
without  their  influence  ;  and  innumerable  local  peculiarities 
stamped  themselves  on  civil  institutions  too  deeply  to  be  mis- 
taken. The  Dorians  were  the  most  conservative  ;  the  Ionians, 
the  most  progressive.  In  Sparta,  the  former  substituted  for  the 
heroic  monarchy  the  double  rule  of  the  Heracleid  kings,  re- 
strained by  the  supervision  of  a  council  chosen  for  life,  and  of 
the  five  ephors,  an  elective  magistracy,  as  well  as  by  a  popular 
assembly,  which  possessed  a  considerable  amount  of  legislative 
power.  The  latter,  in  Athens,  passed  through  a  long  series 
of  political  revolutions,  from  -the  monarchy  to  the  archonship 
for  life,  for  ten  years,  and  for  one  year,  and  from  one  archon 
to  nine,  with  powers  distributed  among  them.  Then  succeeded 
the  short-lived  legislation  of  Draco,  which  fell  by  its  inherent 
unfitness  for  the  condition  and  wants  of  men.  The  constitu- 
tion of  Solon  came  next,  and  furnished  the  basis  for  the  future 
greatness  and  glory  of  the  Athenian  commonwealth.  Several 
organic  changes  were  soon  introduced  by  Cleisthenes,  a  popu- 
lar leader,  by  which  the  range  of  citizenship  was  enlarged ;  but 
the  elements  of  the  government  remained  so  nearly  the  same, 
that  the  constitution  was  always  called  by  the  name  of  Solon, 
who  was  reverenced,  under  all  the  subsequent  forms,  as  the 
founder  of  the  republic. 

The  Greek  writers  divide  governments  into  classes,  according 
to  the  prevailing  principles  of  their  constitutions.  The  simplest 
classification  is  that  of  ^Eschines,  who  includes  all  forms  of 
government  under  the  three  heads  of  monarchy,  oligarchy, 
and  democracy,  —  the  two  former  being  administered  accord- 
ing to  the  character  of  the  rulers,  the  latter  by  enacted  laws 
But  it  is  evident  that  such  a  government  as  that  of  Sparta 


GOVERNMENT.  475 

would  hardly  come  within  either  of  these  descriptions,  since  it 
combines  in  certain  proportions  the  elements  of  all  three ;  and 
it  is  therefore  justly  called  by  Aristotle  a  mixed  government. 

In  surveying  the  scene  of  Grecian  politics,  we  notice  several 
very  prominent  characteristics,  the  first  of  which  is  the  variety 
of  the  constitutions ;  the  next,  the  passion  for  autonomy  ^  or  state 
independence ;  and  the  third,  the  predominance  of  single  cit- 
ies, as  representing  states  or  combinations  of  states.  In  polit- 
ical life,  as  in  everything  else,  there  was  a  universal  Grecian 
character,  which  distinguished  all  Hellas ;  while  there  was 
such  diversity,  such  contrast,  such  opposition  among  the  cities, 
that  it  seems  absurd  to  consider  the  Hellenes  a  single  nation. 
They  were  united  by  panegyreis,  or  festal  communions,  which, 
however  important  in  relation  to  art,  commerce,  and  social  life, 
had  but  little  connection  with  politics.  Again,  they  were 
united  by  amphictyoneis,  or  confederacies  with  a  common  coun- 
cil, composed  of  representatives  from  the  confederated  states. 
Of  these  the  Amphictyonic  Council,  which  assembled  every  six 
months,  alternately  at  Delphi  and  at  ThermopylaB,  is  the  most 
important  in  an  historical  point  of  view.  But  in  these  confed- 
eracies —  though  they  sometimes  interfered  with  effect  to  en- 
force the  principles  of  international  law  —  there  was  nothing 
of  the  nature  of  a  common  government.  The  members  might 
assemble,  and  pass  a  decree,  for  example,  that  a  force  should 
be  raised  for  a  special  purpose  at  such  a  time ;  but  they  had 
little  or  no  power  of  compelling  the  several  states  to  furnish 
their  contingents,  unless  the  conduct  of  the  whole  business  was 
placed  in  the  hands  of  some  powerful  prince,  like  Philip  of 
Macedon,  who  had  the  resources  of  a  kingdom  at  his  command. 
Another  bond  of  union  consisted  in  the  interchange  between 
the  states  of  mutual  hospitalities,  and  of  civil  rights,  such  as  the 
right  of  intermarriage  and  that  of  owning  property.  But  each 
of  these  forms  of  relation  or  union,  and  all  of  them  together, 
fell  short  of  a  common  central  government,  clothed  by  a  nation 
with  the  power  of  making  ^ws  and  enforcing  them.  Here 
was  the  element  of  weakness,  which  led  to  the  exhau?tion  of 


476  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

frequent  wars,  and  the  final  overthrow  of  Hellenic  freedom, 
first  under  the  Macedonian  monarch,  and  afterward  by  the 
Roman  armies.  Each  little  community  claimed  the  sovereign 
right  of  regulating  its  own  affairs,  and  of  treating  with  every 
other  on  the  footing  of  absolute  equality,  with  no  supreme 
head,  and  no  controlling  authority,  except  the  principles  of 
international  law  as  discussed  by  the  heralds  and  ambassadors, 
through  whom  their  intercourse  with  one  another  was  carried 
on.  Every  city,  therefore,  had  its  constitution  ;  and  from  this 
state  of  things  we  readily  understand  and  credit  the  assertion 
that  Aristotle  had  studied  more  than  two  hundred  constitutions 
before  he  wrote  his  work  on  Polity.  The  seeds  of  division 
were  planted  by  the  predominance  of  the  city  over  the  coun- 
try; by  extensive  migrations,  which  severed  the  ties  of  blood 
and  nativity ;  by  jarring  local  interests ;  by  conflicting  systems, 
as  those  of  democracy,  oligarchy,  and  tyranny ;  and,  finally, 
by  the  formation  of  rival  confederacies,  on  an  extensive  scale. 

Before  the  Persian  wars,  Sparta  took  a  leading  part  in  the 
affairs  of  Greece.  The  close  of  the  Persian  wars  left  Athens  a 
maritime  power,  thus  giving  her  the  leadership ;  and  from  that 
period  to  the  beginning  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  the  states 
of  Greece  i-anged  themselves  under  these  two  imperial  capitals, 
as  the  chief  representatives  of  two  systems  of  government  and 
two  contrasted  races.  At  the  close  of  the  Peloponnesian  war, 
Sparta  was  for  a  time  the  controlling  power  of  Greece  ;  but 
Athens  soon  regained  a  portion  of  her  former  influence,  and 
began  again  to  compete  with  her  ancient  rival.  For  a  brief  pe- 
riod, under  the  energetic  leading  of  Pelopidas  and  Epaminon- 
das,  Thebes  asserted  her  claims  to  the  headship ;  so  that  three 
powers  were  striving,  with  mutual  jealousy  and  hate,  to  hold 
the  mastery  in  their  hands.  When  Philip  of  Macedon  com- 
menced his  ambitious  career,  this  condition  of  things  in  Greece 
facilitated  the  schemes  of  universal  empire  which  his  active, 
able,  and  grasping  spirit  led  him  to  form,  and  at  the  sama 
time  magnified  the  difficulties  with  which  the  supporters  of 
national  independence  in  the   several  states  had  to  contend 


GOVERNMENT.  477 

The  moment  the  designs  of  Philip  were  understood,  the  only 
hope  of  safety  lay  in  a  close  union  of  the  Grecian  common- 
wealths, under  a  common  government,  or  at  least  a  common 
congress ;  and  this  was  the  policy  urged  with  unfaltering 
energy  and  matchless  ability  by  Demosthenes.  But  Philip's 
gold  corrupted  many  of  the  popular  leaders ;  others  could  not 
be  convinced  of  the  imminency  of  the  danger ;  others  still,  — 
and  perhaps  this  was  the  most  fatal  symptom  of  all, — like 
Phocion  the  incorruptible,  and  the  somewhat  timid  Isocrates, 
either  from  the  deep  discouragement  inspired  by  the  public 
vices  of  the  times,  or  from  a  doubt  of  the  possibility  or  expedi- 
ency of  resistance,  opposed  the  measures  of  Demosthenes,  tied 
his  hands,  and  crippled  his  strength.  All  these  causes  com- 
bined led  to  the  final  downfall  of  the  Grecian  states,  and  the 
establishment  of  the  Macedonian  power  over  their  ruins. 

In  the  states  themselves,  especially  in  the  democracies,  the 
warfare  of  contending  parties  was  fierce  and  incessant ;  and  the 
struggles  springing  from  it  often  resulted,  not  in  the  peaceable 
retirement  of  the  defeated,  and  the  assumption  of  power  by  the 
victors,  but  in  the  banishment  or  death  of  the  heads  of  the  un- 
successful party.  A  constitutional  opposition  scarcely  entered 
the  thoughts  of  the  ancients.  On  all  these  points  the  details 
are  endless,  and  most  instructive  to  the  citizen  of  a  modern  re- 
public. 

The  political  evils  existing  in  the  world  around  them  led 
philosophic  minds  into  speculation  upon  the  means  of  avoid- 
ing or  removing  them.  The  violence  of  parties,  the  influ- 
ence of  demagogues,  the  oppressions  exercised  by  the  rabbl° 
over  the  great  and  good  men  who  incurred  their  displeasure, 
the  insecurity  of  property,  and  the  perpetual  agitations  of  soci- 
ety, discouraged  and  disheartened  them.  Xenophon  was  an  ad- 
mirer and  an  advocate  of  Spartan  discipline.  Plato  looked  with 
distrust  on  the  popular  courts,  which  he  stigmatized  as  mobs. 
In  his  Republic  he  shadows  forth  a  constitution  of  society,  by 
which  he  seems  to  tnink  the  evils  that  afflicted  humanity  under 
existing  institutions  might  be  cured ;  but  the  cure,  so  much 


478  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

worse  than  the  disease,  is  a  sad  proof  how  little  the  most  bril- 
.iant  genius  and  the  most  profound  learning  avail  in  dealing 
with  human  affairs  on  a  priori  grounds,  setting  aside  the  lights 
of  experience.  The  disbanding  of  the  family ;  the  absolute 
subjection  of  the  individual  to  the  state ;  the  consequent  abo- 
lition of  marriage  and  overthrow  of  the  relations  growing  out 
of  it ;  the  division  of  the  community  into  classes  founded  upon 
a  theoretical  analogy  between  the  appetites  and  faculties  of 
man  on  the  one  part,  and  the  functions  of  the  state  on  the 
other,  —  the  reason  in  man  corresponding  to  the  ruling  power 
in  the  state,  the  anger  to  the  military,  the  appetites  to  the  body 
of  the  people,  —  these  things  make  us  doubt  the  wisdom  of  in- 
trusting a  merely  speculative  philosopher  with  the  affairs  of 
government.  It  is  true,  the  work  contains  numerous  passages 
of  the  grandest  moral  eloquence  ;  —  admirable  ideas  on  the 
education  both  of  men  and  of  women  ;  thoughts  on  the  nature 
of  law,  which  have  their  eternal  application  to  the  condition  of 
mankind  ;  discussions  on  justice,  which  perhaps  have  never  been 
surpassed ;  —  but  all  this  wisdom  failed  when  the  author  came 
to  construct  on  paper  his  working-model  of  a  republic.  He 
anticipates  every  one  of  the  ideas  of  modern  socialists,  clothing 
them,  however,  in  an  elegance  of  form,  which  the  plagiarists, 
beginning  with  St.  Simon  and  ending  with  the  phalansterian 
pedants  of  our  day  and  land,  have  been  utterly  unable  to  copy. 
Aristotle  had  nothing  of  the  eloquence  and  fervor  which  be^ 
longed  to  Plato,  whose  discourses  he  had  heard  at  the  Acad 
emy ;  but  he  had  the  most  capacious  intellect  and  piercing 
reason  that  have  ever  yet  appeared  on  earth.  His  insatiable 
eagerness  for  knowledge  gained  for  him  the  title  of  the  Reader, 
in  the  cultivated  circles  of  Athens.  He  was  appointed  by 
Philip  to  educate  the  young  prince,  afterwards  known  as  Alex- 
ander the  Great.  The  enlightened  views  of  commerce,  civil- 
ization, and  literature,  which  so  honorably  distinguish  Alexan- 
der from  the  vulgar  herd  of  conquerors,  were  doubtless  owing 
to  the  teachings  of  the  philosopher  of  Stagira ;  pity  that  he 
ivas  not  able  to  reason  his  royal  pupil  into  sound  views  of  right 


GOVERNMENT.  47  £ 

sousness,  temperance,  and  judgment  to  come.  Wherever  the 
monarch  marched,  the  Iliad  of  Homer,  prepared  by  Aristotle, 
was  his  companion,  Greek  culture  followed  his  footsteps,  and 
civilization  found  a  home.  The  objects  of  natural  history  were 
collected,  without  reference  to  cost,  and  sent  to  his  tutor,  then 
in  Athens,  and  lecturing  at  the  Lyceum,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ilissus.  Those  collections  furnished  the  materials  of  his  woik 
on  the  History  of  Animals,  which  to  this  day  is  a  manual  in  the 
hands  of  the  student  of  science,  and  which  anticipates  the  four 
great  divisions  of  the  animal  kingdom  demonstrated  by  Cuvier 
and  Agassiz.  Let  me  add,  as  an  illustrious  example  of  en- 
lightened liberality,  that  Alexander  sent  eight  hundred  talents, 
or  more  than  a  million  of  dollars,  to  carry  out  the  scientific 
projects  and  researches  of  the  Lyceum.  Here  Aristotle  passed 
many  years  of  his  laborious  life,  discoursing  to  crowds  of  emi- 
nent persons  and  loving  pupils  on  physical  science,  on  logic, 
which  he  commenced  and  perfected,  on  metaphysics,  some  de- 
partments of  which  have  not  advanced  since  his  day,  on  rhetoric, 
poetry,  and  politics.  Plato  was  more  imaginative,  and  soared  to 
sublimer  heights  of  ethical  and  religious  speculation.  In  morals 
he  was  Christian,  before  Christianity.  With  him  justice  was 
the  law  of  the  universe  and  the  voice  of  God.  Aristotle,  with 
a  style  somewhat  dry  and  precise,  was  a  keener  observer  of  na- 
ture, and  a  surer  judge  of  practical  ethics,  political  questions, 
and  constitutional  systems.  The  range  of  his  positive  knowl- 
edge was  vastly  greater,  being  coextensive  with  the  literature 
and  the  science  of  his  times.  Plato  ascended  on  the  wings  of 
speculation  to  the  highest  empyrean  of  thought ;  but  Aristotle 
had  a  firmer  foothold  on  the  solid  earth. 

His  work  on  Polity,  or  Government,  has  been  thought  by 
the  greatest  masters  of  this  science  to  have  exhausted  the  sub- 
ject. In  style  it  is  somewhat  formal,  and  severely  logical  and 
exact.  He  is  sparing  of  words,  —  sometimes  too  much  so  for 
the  comfort  of  the  reader.  But  no  man  can  study  it  even  now 
without  surprise  at  the  knowledge,  sagacity,  and  wisdom  of  its 
author.     In  his  criticism  of  the  defects  and  errors  of  govern- 


180  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECiS. 

ments,  he  not  only  expounds  the  past  of  his  own  time,  but 
deals  prophetically  with  what  was  then  in  the  future ;  and  a 
large  part  of  his  principles  and  comments  are  as  applicable  now 
as  they  were  three-and-twenty  centuries  ago.  He  maintains 
that  the  legitimate  object  of  government  is  not  to  increase  the 
wealth  of  the  few,  nor  to  favor  the  poor  at  the  expense  of  the 
rich,  nor  to  encourage  mere  equality ;  nor  is  it  established  for 
mutual  defence  alone,  nor  for  the  promotion  of  trade  and  com- 
merce only,  nor  for  any  other  exclusively  material  purpose ; 
but  its  greatest  and  highest  aim  is,  to  make  virtuous  and  good 
citizens,  to  promote  the  happiness  arising  from  blamelessness  of 
life,  to  lead  to  the  perfecting  of  man's  social  and  moral  nature, 
and  to  encourage  those  great  and  noble  deeds  that  dignify  and 
adorn  one's  country.  Those,  therefore,  who  can  most  contrib- 
ute to  these  results  have  the  best  title  to  a  share  in  the  gov- 
ernment. The  object  of  all  good  government  is  the  pursuit  of 
the  common  welfare.  Tyranny  is  the  corruption  of  monarchy, 
oligarchy  of  aristocracy,  and  democracy  of  a  republic ;  for  tyr- 
anny is  monarchy  looking  only  to  the  interest  of  the  monarch, 
oligarchy  regards  the  interests  of  the  rich  alone,  and  democ- 
racy cares  only  for  the  interest  of  the  poor :  neither  consult- 
ing the  good  of  the  whole.  The  number  of  citizens  invested 
with  the  governing  power  in  a  state  ought  to  be  sufficient  to 
insure  all  the  purposes  of  security  and  well-being  for  which 
society  was  founded.  Differing  fundamentally  from  Plato,  he 
makes  the  family  —  the  institution  first  in  order,  and  growing 
out  of  daily  exigencies  —  the  basis  of  the  state  ;  next,  the  vil- 
lage ;  next,  a  collection  of  villages,  or  a  commonwealth  ;  —  so 
that  the  same  necessity  of  our  nature  that  leads  to  association 
produces  government,  and  man  is  just  as  much  formed  by 
nature  for  a  state  of  political  society,  as  he  is  for  the  simplest 
bonds  of  union,  those  of  the  family  and  the  village.  But  all 
systems  of  communism  he  rejects  as  impracticable  and  absurd, 
except  in  some  specific  cases,  under  particular  forms  of  admin- 
jstration,  in  which,  though  the  property  should  be  private,  the 
use  of  it  may  be  public.     One  of  the  reasons  why  he  reject? 


GOVERNMENT.  48] 

communism  is  remarkable.  "  To  give  pleasure  and  aid  to 
frierds,  guests,  or  companions,  is  the  greatest  of  delights  ;  and 
this  belongs  to  private,  individual  property."  Marriage  he 
recognizes  as  a  divine  institution,  designed  not  only  for  utility, 
but  for  happiness.  He  discerns  the  plan  of  Providence  in  the 
characteristics  of  the  sexes  which  fit  them  for  their  different 
careers  in  life,  —  the  nature  of  each  being  foreordained  by 
God,  and  pointing  to  the  union  of  both  for  their  mutual  hap- 
piness. He  has  made  the  one  stronger,  for  protection  and  de- 
fence ;  the  other  weaker,  for  watchfulness :  the  one  for  active 
life  out  of  doors,  the  other  for  quiet  domestic  occupations ; 
the  one  to  support  the  rising  family,  the  other  to  nurture  and 
educate  it.  In  another  work,  —  the  History*  of  Animals,  —  it 
is  true,  he  admits  that  there  are  some  men  who  have  the  quali- 
ties of  women,  and  some  women  who  have  the  loud  voice  of 
men,  and  can  vie  with  them  in  physical  strength  ;  and  he  adds, 
by  way  of  illustration,  that  it  has  been  observed  that  some  hens 
take  it  upon  themselves  to  crow,  and  so  far  unsex  themselves 
as  to  come  off  victorious  in  cock-fighting. 

The  duties  of  practical  statesmanship  are  thus  forcibly 
summed  up.  "  The  statesman  is  not  always  able  to  adopt 
the  measure  which  appears  to  his  judgment  to  be  clearly  the 
best,  but  is  obliged  to  put  up  with  that  which  circumstances 
enable  him  to  carry ;  and  he  is  bound  to  look,  not  to  the  pres- 
ent only,  but  to  the  stability  and  duration  of  his  country's  in- 
stitutions. He  must  observe  what  is  fitting  for  men  in  general, 
and  not  stand  out  for  what  is  theoretically  the  best ;  he  must 
aim  at  what  is  possible  and  acceptable,  and  not  follow  the 
example  of  those  who  are  never  content  but  with  some  fancied 
perfection.  It  is  not  an  easier  matter  to  renovate  a  constitu- 
tion than  to  found  one."  On  the  best  government  he  says : 
"  What  is  morally  true  of  individuals  is  also  true  of  a  govern- 
ment ;  for  a  government  represents  the  moral  life  of  a  commu- 
nity. Accordingly,  as  in  all  states  there  are  three  great  divis- 
•ons,  —  the  very  rich,  the  very  poor,  and  the  middle  classes, — ■ 
and  as  it  is  admitted  that  a  happy  mediocrity  is  the  thing  most 

VOL.    I.  31 


482  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

to  be  desired,  it  is  evident  that  the  best  condition  of  society  is 
that  in  which  the  middle  classes  most  abound  ;  for  of  all  classes 
they  are  the  most  likely  to  be  governed  by  calm  reason.  But 
the  two  extremes  of  society  —  the  very  wealthy  and  the  very 
powerful  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other,  the  necessitous, 
weak,  ignorant,  and  base  —  are  with  difficulty  brought  to  sub- 
mit to  reason.  The  former  are  overbearing,  and  wicked  on 
a  great  scale ;  the  latter  are  mischievous,  and  wicked  in  a  small 
way.  A  state  composed  of  these  two  extremes  may  be  said  t< 
consist  of  tyrants  and  slaves.  The  latter  know  not  how  t< 
rule,  but  must  submit  to  despotic  authority  ;  the  former  kno\"» 
not  how  to  obey,  but  will  exercise  a  tyrannical  sway  over  tht 

rest That  state  will  be  best  conducted  which  is  com 

posed,  as  far  as  possible,  of  those  whom  we  call  its  main  stay. 
For  they  neither  covet  what  does  not  belong  to  them,  nor  are 
they  exposed  to  envy;  and  being  neither  the  objects  nor  the 
authors  of  aggression,  their  position  is  secure.  Wherefore 
Phocylides  the  poet  wisely  prayed : 

'  Happiest  are  they  who  walk  the  middle  path ;  - 
That  middle  path  0  grant  me  in  the  state.' " 

Aristotle  saw  with  unerring  glance  the  dangers  that  beset 
popular  governments.  "  The  insolence  of  demagogues,"  sayt 
he,  "is  generally  the  cause  of  ruin  in  democracies.  First,  they 
calumniate  the  wealthy,  and  rouse  them  against  the  govern- 
nent,  thus  causing  opposite  parties  to  unite  against  a  common 
danger.  Next,  they  produce  the  same  result  by  stirring  up  the 
populace  and  creating  a  sense  of  insecurity.  Nearly  all  the 
tyrants  of  old  began  with  being  demagogues In  well- 
balanced  commonwealths,  besides  the  strict  observance  of  es- 
tablished laws,  it  is  especially  necessary  to  keep  a  close  watch 
upon  little  matters.  For  a  great  change  in  the  laws  may  creep 
on  gradually,  just  as  a  small  expense  often   incuned  ruins  a 

large  fortune Next,  let  men  be  on  their  guard  against 

those  who  flatter  and  mislead  the  multitude ;    their  actions 

prove  what  sort  of  men  they  are Of  the  tyrant,  spies  and 

informers  are  the  principal  instruments War  is  his  favor* 


GOVERNMENT.  48d* 

ite  occupation,  for  the  sake  of  engrossing  the  attention  of  the 
people,  and  making  himself  necessary  to  them  as  their  leader. 
An  unbridled  democracy  is  exactly  similar  to  a  tyranny.  Its 
objects  and  instruments  are  the  worst,  and  both  are  equally 
served  by  the  tamest  of  mankind.  It  is  always  anxious  to  loi-v 
it  as  a  sovereign :  it  therefore  has  its  flatterers  in  the  shape  of 
demagogues.  Ancient  customs  must  be  done  away  with  ;  an- 
cient ties,  civil  and  sacred,  must  be  broken ;  everything  must 
be  changed  according  to  new  and  false  theories ;  and  the  result 
is,  an  assimilation  of  democratic  to  tyrannical  government,  in 
its  habits  and  modes  of  action."  In  a  remarkable  passage  on 
the  functions  of  legislation,  he  says :  "  There  are  two  parts  of 
our  nature,  the  higher  and  the  lower.  The  latter  seems  to 
subsist  for  the  sake  of  the  former,  and  in  order,  under  right 
direction,  to  be  instrumental  to  its  development.  The  arts 
minister  to  and  aid  the  reason.  Labor  and  business  are  under- 
taken for  the  sake  of  leisure  ;  war,  for  the  sake  of  peace  ;  the 
most  necessary  and  useful  things,  for  the  sake  of  leading  to  the 
most  beautiful.  The  legislator,  therefore,  embracing  all  these 
in  his  consideration,  should  have  regard  not  to  the  inferior 
arts  and  results  alone,  but  to  the  highest  ends  and  objects  of 
our  existence.  Business  and  war  are  right  in  their  turn  ;  but 
far  better  are  peace  and  leisure.  The  things  necessary  and 
useful  to  our  daily  life  are  to  be  attended  to ;  but  even  more, 

the  true,  the  beautiful,  and  the  honorable The  military 

virtues  should  be  regarded  chiefly  as  the  means  of  maintaining 
peace ;  and  peace  and  leisure  should  be  made  fruitful  by  the 
devotion  of  men's  minds  to  justice  and  temperance,  philosophy 
and  wisdom,  in  which  alone,  and  not  in  idle  and  luxurious 
enjoyment,  true  happiness  consists." 

I  close  these  abstracts  of  doctrine  from  the  Polity  of  this 
great  philosopher  with  a  condensed  view  of  his  ideas  on  edu- 
cation. "  In  childhood  and  in  the  earliest  period  of  educa- 
tion, have  more  care  for  the  health  of  the  body  than  for  tin 
wind,  and  for  the  moral  character  than  for  the  intellectual. 
Let  nothing  base  or  servile,  vulgar  or  disgraceful,  meet  the 


484  THE  LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

eye  or  assail  the  ear  of  the  young ;  for  from  words  to  actions 
is  but  a  step.  Let  their  earliest  and  first  impressions  of 
all  things  be  the  best.  Let  them  be  taught  fully  all  the  es- 
sential elements  of  education,  and  as  much  of  what  is  useful 
in  a  merely  mechanical  point  of  view  as  will  have  the  effect 
of  rendering  the  body,  the  soul,  and  the  intellectual  powers 
capable  of  arriving  at  the  highest  excellence  of  their  respect- 
ive natures.  A  too  exclusive  devotion  to  some  of  the  mere 
mechanical  arts  is  apt  to  injure  the  bodily  faculties,  and  to 
depress  the  mind  by  unduly  absorbing  it.  Therefore  let 
not  only  those  things  be  learned  which  are  the  usual  instru- 
ments of  instruction,  but  those  which,  like  the  fine  arts, 
teach  us  how  to  enjoy  and  embellish  leisure.  The  merely 
useful  or  absolutely  necessary  matters  of  education  are  not 
the  only  ones  that  deserve  attention ;  but  to  those  should  be 
added  such  as  exalt  and  expand  the  mind,  and  convey  a  sense 
of  what  is  beautiful  and  noble.  For  to  be  looking  every- 
where to  the  merely  useful,  is  little  fitted  to  form  an  elevated 
character  or  a  liberal  mind."  Great  and  generous  sentiments 
these,  which,  if  adopted  in  the  government  of  a  state  and  the 
education  of  its  children,  would  most  assuredly  render  it  im- 
mortal. 

How  far  did  any  ancient  constitution  come  up  to  this  stand- 
ard of  the  most  practical  mind  of  antiquity?  Many  of  the 
faults  and  errors  of  government  which  Aristotle  blames  cer- 
tainly existed  in  the  Constitution  of  Athens,  which  I  proceed 
to  sketch  in  outline,  as  it  worked  during  the  historical  times, 
without  noticing  particularly  the  changes  and  adaptations  it 
underwent  from  period  to  period.  Madame  de  Stael,  in  her 
lively  manner,  said  to  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  "  Tell  me  all 
about  the  British  Constitution  in  ten  words."  I  shall  try  to 
do  the  same  with  the  Constitution  of  Athens ;  for  in  Athens 
the  chief  interest  concentrates,  in  this  as  in  so  many  other 
regards.  I  must  leave  out  of  the  view  the  numerous  boards 
appointed  to  transact  city  or  local  business,  to  examine  the 
qxialifications  of  candidates  for  office,  to  audit  their  accounts 


GOVERNMENT.  485 

on  leaving  office,  and  to  conduct  the  administration  of  the  rev- 
enue, —  a  very  interesting  and  instructive  subject,  admirably 
illustrated  by  Boeckh,  but  not  belonging  to  the  mere  outline  of 
the  government  now  proposed.  The  details  of  police  must  also 
be  omitted. 

The  people  of  Attica,  as  we  have  seen  on  the  authority 
of  Thucydides,  had  been  from  the  earliest  times  less  dis- 
turbed than  other  parts  of  Greece  by  great  immigrations  and 
the  inroads  of  invaders,  —  the  lightness  of  the  soil  and  the 
hilly  character  of  so  large  a  portion  of  the  territory  present- 
ing fewer  attractions  to  the  wandering  hordes  from  the  north. 
The  plains,  however,  especially  that  in  which  stood  the  city 
of  Athens,  watered  by  the  Cephissus  and  the  Ilissus,  became 
rich  and  beautiful  under  the  refining  hand  of  Attic  industry 
and  taste.  In  the  midst  of  this  plain  rose  the  rocky  hill 
around  which  the  town  was  formed,  and  on  which  were  built 
the  Parthenon,  the  Erechtheium,  and  the  Propylaea.  This 
was  virtually  the  focus  of  Hellenic  art  and  religion,  crowded 
not  only  with  temples,  but  with  altars  and  innumerable  stat- 
ues. On  the  southern  side  were  the  great  Dionysiac  Theatre 
and  the  Odeium  of  Pericles ;  on  the  west,  the  Temple  of 
Victory,  and  the  magnificent  entrance,  up  which  the  great 
Panathenaic  procession  wound  its  way  with  the  sacred  peplos 
of  Athene,  wrought  by  the  fairest  hands  in  Athens.  Just 
below  lay  the  Agora,  with  its  bustling  scenes  of  commerce, 
statues  of  the  Eponymic  heroes,  galleries,  and  courts  of  law ; 
beyond  rose  the  Pnyx,  the  place  of  popular  assembly ;  on  the 
north,  the  Areopagus,  the  Temple  of  the  Eumenides,  and  Co- 
lonus,  the  birthplace  of  Sophocles ;  on  the  east  and  northeast, 
at  a  short  distance,  those  immortal  hills,  Hymettus  and  Pen- 
telicus.  The  city  was  joined  to  the  port  of  Peirseus  by  the 
Long  Walls. 

The  Athenian  government  was  founded  on  a  territorial  di- 
vision into  ten  tribes,  named  after  ten  of  the  ancient  heroes, 
and  a  subdivision  into  demoi,  or  districts,  at  first  one  hundred 
in  number,  but  afterwards  increased  to  one  hundred  and  sev- 


486  THE  LIFE  OF  GREECE. 

enty-four.  These  were  named  from  the  chief  towns  in  them, 
as  Marathon,  Eleusis ;  or  from  the  names  of  leading  families 
or  clans,  as  Daedalidse,  Boutadae,  and  the  like.  Each  demos 
and  each  tribe,  like  our  towns  and  counties,  had  its  municipal 
organization,  with  religious  rites,  festivals,  property,  taxes,  and 
officers  of  various  kinds  to  execute  the  local  laws  and  regula- 
tions. In  designating  a  citizen,  it  was  customary,  at  least  in 
all  formal  documents,  to  affix  the  name  of  the  demos  to  which 
he  belonged,  as  well  as  his  father's  name,  as  Demosthenes,  the 
son  of  Demosthenes,  the  Paeanian. 

Notwithstanding  the  character  of  the  soil  of  Attica,  it  was 
the  most  populous  region  in  Greece,  on  account  of  its  indus- 
try and  extended  commerce.  It  is  one  of  the  most  difficult 
problems  of  antiquarian  science  to  ascertain  definitely  the  pop- 
ulation of  a  city  or  country  at  any  particular  epoch.  The 
number  of  the  citizens  of  Athens  who  shared  in  the  public 
affairs  is  usually  stated  as  between  twenty  and  thirty  thou- 
sand. Boeckh,  in  his  excellent  work  on  the  Public  Economy 
of  the  Athenians,  after  examining  all  the  facts,  and  the  con- 
clusions drawn  from  them  by  others,  rates  the  entire  population 
of  Attica  —  men,  women,  children,  and  slaves  —  at  five  hun- 
dred thousand,  as  a  probable  average.  The  ratio  of  the  free 
population  to  the  slaves  was  about  one  to  three.  Slaves  were 
more  humanely  treated  in  Athens  than  in  any  other  part  of 
Greece.  Aristotle  recognizes  them  as  property,  indeed;  but 
he  adds  that  they  are  also  persons,  having  rights  not  to  be 
violated.  They  were  brought  into  the  Athenian  market  from 
Thrace,  Lydia,  Phrygia,  and  other  parts  of  Asia,  and  even 
from  Africa.  The  highest  price  mentioned  as  paid  for  one 
was  a  talent,  or  about  eleven  hundred  dollars ;  but  prices 
varied  from  this  to  ten  dollars.  Government  slaves  were 
mostly  prisoners  of  war.  In  Athens  slaves  were  subjected 
to  vexatious  restrictions  with  regard  to  dress  and  ways  of 
life,  and  they  might  be  put  to  the  torture  as  witnesses  in  law 
cases  ;  but  they  were  also  under  the  protection  of  the  law, 
and  could   prosecute    their   masters   for  assault  and  battery. 


GOVEKNMENT.  487 

Hyperides,  as  quoted  by  Athenaeus,  says,  "  Our  laws  make 
no  distinction  in  this  respect  between  freemen  and  slaves; 
they  grant  to  all  alike  the  privilege  of  bringing  an  action 
against  those  who  insult  or  injure  them."  The  Constitution 
provided  that  slaves  might  purchase  their  own  freedom  so 
soon  as,  by  the  prudent  management  of  the  private  property 
secured  to  them  by  law,  they  were  able  to  pay  their  master 
a  fair  price  for  the  loss  of  their  services.  Almost  every  citizen 
owned  slaves ;  the  wealthier  classes,  a  large  number.  Plato 
says  that  a  citizen  often  owned  fifty.  The  father  of  Demos- 
thenes owned  more  than  fifty ;  Hipponicus  had  six  hundred ; 
and  Nicias  had  a  thousand  working  in  the  mines  alone. 

It  belongs  to  the  very  nature  of  the  servile  condition,  that 
those  who  are  its  victims  have  no  part  or  lot  in  the  administra- 
tion of  the  government.  By  Solon's  Constitution,  the  rights 
of  citizenship  depended  on  property  ;  and  a  numerous  class  of 
the  poorest  freemen,  as  well  as  the  slaves,  were  excluded  from 
the  political  franchise.  But  the  democratic  element  gained 
strength,  and  the  basis  of  citizenship  was  enlarged,  until  every 
free-born  Athenian,  of  the  legal  age,  and  not  disqualified  by 
crime,  had  his  full  share  in  the  government  of  the  state.  The 
official  persons  were  appointed  by  lot  or  election ;  it  being  as- 
sumed that  every  man  who  enjoyed  the  legal  rights  of  citizen- 
ship was  qualified  in  other  respects  to  discharge  the  duties  of 
any  office.  To  this,  however,  there  were  some  exceptions. 
Nine  magistrates  were  annually  elected,  under  the  title  of 
Archons.  One,  the  head  of  the  board,  was  called  the  Epony- 
mus,  and  the  acts  and  events  of  the  year  ran  in  his  name ;  the 
second  was  styled  the  King  Archon ;  the  third  was  named  the 
Polemarch,  because  originally  his  duties  related  to  the  depart- 
ment of  war ;  and  the  last  six  were  the  Thesmothetae,  so  called 
in  reference  to  the  annual  revision  of  the  laws.  These  officers 
were  the  official  heads  of  the  state,  so  far  as  the  state  had  an)' 
head  at  all.  The  legislative  bodies  were,  first,  the  Boule,  01 
Senate  of  Five  Hundred,  fifty  being  annually  drawn  by  lot 
from  each  tribe,  among  persons  not  under  thirty  years  of  age, 


488  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

and  in  all  respects  of  honorable  standing  as  citizens  ;  and,  sec- 
ondly, the  JUcclesia,  or  popular  assembly,  which  all  citizens 
of  legal  age  —  eighteen  or  twenty  —  were  entitled  to  attend. 
Every  subject  of  domestic  and  foreign  policy  was  discussed 
and  determined  by  these  two  bodies,  the  latter  of  which  met 
three  or  perhaps  four  times  every  month,  besides  being  calleo 
together  by  special  notice  on  sudden  or  very  important  emer- 
gencies. The  Senate  had  the  initiative  in  every  measure.  A 
bill  which  had  passed  that  body  was  called  a  probouleuma,  or 
preliminary  decree ;  and  having  passed  the  lower  body,  it  be- 
came a  psephisma,  or  law.  Negotiations  with  foreign  states 
were  carried  on  by  the  popular  assembly,  not  through  resident 
ministers,  but  through  ambassadors  sent  whenever  the  occasion 
called  for  such  a  mission.  As  the  salaries  of  foreign  ministers 
have  lately  become  an  interesting  subject  of  debate,  it  may  be 
mentioned  that  the  ministers  of  Athens  received  an  appro- 
priation of  two  shillings  a  day  for  the  whole  period  of  their 
absence.  The  consequence  was,  that  they  transacted  the 
business  as  quickly  as  possible.  But  the  example  is  not  to 
be  recommended.  Public  advocates  —  corresponding  to  our 
attorney-general  —  received  a  shilling  a  day ;  a  member  of 
the  Assembly,  nine  cents ;  a  Senator,  a  shilling. 

The  administration  of  justice  was  assigned  to  several  classes 
of  courts.  The  highest,  the  Areopagus,  was  made  up  of  the 
ex-archons  who  had  honorably  discharged  the  duties  of  their 
office.  This  court  and  the  Senate  were  regarded  by  Solon  as 
the  elements  of  stability  in  the  Constitution,  —  "  on  which  the 
state,  riding  as  upon  anchors,  might  be  less  tossed  by  storms." 
Two  courts  of  arbitrators,  consisting  of  citizens  who  had 
reached  the  middle  period  of  life,  —  forty  or  fifty  years  of 
age,  —  determined  a  great  variety  of  civil  actions,  without 
recourse  to  the  ordinary  tribunals.  There  were  many  other 
courts,  before  which  various  classes  of  actions  relating  to  mu- 
nicipal, civil,  and  military  affairs  were  brought.  Sometimes  the 
collective  body  of  the  people  resolved  themselves  into  a  tri- 
bunal, and  proceeded  to  try  a  special  case,  or  to  refer  it,  after 


GOVERNMENT.  489 

a  preliminary  inquiry,  to  one  of  the  regular  courts.  But  thb 
great  mass  of  the  legal  business  at  Athens  was  transacted  by 
the  dicasts,  or  jurymen,  of  the  Heliastic  courts,  of  which  there 
were  ten  in  number,  corresponding  to  the  ten  tribes.  Out  of 
those  members  of  the  several  tribes  who  were  thirty  years  of 
age  and  upwards,  and  who  possessed  all  the  rights  of  citizen- 
ship, five  thousand  were*  annually  drawn  by  lot,  under  the  su- 
perintendence of  the  archons  and  their  secretary ;  and  to  these 
were  added  a  thousand  supernumeraries,  making  the  whole 
number  six  thousand.  A  single  jury,  numbering  five  hun 
dred,  usually  constituted  a  court ;  but  sometimes,  when  the 
cause  appeared  to  be  of  great  public  interest  and  importance, 
two  or  three  were  united ;  so  that  the  number  of  dicasts  sitting 
in  a  single  case  might  vary  from  a  quorum  of  less  than  three 
hundred  to  a  thousand  or  fifteen  hundred.  Each  case  was  en- 
tered with  one  of  the  archons,  or  some  other  magistrate,  whose 
jurisdiction  was  fixed  by  law ;  and  he  prepared  it  for  trial  by 
the  court.  This  magistrate  was  said  to  have  the  hegemony,  or 
leadership  of  the  court,  because  he  not  only  took  preliminary 
charge  of  the  case,  but  presided  at  the  trial.  His  functions, 
however,  bore  no  resemblance  to  those  of  the  modern  judge. 
He  merely  determined,  in  the  first  instance,  whether  there 
was  any  ground  for  action ;  and  if  there  was,  officiated  as 
president,  maintaining  order,  and  putting  the  question  to  vote 
when  the  pleadings  were  over. 

The  courts  were  ready  for  business  except  on  festival  days 
and  the  days  of  assembly  meetings.  The  oath  administered  to 
each  dicast  before  taking  his  seat  is  given  by  Demosthenes,  in 
the  oration  against  Timocrates.  "  I  will  vote  according  to  the 
laws  and  the  decrees  of  the  people  of  Athens,  and  of  the  Sen- 
ate of  the  Five  Hundred,  and  I  will  not  vote  for  a  tyrant,  or 
an  oligarchy ;  and  if  any  one  should  attempt  to  overthrow  the 
popular  Constitution  of  Athens,  or  should  speak  or  vote  ad- 
versely to  its  principles,  I  will  not  support  him.  I  will  not 
vote  for  the  repudiation  of  private  debts,  nor  for  a  division  of 
the  land  of  the  Athenians,  nor  of  their  houses.     I  will  not  re- 


490  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

store  the  exiles,  nor  those  against  whom  sentence  of  death  has 
oeen  passed,  nor  will  I  exile  those  who  remain,  contrary  to  the 
existing  laws,  and  the  decrees  of  the  people  and  of  the  Senate 
of  the  Five  Hundred.  I  will  neither  do  these  things  myself, 
nor  will  I  permit  them  in  another.  Nor  will  I  establish  an 
office  to  be  held  by  one  who  has  not  rendered  account  of  a  pre- 
vious office ;  .  .  .  .  and  the  same  man  shall  not  hold  the  same 
office  twice,  nor  two  offices  in  the  same  year.  I  will  not  re- 
ceive bribes  on  account  of  the  court,  nor  shall  another  in  my 
behalf,  nor  shall  others  with  my  knowledge,  on  any  ground  or 
pretext  whatsoever.  I  am  not  less  than  thirty  years  of  age. 
I  will  hear  both  the  accuser  and  the  defendant  impartially,  and 
will  so  decide  on  the  matter  of  the  prosecution.  I  invoke  Zeus, 
Poseidon,  Demeter.  I  imprecate  destruction  on  myself  and 
my  house,  if  I  violate  any  of  these  obligations ;  but  if  I  keep 
my  oath,  I  pray  for  many  blessings." 

Law  cases  were  generally  divided  into  two  classes,  according 
as  they  affected  the  individual  or  the  public.  Another  distinc- 
tion was  made  between  cases  in  which  the  fine  or  penalty  was 
to  be  estimated  by  the  court,  and  those  in  which  it  had  been 
fixed  by  the  laws.  The  theory  of  legal  process  required  the 
parties  to  conduct  the  business  in  person.  There  was  no  bar, 
as  in  our  times ;  but  the  litigants  were  at  liberty  to  consult 
friends,  or  experts  in  the  law.  The  arguments  were  often 
written  out  by  persons  employed  and  paid  for  the  work,  and 
delivered  memoriter  by  the  parties.  This  system  had  at  least 
the  advantage  of  enabling  the  lawyer  to  get  a  fee  on  both 
sides.  In  the  course  of  time,  the  advocate  was  allowed  to 
appear  for  his  client ;  and  in  certain  cases  public  prosecutors 
were  appointed,  and  their  fees  determined  by  law.  Thus, 
though  in  form  there  was  no  Athenian  bar,  the  necessities  of 
the  public  administration  of  justice  established  customs  and 
usages  which  amounted  to  the  same  thing.  The  dicast  re- 
ceived from  the  paymaster  three  obols,  or  about  nine  cents, 
for  every  day's  work.     The  decision  was  given  by  ballot. 

No  doubt  the  law  was  in  general  fairly  administered  by  the 


GOVERNMENT.  491 

Athenian  courts.  Every  question  involving  rights  of  person 
or  property  was  discused  with  consummate  ability,  as  we  know 
by  the  extant  pleadings  of  the  Athenian  advocates.  But 
there  was  no  learned,  upright,  and  independent  judge  to  rule 
the  points  of  law,  and  to  sum  up  the  evidence  in  the  case. 
The  dicasts  took  the  law  and  the  facts  into  their  own  hands ; 
and  from  their  verdict,  however  unjust,  there  lay  no  appeal. 
The  passions  of  the  moment  were  excluded  from  the  seats  of 
justice  by  no  barrier  which  they  could  not  easily  overleap. 
The  consequence  was, —  and  it  is  a  most  instructive  fact  in  the 
history  of  jurisprudence,  —  that  the  courts  of  Athens,  at  times, 
were  stained  with  acts  of  perjury  and  blood,  which  fill  us  with 
contempt  and  horror  as  we  read  them ;  and  for  the  moment 
we  feel  no  surprise  that  Plato,  after  the  judicial  murder  of 
Socrates,  placed  them  on  the  same  level  with  other  mobs.  But 
this  at  least  may  be  said,  that  the  administration  of  the  law 
was  open  and  public,  and  became  a  matter  of  history.  Despots 
have  another  mode  of  compassing  the  ends  of  injustice.  The 
stealthy  arrest,  the  prison  hidden  from  every  human  eye  except 
the  keeper's,  the  secret  execution,  shut  their  judicial  misdeeds 
from  the  blaze  of  notoriety,  in  which  the  death  of  Socrates  and 
that  of  the  generals  of  Arginusae  have  received  the  execration 
of  the  world. 

The  idea  of  trial  by  jury  lay  at  the  foundation  of  the  legal 
procedure  of  the  Athenians ;  but  with  no  judge,  with  juries 
of  five  hundred,  a  thousand,  or  fifteen  hundred,  and  with  their 
comprehensive  powers,  the  courts  were  inevitably  liable  to 
be  swayed  by  the  gusts  of  popular  passion  ;  and  we  gain  a 
very  important  lesson,  when  we  contrast  the  different  results 
under  the  different  method  of  applying  the  same  principles  in 
our  own  courts,  and  see  how  greatly  the  security  for  every 
Bpecies  of  right  is  increased  by  a  few  simple  safeguards, 
chiefly  suggested  by  Anglo-Saxon  tact  and  experience.  The 
defect  in  the  political  arrangements  of  Greece  was  the  want 
of  a  federal  union  with  an  effective  central  government.  The 
defect  in  the  Constitution  of  Athens  was  the  want  of  a  distinct 


492  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

executive  head,  and  the  blending  of  legislative,  judicial,  and  ex- 
ecutive functions  in  the  same  persons.  But  we  can  trace  every 
maxim  of  civil  prudence  to  the  philosophers  and  statesmen  of 
Greece.  In  the  practical  working  of  the  liberal  institutions  of 
Athens,  commerce,  industry,  and  the  arts  flourished ;  and  this 
shows  a  high  degree  of  confidence  in  the  wisdom  of  the  gov- 
ernment. Abuses,  no  doubt,  existed,  and  crimes  were  com- 
mitted ;  but  during  the  whole  history  of  the  courts  of  Athens, 
nothing  was  perpetrated  so  bad  as  the  judicial  murders  which 
have  stained  the  annals  of  England,  no  deed  so  dark  and 
damning  as  the  bloody  trials  for  witchcraft  in  our  own  model 
State.  The  Demos  of  Athens  was  encroaching  and  arrogant ; 
he  longed  after  the  lands  of  his  neighbors ;  he  annexed  the  cit- 
ies and  islands  of  the  iEgean  Sea ;  he  wanted  to  annex  Sicily, 
because  it  might  else  give  a  foothold  from  which  his  rival,  the 
Spartan,  could  annoy  him  ;  and  he  thought  that  his  irresistible 
destiny  beckoned  him  thither.  But  with  all  his  faults  and 
vices,  he  developed  the  ideas  of  law,  order,  and  justice,  which 
lie  at  the  basis  of  good  government  wherever  existing ;  and  he 
left  the  imperishable  records  of  his  wisdom  and  experience  as 
fountains  of  instruction  to  the  world. 


LECTURE    XII. 

LITERATUEE.  —  THE   THEATRE. 

Greek  literature  is  the  basis  of  modern  civilization.  Of  its 
absolute  merits  as  an  instrument  of  culture,  no  reasonable  per- 
son, with  competent  knowledge,  can  entertain  a  doubt.  To  its 
importance  in  the  systems  of  study  on  which  modern  educa- 
tion rests,  the  best  minds  have  borne  the  strongest  testimony. 
It  was  remarked  that  in  the  circle  of  Greek  education  foreign 
languages  found  no  place,  and  in  this  respect  we  certainly  have 
an  advantage  over  the  ancients.  As  an  extensive  intercourse 
with  the  world  removes  prejudices  and  enlarges  the  mind,  so  a 
range  of  study  which  embraces  foreign  languages  and  their 
literature  furnishes  a  wider  scope  for  the  exercise  of  reason, 
judgment,  and  taste,  and  creates  a  higher  point  of  observation, 
whence  we  may  survey  the  achievements  of  man  in  the  exer- 
cise of  his  loftiest  faculties.  But  before  the  Greeks  there  were 
no  Greeks  to  study ;  and  in  the  time  of  the  Greeks,  they  could 
do  nothing  better  than  study  themselves.  The  classics  of  their 
own  language  were  their  only  classics ;  and  the  thoroughness 
of  their  training  in  these  was  a  point  in  their  education  which 
deserves  the  respect  of  all  times.  We  can  be  familiar  with 
them,  and  with  our  own  writers  besides.  The  latter  need  not 
be  neglected  on  account  of  the  former.  We  should  do  the 
one,  and  not  leave  the  other  undone.  We  should  study 
Homer,  but  Milton  also ;  we  should  make  Shakespeare  the 
companion  of  iEschylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides ;  and  Aris- 
tophanes should  be  illustrated  by  Goldsmith  and  Sheridan. 

Plato  intimates  that  the  invention  of  writing,  which  he  at- 
tributes to  an  Egyptian  deity,  had  weakened  the  faculty  of 


494  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

memory.  It  may  be  so ;  but  I  think  no  reasonable  man  would 
hesitate  to  surrender,  if  necessary,  a  portion  of  his  individual 
memory  for  an  art  which  eternizes  the  memory  of  the  human 
race,  and  by  intellectual  intercourse  binds  the  nations  and  the 
ages  together.  To  us,  literature  presents  certainly  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  aspects  of  the  life  of  Greece.  Its  relation  to  the 
daily  being  and  enjoyments  of  men  was,  however,  in  many  re- 
spects very  different  from  that  which  the  art  of  printing  and 
the  abundance  of  books  have  given  to  it  in  our  day.  It  affect- 
ed the  taste,  mind,  and  heart,  more  through  the  ear  than  by 
the  written  page.  The  Homeric  poems  were  delivered,  first 
by  the  author  himself,  and  then  by  singers,  who  travelled  like 
actors  from  place  to  place,  and  rehearsed  the  divine  verses 
from  memory  to  enchanted  multitudes.  When  the  epic  age 
passed  away,  the  lyric  succeeded ;  and  here,  too,  public  deliv- 
ery, accompanied  by  the  music  of  instruments  and  the  rhyth- 
mical movements  of  numerous  choruses,  was  the  form  in  which 
the  poet  addressed  himself  to  the  general  mind.  The  national 
games  and  local  festivals  were  occasions  on  which  not  only 
poetry  found  a  voice,  but  even  history  and  philosophy  attracted 
attention  and  won  applause.  Herodotus,  reading  his  immortal 
work  at  the  Panathenaea,  is  one  of  the  commonplaces  of  classi- 
cal allusion.  The  discourses  of  the  philosophers  in  the  public 
square,  the  gymnasium,  and  the  panegyrical  assemblies,  gave  an 
intellectual  cast  to  scenes  originally  connected,  only  with  busi- 
ness or  with  contests  of  physical  strength.  At  the  Panathe- 
naic  festival,  the  most  gorgeous  ceremonial  in  Athens,  rhap- 
sodists,  appointed  by  public  authority,  rehearsed  the  poems 
of  Homer.  Musical  and  lyrical  contests  were  held  in  the 
Odeium,  and  discourses  delivered,  of  which  the  Panathenaicus 
—  one  of  the  most  finished  orations  of  Isocrates  —  affords  an 
interesting  specimen. 

The  public  debates  —  the  harangues  of  the  orators,  which 
were  not  listened  to,  unless  they  had  received  the  last  touches 
)f  literary  elegance  —  must  be  regarded  as  a  very  important 
means  of  intellectual  influence,  instruction,  and  delight,  from 


LITERATURE.  495 

the  time  of  Solon  down  to  the  death  of  Demosthenes.  Im- 
agine the  majestic  person  of  Pericles,  —  Olympian  Pericles,  — 
speaking  to  the  people  of  Athens  in  those  magnificent  periods 
which  made  men  say  that  he  thundered,  and  lightened,  and 
stirred  up  all  Hellas.  Imagine  the  austere  and  sorrowful  coun- 
tenance of  Demosthenes,  when,  after  his  patriotic  hopes  have 
been  dashed  to  the  ground  by  the  disastrous  battle  of  Chaero- 
nea,  the  occasion  is  seized  by  his  personal  and  political  ene- 
mies to  assail  his  public  and  private  character,  to  impeach  his 
motives,  to  overbear  him  with  invective  and  slander,  to  load 
his  private  life  with  the  loathsome  calumnies  of  malice  and 
personal  hatred,  to  make  the  people,  who  have  honored  and 
trusted  him,  believe  that  he  is  profligate  in  morals  and  the  hire- 
ling of  northern  gold  ;  —  he,  who  exhausted  the  midnight  lamp 
in  studies  that  have  made  his  works  immortal ;  who  upheld  the 
public  faith,  when  an  attempt  was  made  to  break  it  down ;  who 
year  after  year  rallied  the  faltering  courage  of  his  countrymen, 
and  breasted  the  onsets  of  the  Macedonian ;  who  labored,  spar- 
ing neither  time,  nor  strength,  nor  health,  to  unite  the  Greeks 
against  domestic  treason  and  foreign  levy ;  who,  when  his 
only  daughter  died,  strove  to  forget  the  anguish  that  wrung 
his  heart  by  increased  devotion  to  the  honor  and  glory  of  his 
country ;  who  was  liberal  above  measure  of  his  private  fortune, 
to  redeem  captives  and  relieve  the  wants  of  the  poor,  and  for 
this  was  libelled  by  JEschines  the  slanderer  as  a  spendthrift 
who  had  ridiculously  wasted  his  property; — he  to  whom  the 
august  image  of  Athens,  standing  on  the  loftiest  height  of  glo- 
ry in  this  world,  surrounded  by  the  memorials  of  her  heroes, 
sages,  and  artists,  was  the  most  inspiring  theme  of  eloquence, 
until  his  dying  day  ;  —  imagine  this  man,  whose  genius  has 
been  his  country's  stay  and  staff  for  thirty  years,  without  his 
having  been  the  official  head  of  the  state,  rising  to  vindicate  his 
character  and  policy  before  his  assembled  countrymen.  Eight 
years  have  passed  since  tr.e  first  step  in  the  trial  was  taken. 
The  rumor  of  the  contest  nas  gone  forth  to  every  corner  of  the 
Grrecian  world.    Crowds,  greater  than  ever  thronged  to  a  festi- 


496  THE  LIFE   OF   GEEECE. 

val,  fill  the  city,  and  press  to  the  centre  of  interest.  The  &<s 
cusation  is  over;  powerful,  plausible,  vehement,  vindictive,  per- 
haps unanswerable.  Demosthenes  is  a  great  criminal,  and  his 
whole  policy  is  a  great  crime.  Can  he  cleanse  his  fair  fame  of 
the  perilous  stuff  which  has  been  dashed  upon  it  ?  Some  are 
filled  with  doubt ;  others  with  fear  or  hope ;  all  with  expecta- 
tion wrrought  to  an  intolerable  intensity.  He  rises  calmly  and 
solemnly.  The  temples  and  images  of  his  country's  gods  stand 
before  him  on  yonder  height,  and  he  utters  slowly  and  ear- 
nestly a  prayer  for  their  protection  in  the  danger  that  has  fallen 
upon  him.  There  stand  the  Propylsea  and  the  Arsenal ;  in 
the  Peiraean  harbor  rides  the  fleet,  which  has  always  been  the 
object  of  his  patriotic  care.  With  these  emblems  of  Athenian 
genius  and  power  appealing  to  the  present  sense,  can  he  doubt 
that  his  countrymen  will  justify  him  for  pursuing  a  policy  in 
accordance  with  the  illustrious  history  of  the  past  ?  Will  they 
judge  him  by  the  result,  which  was  in  the  hands  of  God,  and 
lay  beyond  the  scope  of  human  wisdom  ?  Will  they  take 
their  stand  with  him  on  the  serene  heights  of  national  honor, 
and,  if  fall  they  must,  fall  at  least  with  dignity  ?  or  will  they 
give  the  lie  to  former  noble  deeds,  and  condemn  themselves  in 
condemning  him  ?  "  It  is  not  true,"  he  exclaims,  "  it  is  not 
true,  men  of  Athens,  that  you  erred  in  taking  on  yourselves 
the  peril  for  the  liberty  and  safety  of  all.  No !  by  your  an- 
cestors, who  breasted  the  first  shock  of  danger  at  Marathon ; 
by  those  who  stood  in  battle  array  on  the  field  of  Plataea ;  by 
those  who  fought  the  sea-fight  of  Salamis ;  by  those  who  fell  at 
Artemisium  ;  and  by  the  many  others  who  rest  in  the  public 
sepulchres,  —  brave  men,  —  to  all  of  whom  the  city,  deeming 
them  worthy  of  the  same  honor,  gave  a  public  burial, — not, 
/Eschines,  to  those  only  who  had  been  successful  or  victori- 
ous, —  and  justly  ;  for  the  duty  of  brave  men  has  been  done 
by  all ;  but  they  have  borne  the  fortune  which  was  allotted  to 
each  by  the  will  of  God." 

The  force  of  the  argument,  the  grandeur  of  its  ethical  anc1 
religious  tone,  the  overwhelming  eloquence   of  the  appeal  U 


LITERATURE.  497 

whatever  was  noblest  in  the  patriotic  spirit,  most  inspiring  in 
the  proud  recollections  of  ancestral  renown,  —  the  earnestness 
and  boldness  of  innocence  and  truth,  —  so  wrought  both  on 
citizens  and  on  strangers,  that  long  before  the  trial  was  over 
the  libeller  of  his  country's  most  illustrious  citizen  and  greatest 
statesman  withdrew  from  the  scene,  left  the  city  and  Attica 
itself,  passed  over  to  Rhodes,  where  he  became  a  teacher  of 
rhetoric,  and  never  again  showed  his  face  in  Athens. 

The  transactions  of  public  life  were  not  all  tainted  with  the 
spirit  of  the  demagogue.  If  in  reading  Demosthenes  even  now 
one  finds  it  difficult  to  sit  still  or  keep  silent,  what  must  have 
been  the  moral  effect  upon  those  who  stood  on  the  spot,  under 
all  the  influences  of  that  unparalleled  scene,  with  the  throb- 
bing passions  of  the  moment,  and  listened  to  the  voice  of  the 
patriot  and  orator,  who  has  been  equalled  but  once  in  the 
history  of  constitutional  liberty  ! 

Though  the  popular  influence  of  literature,  both  in  poetry 
and  prose,  depended  on  the  excitement  of  personal  presence 
and  oral  delivery,  the  means  and  materials  were  not  wanting 
for  publication  by  multiplying  copies.  I  cannot  doubt  that 
Homer  and  his  successors  had  manuscript  copies  of  the  poems 
which  it  was  their  vocation  to  deliver  from  city  to  city.  We 
are  told  that  there  was  something  like  a  library  collected  at 
Athens  in  the  age  of  Peisistratus.  We  hear  of  cities  possessing, 
at  a  very  early  period,  editions  of  the  poems  of  Homer.  The 
earliest  materials  used  for  writing  were  wood,  stone,  the  bark 
of  trees,  metallic  and  ivory  tablets,  and,  afterward,  the  skins 
of  animals.  The  trade  with  Egypt  undoubtedly  introduced 
papyrus  into  general  use  at  a  time  earlier  than  is  usually  sup- 
posed. Tablets,  prepared  with  a  coating  of  wax,  were  fre- 
quently employed.  The  advantage  they  presented  over  some 
other  materials  consisted  in  the  facility  of  correcting  or  alter- 
ing what  had  been  written,  by  turning  the  stylus  and  passing 
the  flat  end  over  the  yielding  surface.  The  kings  of  Pergamus 
rivalled  the  Ptolemies  in  their  patronage  of  literature.  Under 
their  influence  great  improvements  were  made  in  the  man« 

VOL.   i.  32 


498  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

ufacture  of  parchment,  called  pergamena,  and  the  books  in 
their  libraries  were  written  on  the  finest  quality  of  this  article. 
The  formation  of  the  immense  libraries  in  Alexandria  gave  a 
similar  impulse  to  improvement  in  the  manufacture  of  the  pa- 
pyrus ;  so  that,  in  the  Roman  times,  the  dealers  offered  for  sale 
many  varieties,  from  the  coarse  kind,  used,  like  our  brown  pa- 
per, to  wrap  parcels  in,  up  to  the  Augustan  charta  of  the  most 
delicate  tissue,  employed  by  kings  and  emperors  in  their  jour- 
nals and  correspondence. 

The  stylus,  or  metallic  pen,  was  never  used  for  writing  on 
papyrus  or  parchment.  The  unhappy  modern  who  introduced 
this  instrument  of  torture  deserves  to  sit  at  his  desk  with  noth- 
ing but  steel  pens  during  a  wretched  immortality.  The  age 
of  calligraphy  is  gone,  and  the  iron  age  has  succeeded  it.  The 
ancient  pen  was  made  of  the  Egyptian  reed,  cut  down  to  a 
point,  split  exactly  like  the  quill,  and  thence  called  cloven- 
footed.  The  ink  most  commonly  used  was  black,  and  some  of 
it  —  the  Egyptian  ink  —  was  so  excellent  and  durable,  that  let- 
ters, hieroglyphs,  and  figures,  traced  more  than  five-and-twenty 
centuries  ago,  have  the  freshness  and  gloss  of  yesterday.  The 
inkstands,  some  of  which  have  been  found  in  Pompeii,  were 
made  much  like  our  own,  single  for  one  kind  of  ink,  or  double 
for  red  and  black,  and  round  or  hexagonal.  One  was  dis- 
covered at  Herculaneum,  containing  ink,  which,  though  some- 
what thick,  could  still  be  used  for  writing.  The  inks  of  the 
ancients  are  thought  to  have  resembled  printer's  ink,  and  not  to 
have  been  so  flowing  as  those  now  in  use.  The  Roman  satirist, 
Persius,  describes  an  author  who  attributed  the  sluggish  current 
jf  his  ideas  to  the  thickness  of  his  ink,  —  a  natural  delusion, 
»vhich  every  one  in  the  habit  of  writing  must  have  often  ex- 
perienced. For  our  knowledge  of  the  actual  details  in  the 
preparation  and  materials  of  Greek  books,  we  have  to  depend 
on  Egypt,  and  the  buried  cities  of  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii. 
In  Egypt,  the  use  of  paper  rolls  written  in  hieroglyphic,  hie- 
ratic, or  demotic  characters  dates  from  a  very  remote  period 
The  copy  of  the  Book  of  the  Dead,  published  by  Lepsius,  is 


LITERATURE.  499 

jupposel  by  him  to  belong  to  the  fifteenth  eentary  before 
Christ.  Fragments  of  manuscript  contracts  and  documents 
in  Greek,  and  of  Greek  poets,  have  been  found  in  considerable 
numbers,  belonging  to  the  Ptolemaean  period,  and  dating  three 
centuries  before  Christ.  These  are  deposits  taken  from  tombs 
which,  built  in  the  solid  rock  and  free  from  the  slightest  moist- 
ure, preserved  them  until  the  monuments  were  opened  in 
the  course  of  modern  researches.  Very  recently,  numerous 
and  important  fragments  of  an  oration  of  Hypereides  against 
Demosthenes  —  one  often  mentioned  by  the  ancients,  but  sup- 
posed to  be  irrecoverably  lost  —  have  been  found  in  a  collec- 
tion of  old  papyri,  and  published.  Two  libraries,  containing  a 
considerable  number  of  manuscripts,  —  one  in  a  villa  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Herculaneum,  another  in  the  house  called  that 
of  the  Tragic  Poet  of  Pompeii, — have  restored  a  large  amount 
of  lost  literature.  These  rolls  or  volumes,  though  retaining 
their  original  shape,  are  nearly  reduced  to  coal,  and  can  be 
opened  only  by  the  nicest  care  and  the  most  skilfully  devised 
apparatus.  Several  have  been  successfully  unrolled  and  pub- 
lished, —  among  the  rest,  a  treatise  on  Music  by  Philodemus, 
a  Greek  author  contemporary  with  Cicero. 

The  Greek  writers  employ  all  the  terms  belonging  to  books 
and  to  the  practice  of  writing.  We  know  that  their  system 
of  legal  pleadings,  of  court-records,  and  of  keeping  accounts 
in  the  public  offices,  their  registers  of  citizens,  commercial 
transactions,  epistolary  correspondence,  and  state  archives, 
from  a  very  early  period,  must  have  required  an  immense 
supply  of  writing  materials ;  and  that  the  Egyptian  papyrus  was 
the  preferred  material  is  most  probable.  We  know  that  hooks 
abounded  in  Athens  at  the  time  of  the  great  tragedians,  or  as 
early  as  the  fifth  century  before  Christ,  and  that  copies  of  their 
pieces  were  in  circulation.  The  orators  after  Pericles  were 
accustomed  to  write  out  their  discourses,  and  some,  like  Isoc- 
rates,  depended  wholly  on  this  mode  of  communication  with  the 
public.  Aristotle  possessed  an  immense  library,  which  was  sold 
ifter  his  death.    Whether  Plato  had  one  or  not,  we  cannot  say. 


500  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

He  makes  no  mention  of  books  in  his  will,  unless  they  are  in- 
cluded under  the  general  term  furniture.  Books  were  exporteu 
from  Athens  to  the  Greek  colonies;  and  even  book-auctions  are 
mentioned  as  taking  place  in  a  particular  part  of  the  agora. 
Yet  so  thoroughly  has  Greece  been  ravaged  in  the  long  cen- 
turies since  her  life  of  glory  that  no  remains  of  the  libraries 
of  her  orators  and  poets  have  been  found.  Their  works  were 
preserved  in  transcripts  made  at  other  seats  of  learning,  which 
passed  down  in  a  series  of  copies  reaching  from  the  third 
century  before  to  the  seventeenth  after  Christ,  or  through  a 
period  of  two  thousand  years.  There  is  no  doubt,  however, 
that  books  were  made  in  Greece,  as  they  were  in  Egypt 
and  in  the  Greek  cities  of  Italy,  by  copyists,  under  the  vari- 
ous names  of  Calligraphoi,  Tachygraphoi,  and  Chrysographoi, 
handsome  writers,  fast  writers,  and  gold  writers,  so  called  from 
their  writing  in  letters  of  gold,  the  preparation  of  which  is 
described  by  Montfau^on.  The  paper  was  made  from  the  thin 
coats  of  the  papyrus-plant,  a  layer  of  which  was  put  on  a 
board,  and  another  layer  over  it  at  right  angles.  These  layers 
were  joined  by  water  from  the  Nile,  which  possessed  a  gluti- 
nous property,  and  then  dried  in  the  sun.  The  sheets  were  then 
pasted  together,  side  by  side,  so  as  to  form  a  strip  of  from 
twelve  to  fourteen  inches  wide,  and  of  any  length  that  might 
be  desired.  When  ready  for  use,  the  pages  were  written 
down  the  sheets,  the  width  of  the  strip  making  the  length  of 
the  page.  When  the  work  was  finished,  it  was  rolled  round  a 
stick,  from  which  came  the  name  volumen,  or  roll.  Commonly 
at  the  extremity  of  the  stick  there  were  ornamented  balls. 
The  ends  of  the  roll  were  carefully  polished,  and  the  whole, 
for  protection,  was  put  into  a  case  'of  parchment.  The  title  of 
the  book  was  written  on  a  separate  strip  or  ticket  attached  to 
the  roll.  In  libraries,  the  books  were  arranged  on  shelves,  with 
the  ends  outward,  or  in  pigeon-holes  ;  or  they  were  kept  in  cir- 
cular boxes,  with  elegantly  ornamented  lids.  The  reader  took 
the  scroll  in  his  hand,  unrolling  it  as  he  advanced,  and  rolling 
it  up  with  the  other  hand,  as  he  completed  the  successive 
pages. 


THE  THEATRE.  501 

With  all  the  appliances  of  ancient  skill  in  making  books, 
they  remained  comparatively  dear.  The  means  placed  in  the 
hands  of  Aristotle  enabled  him  to  compete  with  princes  in 
forming  his  collection.  A  large  fortune  would  have  been  re- 
quired to  purchase  as  many  volumes  as  may  now  be  found  in 
houses  of  very  moderate  pretensions.  For  literary  culture,  the 
great  majority  of  the  Greeks,  even  of  the  Athenians,  must 
have  depended  on  public  discourses,  on  musical  and  lyrical 
representations,  and  especially  on  the  stage. 

Athens  surpassed  all  other  states  in  the  number  and  bril- 
liancy of  her  festivals,  and  in  the  lavish  expenditure  which  her 
great  resources  and  the  popular  policy  of  her  rulers  enabled 
her  to  supply.  The  national  wealth  of  Athens  was  considered, 
even  as  late  as  the  time  of  Demosthenes,  to  be  equal  to  that  of 
all  the  other  states  together,  being  estimated  at  thirty-five  thou- 
sand talents,  or  forty  millions  of  dollars.  The  public  revenue 
at  the  most  flourishing  financial  period  is  computed  by  Boeckh 
to  have  been  eighteen  hundred  talents,  or  nearly  two  million  dol- 
lars. The  legal  rate  of  interest  at  Athens  was  twelve  per  cent ; 
but  twenty  or  even  thirty  per  cent  was  often  paid.  Judging 
by  this  standard,  the  present  value  of  the  revenue  should  be 
doubled.  But  perhaps  even  this  does  not  fairly  represent  the 
case  ;  for  the  prices  of  articles  of  subsistence  were  very  much 
lower  than  at  the  present  day.  The  family  of  Demosthenes, 
consisting  of  three  persons  after  the  death  of  his  father,  lived 
upon  an  expenditure  of  seven  minae  a  year  —  which  would  be 
one  hundred  and  twenty-six  dollars  —  exclusive  of  house-rent 
and  the  education  of  two  children.  An  unmarried  man  might 
live  tolerably  well  on  a  hundred  and  fifty  or  two  hundred  dol- 
lars. The  state  expenditures  were  the  disbursements  for  public 
buildings,  festivals,  and  sacrifices,  the  pay  of  the  senate,  the 
assembly,  the  public  physician,  singers,  musicians,  actors,  the 
navy  and  the  army,  and,  from  the  time  of  Pericles,  the  iheoricon^ 
or  admission-fee  of  the  people  to  tne  theatre  and  other  shows, 
which  amounted  annually  to  a  very  large  sum,  since  every 
citizen  who  chose  could  draw  two  obols,  and  in  some  casei 


502  THE  LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

more,  from  the  treasury,  for  every  exhibition.  This  last  charge 
could  not  have  fallen  much  short  of  forty  thousand  dollars. 

The  expense  of  bringing  out  the  dramatic  pieces  was  borne, 
iike  other  costly  offices,  by  the  wealthier  citizens  of  the  several 
tribes,  and  was  classed  under  the  general  term  of  liturgies,  be- 
ing placed  as  a  public  duty  on  the  same  footing  with  the  fitting 
out  of  war  ships,  called  the  trierarchic  liturgy,  and  with  various 
public  entertainments,  which  came  in  regular  order  and  were 
assessed  according  to  the  property  census.  The  drama  was  not 
a  mere  amusement  at  Athens,  though  the  comic  drama,  in  the 
hands  of  Aristophanes,  was  sufficiently  amusing.  It  was  con- 
nected with  the  great  festivals  of  the  national  worship,  and 
tragedy  at  least  —  solemn  and  wonderful  tragedy,  as  Plato 
calls  it  —  embraced  a  very  large  portion  of  the  moral  and 
religious  instruction  of  the  people ;  for  it  was  not  a  limited  en- 
tertainment, nor  in  any  sense  of  the  word  a  private  specula- 
tion. It  was  under  the  direction  of  the  chief  archon,  to  whom 
the  pieces  were  in  the  first  instance  submitted  by  the  poets.  A 
body  of  actors,  in  the  pay  of  the  state,  was  at  his  disposal ;  and 
he  assigned  three  to  each  competing  poet,  as  well  as  a  chorus, 
which  always  formed  one  of  the  most  characteristic  features  of 
the  Athenian  drama.  The  innumerable  occasions  on  which 
solemn  representations,  consisting  of  poetical  recitation,  accom- 
panied by  rhythmical  movement  and  the  music  of  instruments, 
—  the  flute  or  the  lyre,  —  were  held,  from  the  earliest  times, 
had  accustomed  the  people  to  the  spectacle  of  the  chorus, 
and  trained  large  bodies  of  men  for  it.  From  these  the  ar- 
chon selected  the  requisite  number,  twelve  or  fifteen  for  a 
tragedy,  and  twenty-five  for  a  comedy,  and  assigned  them  to 
each  poet.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  citizen  on  whom  the  dra- 
matic liturgy  of  his  tribe  had  fallen  to  support  and  train  the 
chorus,  under  the  superintendence  of  the  poet,  at  his  own 
expense ;  and  this  office  was  generally  performed  with  as  much 
public  spirit  and  ambition  for  popular  applause  as  the  gravest 
functions  ever  undertaken  in  the  service  of  the  state. 

Every  city  in  Greece  had  its  theatre ;  not  exclusively  for 


THE  THEATER  503 

dramatic  entertainments,  but  also  for  various  religious  services, 
and  for  meetings  for  public  business.  The  great  Dionysiac 
theatre  at  Athens  was  commenced  in  the  time  of  ./Eschylus,  and 
not  completed  until  the  time  of  Lycurgus  the  orator,  who  was 
intrusted  with  the  charge  of  the  public  treasury  at  Athens  for 
the  unexampled  period  of  fifteen  years, — a  man  of  such  rigid 
honesty,  that,  when  his  own  wife  violated  the  law  which  he  had 
caused  to  be  enacted,  prohibiting  women  from  riding  in  chari- 
ots in  the  public  processions,  he  brought  her  to  trial  and  had 
her  fined.  What  Madame  thought  of  this  energetic  conjugal 
procedure,  she  has  nowhere  recorded.  He  not  only  completed 
the  theatre,  but  caused  bronze  statues  to  be  raised  to  JEschy- 
lus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides,  and  copies  of  their  works  to  be 
taken  and  deposited  in  the  archives  of  the  city. 

Whether  women  attended  the  theatre  at  all,  and,  if  they  did, 
whether  they  sat  by  themselves,  are  questions  much  discussed 
by  the  curious ;  but  several  of  the  plots  of  Aristophanes  seem 
to  me  to  imply  a  knowledge  of  the  plays  of  Euripides  among 
the  women  hardly  to  be  acquired  except  by  frequent  attend- 
ance at  the  theatre.  The  fact  is  almost  expressly  stated  by 
Plato,  in  two  or  three  passages,  where  the  influence  of  the 
stage  upon  female  morals  is  alluded  to  in  terms  that  would  be 
unintelligible  on  the  supposition  of  their  attendance  being  for- 
bidden. Alciphron,  in  one  of  his  agreeable  epistles,  repre- 
sents Menander  as  writing  to  Glycera  about  an  invitation  he 
had  received  from  Ptolemy,  king  of  Egypt,  to  remove  to  his 
court.  The  letter  is,  indeed,  a  fictitious  one,  and  is  not  of 
the  same  authority  as  if  written  by  Menander  himself. 
But  in  the  second  century,  when  Athenian  literature  had  sus- 
tained no  losses  by  time,  it  is  scarcely  to  be  supposed  that  so 
ntelligent  and  elegant  a  writer  as  Alciphron  could  have  been 
mistaken  in  a  point  of  this  nature.  The  enamored  Menander 
is  made  to  say  that  he  declined  the  royal  proposal :  "  For  what 
happiness  could  I  have  without  thee  ?  Thy  qualities  and  ways 
would  make  extreme  old  age  appear  like  youth  to  me.  Let 
us  pass  our  youth  together,  our  ag^  together ;  yes,  by  the  gods. 


t>04  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

let  us  die  together.  God  forbid  that  I  should  know  what  it  is 
to  feel  that  thou  art  no  more.  For  what  blessing  would  then 
remain  ?  .  .  .  .  The  king  has  also  invited  Philemon  ;  he  will 
take  time  to  consider ;  but  thou,  O  Glycera,  art  my  judgment, 
my  Areopagus,  my  Heliastic  court,  and,  by  Athene,  my  every- 
thing. By  the  twelve  gods,  I  have  not  the  remotest  idea  of 
embarking  for  so  distant  a  kingdom  as  Egypt ;  nor,  were 
Egypt  in  iEgina,  over  yonder,  would  I  desert  my  kingdom, 
which  is  thy  love,  to  behold,  without  my  Glycera,  a  populous 
solitude  in  so  great  a  mob  of  Egyptians.  For  all  the  golden 
splendors  of  the  court,  I  would  not  exchange  the  pleasures  of 
the  stage,  of  the  Lyceum,  and  the  divine  Academy.  I  would 
rather  be  crowned  with  the  Dionysiac  wreath,  than  with  the 
diadem  of  Ptolemy,  if  Grlycera  were  sitting  in  the  theatre  and 
looking  on."  This  shows,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  author 
knew  how  to  write  a  love-letter,  and,  in  the  second  place,  that 
women  attended  dramatic  entertainments. 

The  two  Dionysiac  festivals,  at  which  the  tragic  and  comic 
representations  chiefly  took  place,  were  in  the  spring.  The 
chief  one,  called  the  Great  Dionysia,  was  from  the  10th  to 
the  18th  of  the  Attic  month  Elaphebolion,  a  time  nearly  cor- 
responding to  our  first  week  in  March,  —  a  very  beautiful 
season  there,  whatever  it  may  be  here.  It  was  a  period  when 
the  city  was  crowded  with  deputies  from  tributary  and  allied 
states,  who  had  visited  the  capital  to  settle  the  accounts  of 
their  respective  cities  with  the  Athenian  treasury  ;  with  suit- 
ors in  law-cases,  who  were  awaiting  the  action  of  the  Heli- 
astic courts ;  with  travellers  from  every  part  of  the  civilized 
world,  who  had  come  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  the  great  Hel- 
lenic holiday ;  with  merchants  and  traders,  who  brought  their 
wares,  on  this  occasion,  as  to  a  great  mart  or  fair  ;  with  artists, 
poets,  sophists,  and  philosophers,  drawn  thither  in  the  hope 
of  fame  or  profit.  Nothing  was  wanting  to  make  the  Great 
Dionysia  one  of  the  most  splendid  and  imposing  pictures  in 
the  life  of  Greece  ;  and  if  we  consider  that  it  was  the  occasion 
for  the  development  of  the  last  great  original  form  of  Greek 


THE  THEATRE.  505 

literature,  —  the  dramatic,  —  the  peculiar  boast  of  Athens,  and 
the  crowning  flower  of  her  genius,  we  shall  see  that  there 
was  reason  in  the  enthusiasm  and  excitement  which  univer- 
sally prevailed.  The  city  put  on  its  holiday  attire.  From 
daylight  until  sunset,  the  excited  multitudes  enjoyed  a  suc- 
cession of  pastimes,  from  the  tricks  of  the  juggler  up  to  the 
loftiest  representations  of  the  Tragic  Muse.  The  Athenians 
were  early  risers.  Aristotle  says,  that  the  man  who  would 
accomplish  great  things  must  be  up  while  it  is  yet  dark.  The 
lovely  Grecian  morning  was  more  tempting  than  our  freezing 
and  sleety  spring  days,  and  there  was  something  to  encourage 
the  citizen  to  leave  his  bed.  Courts  sat  by  the  dawn,  and  the 
jurymen  were  sometimes  conducted  to  the  Heliaea  by  link- 
boys,  as  the  city  was  not  lighted  at  the  public  expense.  The 
Senate  and  the  popular  Assembly  usually  met  before  sunrise. 
The  Athenians  were  a  people  who  loved  the  light  of  heaven. 
They  thought  that  it  was  intended  for  the  wakeful  use  of  the 
faculties.  With  the  exception  of  the  mystic  rites,  some  of  the 
Dionysiac  orgies,  and  occasional  entertainments,  such  as  that  of 
Agathon,  —  which  did  not  interfere  with  the  early  morning 
hour,  since  the  revellers  were  already  up,  —  the  Athenians 
were  a  people  who  observed  the  old  adage,  "  Early  to  bed,  early 
to  rise,"  and  enjoyed  to  the  full  the  predicted  consequence  of 
health  and  wisdom.  They  had  no  balls,  no  theatre,  no  con- 
certs, in  the  evening,  and  so  they  went  to  bed ;  and  when 
the  rosy-fingered  Aurora  shot  her  earliest  arrows  up  the  east- 
ern hills,  they  were  on  foot,  and  ready  for  the  frugal  meal  —  a 
bit  of  bread,  a  fig,  or  a  bunch  of  grapes  —  which  preceded  the 
morning  occupations.  In  the  days  of  the  Dionysia,  the  theatre 
was  thrown  open  with  the  earliest  dawn,  and  the  citizens  and 
strangers  were  astir  betimes,  to  secure  their  seats.  The 
wealthier  persons  were  followed  by  their  attendants  with 
cushions  and  sunshades,  and  perhaps  a  luncheon ;  for  the  ses- 
sion was  likely  to  be  long.  Theophrastus,  in  his  character 
of  the  Adulator,  says .  "  At  the  theatre,  taking  the  cushions 
from  the  servant,  whose  business  it  is  to  adjust  them  for  his  mas- 


506  THE  LIFE  OF  GREECE. 

ter,  lie  performs  this  office  himself."  You  might  have  seen  the 
magistrates,  in  their  robes  of  office,  proceeding,  with  strangers 
honored  by  the  city,  to  their  official  place  ;  ladies,  veiled,  wind- 
ing their  way  along  the  passages,  to  apartments  curtained  off, 
perhaps,  from  the  rude  stare  of  the  multitude ;  the  untitled 
crowd,  with  their  two-obol  tickets,  pressing  through  the  street 
of  the  Tripods,  after  the  solemn  procession  of  dignitaries  has 
passed  by,  to  gain  admittance  into  the  common  seats,  scram 
bling  over  one  another  to  secure  the  best. 

By  the  time  it  is  light  enough  to  see,  the  religious  ser- 
vice begins.  The  board  of  dramatic  judges  are  on  the  critical 
bench,  looking  wise  as  so  many  reviewers.  Perhaps  a  golden 
crown  has  been  voted  to  some  illustrious  statesman  for  emi- 
nent services  to  the  country.  The  herald  comes  forward,  in 
the  presence  of  all  that  is  most  distinguished  in  the  world,  and 
makes  proclamation  of  the  fact ;  that  the  world  may  know  his 
merits,  —  that  the  citizens  may  be  stirred  to  emulate  his  ex- 
ample by  so  noble  a  reward,  —  that  his  children  may  follow 
in  the  patriotic  footsteps,  and  exult  in  the  honored  name,  of 
him  to  whom  they  owe  their  being.  Fit  prelude  this  to  the 
heroic  doings  and  sufferings  which  are  to  follow  in  mimic  life 
upon  the  stage.  The  dramatic  contest  commences,  under  the 
auspices  of  the  god  to  whom  the  theatre  is  a  temple.  In  suc- 
cession the  choruses  of  the  rival  tribes  appear.  Actors,  scen- 
ery, costumes,  have  been  elaborately  prepared ;  music,  move- 
ment, delivery,  have  been  taught  by  the  poet,  down  to  the 
minutest  point.  The  figures  on  the  stage,  too  distant  from  the 
spectators  for  the  flexible  play  of  feature,  present,  in  the  sculp- 
tured countenance  of  the  mask,  only  the  great  outlines  of  the 
character  or  passion  which  the  poet  has  set  down  for  them. 
They  stand  in  groups,  like  compositions  of  plastic  art;  their 
solemn  and  stately  recitation  is  heightened  in  its  power  by  the 
increased  volume  imparted  to  the  voice  through  the  mask;  and 
the  sound  rolls  over  the  vast  multitude,  and  reverberates  from 
the  colonnade  behind  and  above  them.  The  prologue  over, 
the  chorus  enters,  moving  in  anapaestic  rhythm  to  the  central 


THE   THEATRE.  507 

altar,  around  which  most  of  their  part  of  the  action  revolves ; 
singing  a  lyrical  ode,  artfully  constructed,  embodying  the  relig- 
ious or  moral  ideas  growing  out  of  the  drama;  or  recalling 
distant  events,  which  have  something  to  do  with  the  destinies 
of  the  characters ;  or  moralizing  in  Doric  strophes  upon  the 
action,  as  it  is  developing  itself  on  the  stage.  The  spectators 
express  their  enthusiasm  by  rousing  applause ;  or,  if  an  actor 
stumbles,  they  hiss  him  off  the  stage,  or  pelt  him  with  figs  and 
apples,  rotten  eggs  not  having  yet  been  thought  of. 

In  the  interval  between  the  first  and  second  representations, 
acquaintances  exchange  greetings,  and,  after  mutual  inquiries 
about  the  health  of  their  families,  begin  to  discuss  the  merits 
of  the  pieces.  The  dramatic  judges  take  notes  and  compare 
opinions  on  the  same  subject,  under  the  weight  of  official  re- 
sponsibility. Less  intellectually  disposed  persons  seize  the  op- 
portunity to  refresh  the  inner  man  with  some  dainty  bit  and 
a  flask  of  wine ;  nuts,  raisins,  sweetmeats,  cakes,  are  passed 
round ;  and  such  a  clattering  of  teeth  and  hum  of  voices  fill 
the  theatre  as  only  twenty  thousand  hungry  and  sociable  cit- 
izens can  produce.  As  soon  as  the  scenes  are  shifted,  the  next 
choregus  on  the  list  marshals  in  his  dramatic  troop,  and  an- 
other play,  or  the  second  part  of  a  trilogy,  is  performed.  How 
many  come  on  in  succession,  we  do  not  know,  but  the  greater 
part  of  the  forenoon  was  doubtless  given  to  the  tragic  poets ; 
and  as  the  pieces  were  not  long,  a  considerable  number  might 
be  heard,  when  we  consider  the  early  hour  at  which  they  set 
to  work. 

The  representation  of  comedies  was  held  sometimes  at  the 
Lenaean  Festival,  a  short  time  earlier  than  the  Great  Dionysia, 
and  sometimes  at  the  Dionysia,  probably  in  the  afternoon  of 
the  same  days  on  which  the  tragedies  were  brought  out.  They 
were  under  the  same  general  regulations,  except  that  the 
i>oard  of  judges  consisted  of  ten,  instead  of  four.  A  pecu- 
liar feature  of  the  ancient  comedy  consisted  in  the  parabasis. 
or  address  to  the  audience,  in  which  the  author,  speaking  bj 
the  mouth  of  the  chorus,  gave  his  opinions  in  a  very  free  styl* 


D08  THE   LIFE  OF   GREECE. 

upon  public  events,  or  criticised  the  pieces  of  his  rivals,  or 
commended  his  own,  generally  uttering  some  ludicrous  threat 
against  the  judges  if  they  should  fail  to  award  him  the  prize. 
It  is  obvious  that  the  business  of  the  magistrate  who  had  to 
read  the  pieces  and  to  assign  the  chorus,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
dramatic  judges  who  had  to  hear  them  and  to  decide  their 
merits,  was  no  sinecure.  Imagine  the  mayor  of  this  city  re- 
quired to  examine  plays  offered  for  representation  by  rival 
poets  from  all  the  wards,  and  four  aldermen  obliged  to  rise  at 
the  peep  of  day,  and,  after  eating  a  morsel  of  bread  soaked  in 
wine,  going  to  an  immense  uncovered  theatre,  taking  their 
places  on  marble  seats,  and  sitting  through  ten  or  a  dozen 
tragedies  a  day,  for  five  or  six  days  in  succession ! 

The  nature  of  the  sources  from  which  the  Attic  tragedy  was 
drawn,  and  the  high-toned  doctrines  of  ethics  and  religion  it 
inculcated,  have  caused  the  stage  to  be  compared  to  the  pulpit 
in  modern  times.  This  holds  surprisingly  true  of  ^Eschylus 
and  Sophocles.  The  destinies  of  the  ancient  princely  houses, 
whose  awful  crimes  of  murder,  parricide,  and  incest  overloaded 
the  traditions  of  Greece,  were  well  suited  to  stamp  on  the  sus- 
ceptible Hellenic  spirit  the  profoundest  lessons  of  the  nature 
of  sin  and  justice,  and  the  terrible  consequences  of  the  wrath 
of  God.     Says  the  Chorus  in  the  Agamemnon :  — 

"  For  Zeus  doth  teach  men  wisdom,  sternly  wins 
To  virtue  by  the  tutoring  of  their  sins ; 
Yea !  drops  of  torturing  recollection  chill 
The  sleeper's  heart ;  'gainst  man's  rebellious  will 

Zeus  works  the  wise  remorse ; 
Dread  powers,  on  awful  seats  enthroned,  compel 

Our  hearts  with  gracious  force." 

This  solemn  tone  runs  through  the  three  plays  in  which 
the  crimes,  woes,  and  atonements  of  the  doomed  family  of 
Agamemnon  are  unfolded  with  a  grandeur  of  language  and 
thought,  and  a  force  of  characterization,  worthy  of  the  genius 
of  Shakespeare  ;  while  the  overwhelming  impression  of  the  rep- 
resentation may,  without  irreverence,  be  compared  with  that 


THE  THEATRE.  509 

of  the  Hebrew  prophets.  This  topic  might  be  equally  illus- 
trated from  the  extant  pieces  of  Sophocles,  in  which  similar  doc- 
trines are  preached,  but  in  a  style  of  more  subdued  elegance. 

In  a  state  of  such  lively  political  susceptibilities  as  Athens, 
an  instrument  of  influence  like  the  stage  could  not  have  been 
neglected  by  struggling  parties.  Notwithstanding  the  lofty 
and  ideal  tone  of  the  tragedy,  so  suitable  to  the  subjects  bor- 
rowed from  a  distant  heroic  age,  the  poet  sometimes  gave  his 
pieces  a  bearing,  direct  or  indirect,  upon  the  politics  of  his  own 
times.  .ZEschylus  attempted  to  protect  the  court  of  the  Are- 
opagus against  the  encroaching  radicalism  of  his  age.  Sopho- 
cles has  frequent  political  allusions.  In  the  Antigone,  freedom 
and  despotism  are  so  powerfully  contrasted  with  each  other, 
and  so  much  to  the  advantage  of  the  former,  that  the  author 
was  not  only  overwhelmed  with  the  applause  of  the  people, 
but  was  appointed  general  in  the  Samian  war,  as  the  colleague 
of  Pericles  and  Thucydides. 

It  was,  however,  only  in  the  form  of  general  principles,  or  by 
allusions,  easily  understood  indeed,  yet  not  conveyed  in  express 
terms,  that  tragedy  dealt  with  contemporary  politics.  For 
a  vivid,  though  doubtless  exaggerated,  picture  of  the  morals, 
manners,  passions,  and  demagogy  of  the  passing  day,  we  must 
turn  to  the  pages  of  Aristophanes.  This  most  brilliant,  but 
somewhat  unscrupulous  and  wholly  fearless  genius,  belonged 
to  the  same  great  age  with  the  tragedians.  He  was  a  hearty 
'over  of  ^Eschylus  and  Sophocles,  but  made  Euripides  the  con- 
t  tant  butt  of  his  ridicule.  Socrates,  as  the  friend  of  Euripides, 
was  most  unjustly  held  up  by  him  as  the  master  of  a  sophisti- 
cal school  where  atheism  was  taught,  and  the  art  of  making  the 
worse  appear  the  better  reason  was  a  daily  practice.  So  far 
as  his  satire  was  levelled  at  the  Sophists,  whose  skill  turned  on 
verbal  quibbles,  by  which  they  not  only  proved  that  "  naught 
is  everything,  and  everything  is  naught,"  but  that  the  right  of 
the  strongest  is  right  by  the  law  of  nature,  and  that  this  is  the 
>nly  measure  of  justice  ;  that  pleasure  and  virtue  are  synony- 
mous and  convertible  terms;  that  physical  enjoyment  is  the 


510  THE  LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

rule  of  morality,  —  so  far  as  he  aimed  to  hold  this  mountebank 
philosophy  up  to  reprobation,  he  was  to  be  praised.  Again,  he 
was  to  be  praised  for  pointing  the  finger  of  scorn  at  the  dema- 
gogues and  generals  who  were  urging  the  country  into  the 
abyss  of  ruin  in  the  Peloponnesian  war ;  as  in  the  "  Peace,' 
where  Trygaeus  ascends  to  heaven,  and  finds  that  two  giants, 
named  War  and  Tumult,  have  usurped  the  place  of  the  gods, 
and  are  employed  in  pounding  the  states  of  Greece  in  a  huge 
mortar,  using  the  generals  as  pestles,  while  Peace  has  been 
sunk  to  the  bottom  of  a  well,  whence  she  is  drawn  with  the 
greatest  difficulty.  The  same  subject  is  wittily  handled  in 
"  The  Acharnians,"  where  the  blessings  of  peace  are  amusingly 
contrasted  with  the  horrors  of  war.  Again,  in  the  "  Lysistrata," 
the  Women,  wearied  out  with  the  calamitous  state  of  things, 
conspire  in  a  general  congress  of  delegates  from  the  contending 
ing  states  to  bring  the  foolish  men  to  terms,  by  stopping  do- 
mestic supplies  of  every  kind.  One  of  the  great  complaints  on 
which  the  uprising  is  justified  is  the  melancholy  fact  that  the 
citizens  are  so  long  absent  in  the  wars,  that  the  young  maids 
are  left  to  grow  into  old  maids,  and,  when  the  soldiers  return, 
they  marry  down  into  the  next  generation.  The  base  com- 
pliances of  party  leaders  with  the  passions  and  appetites  of  the 
demos  are  admirably  exposed  in  the  play  of  "  The  Knights," 
where  Agoracritus,  the  sausage-seller,  is  set  up  against  Cleon, 
the  leather-dresser,  the  popular  idol  of  the  hour.  The  ma- 
nia for  extending  empire,  which  wrote  the  bloodiest  pages  in 
Athenian  annals,  and  finally  led  to  the  ruin  of  the  state,  is 
touched  with  infinite  liveliness  in  "  The  Birds,"  who,  under  the 
guidance  of  a  speculative  Athenian,  found  an  empire  in  mid- 
air, to  cut  off  sacrificial  supplies  from  the  gods  and  the  blessed 
rain  of  heaven  from  men,  and  so  to  reduce  the  universe  under 
their  sway.  The  frenzy  of  litigation,  which  had  seized  hold 
of  the  demos  by  the  vast  accumulation  of  suits,  the  pecuni- 
ary interest  which  the  citizens  felt  in  them,  and  the  sense  of 
personal  importance  and  delight  of  gratified  vanity  when  the 
yomrion  Athenian  dicast,  no  matter  how  ignorant  and  vulgar, 


THE  THEATRE.  511 

found  himself  the  subject  of  solicitation  to  suppliant  suitors 
from  every  quarter  of  the  Athenian  empire,  —  are  wonder- 
fully set  forth  in  "  The  Wasps,"  where  a  crazy  old  dicast, 
being  restrained  of  his  liberty  by  his  son,  strives  to  escape 
through  the  chimney  to  join  his  fellow-jurymen  on  their  way 
to  court.  Being  hindered  by  a  cap  placed  over  the  top  of 
the  chimney,  he  pretends  that  he  desires  to  send  a  donkey 
to  market,  is  detected  hanging  under  the  legs  of  the  ass,  like 
Ulysses  escaping  from  the  Cyclops'  cavern  under  the  ram, 
and  finally  is  appeased  only  by  having  a  court  established  in 
his  own  house  for  the  trial  of  the  dog  Labes,  who  has  been 
caught  stealing  a  Sicilian  cheese.  When  foolish  schemes  of 
the  best  possible  republic  were  agitated  by  the  philosophers, 
and  the  class  of  women  described  by  Aristotle  and  compared 
to  translated  hens  increased  the  uproar  of  discordant  opinions 
by  agitating  the  question  of  the  rights  of  women,  Aristophanes 
turned  the  offensive  folly  into  ridicule  that  killed  it  dead,  in 
the  play  of  the  "  Ecclesiazousae."  In  this  way  the  comic  stage 
dealt  with  the  politics  and  the  follies  of  the  hour.  Tragedy  and 
comedy  are  two  sides  of  the  same  scene  ;  both  are  to  be 
carefully  studied  if  we  would  pass  behind  the  curtain,  and  enter 
into  the  interior  of  the  habitation  of  Demos. 


END   OF  VOL.   L 


THIRD    COURSE. 

CONSTITUTIONS    AND    ORATORS 
OF   GREECE. 


tol.  n. 


LECTURE  I. 

GENERAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  —  GREEK  POLITY. 

The  subject  of  the  present  course  of  lectures  is  the  Consti- 
tutions and  the  Orators  of  Greece ;  but  I  will  take  the  liberty 
of  prefacing  the  discussion  of  it  with  a  few  general  remarks. 

European  culture  traces  its  origin  mainly  to  the  inhabitants 
of  that  comparatively  diminutive  country.  In  the  remote  East 
sprang  up  in  early  times  forms  of  political  existence,  which, 
lasting,  some  a  few  centuries,  and  others  many  centuries,  on 
completing  their  career,  left  but  little  for  the  instruction  of  the 
following  ages.  On  the  Indus  and  the  Ganges,  far  back  in  the 
primeval  times,  civilized  communities  existed,  in  which  the  in- 
stitution of  caste  established  itself  as  a  permanent  organization, 
more  despotic  than  despotism  itself.  Philosophy  flourished 
there,  as  did  poetry  in  all  its  forms ;  human  life  suggested  to 
speculative  minds  ethical  conclusions  of  large  significance ;  and 
Divine  themes  occupied  men's  thoughts,  leading  them  into 
mazes  which  still  perplex  the  world.  Egypt  unfolded  many 
sciences,  and  carried  some  of  the  arts  to  a  high  stage  of  pro- 
gress. Her  temples,  pyramids,  and  gigantic  statues  amaze  the 
traveller  by  the  grandeur  of  their  conception  and  the  perfect- 
ness  of  their  details.  She  performed  a  still  greater  service  by 
the  invention  of  hieroglyphics,  which,  including  the  germ  of 
alphabetic  writing,  have  furnished  the  means  of  placing  on  per- 
petual record  the  wisdom  of  the  wise  and  the  fair  creations  of 
the  inventive  mind.  In  Palestine,  among  the  chosen  people, 
God  saw  fit  to  manifest  himself  in  a  peculiar  manner,  through 
the  inspired  teachings  of  his  servants,  the  prophets  and  leaders 
of  Israel.     But  it  was  in  Greece  that  literary  taste,  ideal  art, 


4  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

political  constitutions,  and  the  eloquence  of  the  senate,  the 
popular  assembly,  and  the  court  of  justice,  first  took  a  sys- 
tematic form,  and  determined  principles  to  be  thenceforth  rec- 
ognized wherever  civilization  should  plant  itself. 

By  Hellenic  culture  the  world  was  prepared  for  the  Chris- 
tian dispensation ;  first,  by  the  humanizing  spirit  of  the  Greek 
philosophy,  especially  by  the  almost  inspired  teachings  of  Soc- 
rates, and  of  the  two  great  men  who  afterwards  divided  the 
realm  of  speculative  and  practical  wisdom  between  them ; 
secondly,  by  furnishing  a  language  through  which  the  divine 
teachings  of  the  Saviour  and  his  Apostles  might  best  reach  the 
mind  and  heart  of  the  world ;  and  thirdly,  by  organizing  the 
family  relation  on  the  basis  of  a  true  marriage  of  one  man  to 
one  woman,  and  thus  making  it,  not  only  the  sanctuary  of  the 
best  affections,  but  the  source  of  the  highest  intellectual  de- 
velopment. On  this  last  great  fact  I  place  the  chief  stress  in 
estimating  the  providential  purposes  which  the  Hellenic  race 
were  destined  to  accomplish.  The  Greeks  were  the  earliest 
race  to  lift  human  society  out  of  the  infinite  degradation  and 
woe  of  polygamy,  into  which  the  primitive  nations  had  fallen, 
into  which  the  latest  of  the  great  impostures  would  sink  man- 
kind again.  The  cultivated  and  subtile  Brahmin,  with  all 
his  depth  of  speculative  insight,  and  his  immaculate  purity 
of  caste,  neither  saw  the  evil  nor  devised  the  remedy.  The 
Egyptian,  with  all  his  art  and  ingenuity,  surrounding  himself 
with  master  works  of  architecture  built  for  eternity,  and  shield- 
ing his  mortal  body  from  decay  in  the  anticipation  of  another 
life,  was  blind  to  the  simple  law  ordained  by  the  Almighty, 
and  recorded  by  his  hand  in  the  perpetual  wonder  of  the  nu- 
merical equality  of  births  of  man  and  woman,  —  the  law  which 
is  the  one  condition  of  order  in  the  state  and  of  happiness  in  the 
household.  The  Hebrew  even,  though  holding  loftier  ideas 
of  the  Divine  nature  than  any  of  his  neighbors  and  contempo- 
raries,— though  led  f-om  Egyptian  bondage  through  the  great 
and  terrible  wilderness  into  the  promised  land  by  supernatural 
guidance,  and  warned,  taught,  rebuked,  encouraged  by  seer 


GENERAL   VIEW    OF   GREECE.  5 

and  prophet,  —  failed  to  rise  above  the  dreadful  barbarism  into 
which  the  domestic  life  of  the  Oriental  races  was  plunged.  In 
his  home,  the  Hebrew  was  the  master  of  a  harem,  and  not  the 
husband  of  a  wife,  though  the  first  book  of  his  sacred  records, 
written  by  the  great  lawgiver  of  his  ancestors,  held  up  to  his 
view  an  enchanting  picture  of  the  primeval  condition  of  man. 
There  is  a  wonderful  coincidence  between  the  best  lessons 
drawn  from  Greek  history  and  philosophy,  and  the  teachings 
of  Him  who  spoke  with  Divine  authority  in  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount.  It  was  not  without  a  deeper  cause  than  the  casual 
incidents  of  travel,  that  St.  Paul  was  courteously  taken  up  the 
Hill  of  Mars,  and,  in  sight  of  the  prison  where  Socrates  with 
his  dying  breath  consoled  his  sorrowing  disciples  by  his  great 
argument  for  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  unfolded  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Christian  faith  to  the  listening  sages  of  the  city 
of  Athene. 

The  play  of  contrasts  between  the  Hellenic  and  the  Oriental 
world  is  wonderful.  Whence  came  these  Greeks,  and  whence 
came  the  wisdom  and  the  genius  which,  in  so  remarkable  a 
manner,  were  embodied  in  their  institutions  and  their  history  ? 
Were  they  also,  like  the  Brahmins,  Egyptians,  and  Hebrews, 
children  of  the  primeval  and  mysterious  East,  and  did  they 
come  into  their  chosen  land  by  a  series  of  migrations,  dating 
beyond  the  dawn  of  authentic  history,  and  disguised  under  the 
veil  of  myth  and  fable  ?  or  were  they,  as  they  claimed  to  be, 
autochthones,  —  children  of  the  soil  on  which  they  ran  their 
brilliant  historical  career  ?  The  earliest  legends  of  incomers  from 
the  East  represent  them  as  finding  the  country  occupied.  They 
bring  with  them  the  arts  and  wealth  of  older  communities,  and 
establish  by  their  aid  a  predominating  influence  among  simple 
and  primitive  tribes.  Danaus  flees  from  Egypt  to  Argos,  and 
perpetuates  his  name  in  one  of  the  appellations  of  the  Hellenic 
people ;  Pelops  brings  his  royal  treasures  from  Phrygia,  and 
gives  his  name  for  all  future  time  to  the  great  southern  penin- 
sula of  Greece ;  Cecrops  carries  civilization  from  Egypt  to 
Athens,  and  leaves  a  memorial  of  himself  in  the  Cecropia,  the 


6  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

ancient  and  poetical  designation  of  the  Acropolis  ;  Cadmus  sails 
from  Phoenicia  with  a  more  precious  freight  than  adventurer 
ever  bore  to  a  distant  land,  and  leaves  the  alphabet  among  the 
Greeks,  and  his  name  to  the  citadel  of  Thebes.  But  we  find 
before  them  all  the  Pelasgians,  with  their  simple  religion,  their 
rude  handcraft,  their  oracles,  their  primitive  habits,  their  hardy 
virtues,  and  their  artless  speech,  destined  to  give  birth  to  the 
mighty  pair  of  languages  which  have  brought  safely  down  to 
us  the  most  precious  stores  of  thought  from  the  wreck  of  the 
ancient  world.  Certain  it  is  that  there  was  an  early  connec- 
tion of  some  extent  between  the  inhabitants  of  Greece  and  the 
Aryan  tribes  of  the  East,  from  which  they  were  so  widely  sun- 
dered in  the  historical  ages.  The  affinities  of  language  place 
this  fact  beyond  a  reasonable  doubt ;  but  they  do  not  deci- 
sively settle  the  question,  whether  the  first  Pelasgic  inhabitants 
of  Greece  came  in  one  or  in  several  migrations,  or  came  at  all 
from  the  Aryan  land ;  and  he  who  presses  the  argument  from 
philology  to  an  extreme  conclusion  is  misled  by  his  zeal  for  a 
theory,  rather  than  guided  by  the  pure  love  of  truth. 

At  all  events,  when  the  Greeks  first  come  within  our  his- 
toric survey,  they  have  the  Hellenic  characteristics,  with  here 
and  there  an  old  Pelasgic  background  in  the  picture.  Intel- 
lectually, morally,  politically,  they  are  heaven-wide  from  the 
Orientals,  whose  kindred  they  are  supposed  to  be.  Physically, 
too,  the  Hellenic  type  of  humanity  is  very  different  from  the 
Oriental. 

The  earliest  distinct  forms  of  Hellenic  political  society  are 
those  of  the  heroic  age,  as  they  are  represented  especially  in 
the  poems  of  Homer.  Here  we  find  domestic  servitude,  in- 
deed, but  scarcely  a  trace  of  Oriental  despotism,  no  tokens  of 
Brahminical  caste,  no  polygamy.  On  the  contrary,  though 
the  people  are  under  the  rule  of  kings,  and  the  kingly  power 
is  hereditary,  the  monarch  himself  holds  his  sceptre  from  Zeus, 
and  administers  laws  that  come  from  Zeus.  He  is  surrounded 
by  wise  counsellors,  who  gJve  their  opinions  on  all  matters 
brought  before  them,  with  an  outspoken  freedom  not  always 


GENERAL   VIEW   OF   GREECE.  7 

aafe  in  a  republic.  He  calls  his  people  together;  they  listen 
to  the  debate,  and  express  their  approbation  or  disapprobation, 
sometimes  in  a  tumultuous  manner  which  is  anything  but 
agreeable  to  the  prince.  The  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  are  full 
of  pictures  of  the  political  freedom  of  the  heroic  age,  which 
contrast  strangely  with  the  despotism  and  corresponding  ser- 
vility among  the  Orientals. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  peculiar  physical  type  which  distin 
guishes  the  Greek  from  the  Oriental.  Compare  the  faces  in 
the  frieze  of  the  Parthenon  with  the  statues  or  figures  in  relief 
on  the  Egyptian  temples  or  the  marbles  of  Nineveh,  or  with 
the  physiognomy  of  the  ancient  Hebrews  among  the  captives  of 
the  Egyptian  kings.  What  made  the  difference  ?  Were  they 
originally  of  different  types  ?  or  did  external  causes  develop 
the  balanced  head,  the  large  facial  angle,  the  straight  nose, 
the  short  upper  lip,  the  bowlike  curve  of  the  mouth,  in  the 
one,  and  the  prominent  features,  especially  the  hooked  nose 
and  high  cheek-bones,  of  the  other  ?  How  is  it  that  these 
races,  wherever  they  exist,  retain  their  characteristic  marks, 
as  strongly  distinguished  from  each  other  as  they  are  in  the 
surviving  monuments  of  Nineveh  or  Thebes,  and  of  that  won- 
der of  the  ages,  the  Parthenon  at  Athens  ?  The  Greek  boy, 
dressing  vines  on  the  slopes  of  Delphi,  might  still  serve  as  a 
model  for  the  god  whose  temple  lies  hard  by  in  ruins,  below 
the  rifted  heights  of  the  double-peaked  Parnassian  rock.  The 
Greek  girl,  who  comes  down  to  Athens  to  prepare  herself  to 
teach  the  maidens  of  her  native  village  among  the  mountains, 
and  who  reads  Homer  with  a  beauty  of  intonation  and  a  music 
of  rhythm  which  would  drive  a  Porson,  Bentley,  or  Wolf  to 
despair,  would  furnish  to  a  modern  Pheidias  the  study  for  a 
modern  Athene. 

The  Hellenic  intellect,  from  the  beginning,  was  keen,  search- 
ing, brilliant.  The  Greek  rejoiced  in  the  loveliness  of  nature, 
without  brooding  over  it  as  the  modern  sentimentalist  does. 
To  him  nature  was  the  framework  of  the  picture  of  human 
life ;   and  human   life,  in  its  shifting  manifestations,   with  its 


8  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

tragic  fates,  or  its  laughter-provoking  incongruities  and  absurdi- 
ties, was  of  deeper  interest  than  even  the  charm  of  the  beau- 
tiful nature  which  encompassed  him.  He  was  social,  fond  of 
talk,  full  of  gay  fancies,  but  logical  as  well  as  eloquent,  —  de- 
lighting alike  in  argument,  in  song,  in  the  dance,  and  in  the 
feast ;  yet  happily  constituted  by  the  law  of  his  being  with  a 
just  perception  of  the  true,  the  temperate,  the  beautiful,  and 
therefore  rarely  transcending  the  line  beyond  which  lies  crude 
excess. 

The  physical  character  of  Greece  itself  is  most  propitious  to 
the  happiest  development  of  the  human  faculties  of  body  and 
mind.  The  coast  line  is  more  indented  than  that  of  any  other 
European  country.  The  mountains  are  lofty,  in  proportion  to 
the  extent  of  the  surface ;  and  their  ranges,  cutting  one  another, 
divide  the  land  into  a  succession  of  plains  of  various  dimensions ; 
while  the  gleaming  appearance  of  the  limestone  and  marble, 
contrasted  with  the  belts  of  foliage  that  encircle  the  slopes,  at 
least  of  the  northern  chains,  give  a  singularly  bright,  silvery 
picturesqueness  to  their  aspect.  Olympus,  seat  of  the  gods,  is 
nearly  ten  thousand  feet  high  ;  Parnassus,  haunt  of  the  Muses, 
is  more  than  eight  thousand ;  and  Cyllene,  in  Arcadia,  rises  al- 
most to  the  same  elevation.  On  Olympus,  snow  lies  in  spots 
all  summer,  justifying  the  Homeric  epithet,  snowy.  It  is  used 
by  the  inhabitants  of  Thessalonica,  as  we  use  ice,  to  cool  wine 
and  water.  In  the  rifts  of  Parnassus  it  is  often  found  nearly 
to  the  middle  of  summer.  Thus,  notwithstanding  its  low  lati- 
tude,—  its  extreme  southern  point  being  thirty-six  degrees, — 
the  climate  of  Greece  is  various,  though  generally  temperate. 
In  the  lowlands  the  heat  of  summer  is  moderated  by  delicious 
breezes  from  the  Mediterranean ;  while  the  mountain  air  in 
Arcadia,  and  along  the  ridges  of  Parnes,  Helicon,  Parnassus, 
Othrys,  Pelion,  Ossa,  and  Olympus,  gives  all  the  upper  regions 
a  refreshing  coolness  when  the  season  is  the  hottest.  It  is  im- 
possible to  exaggerate  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  these  moun- 
tain scenes,  or  to  over-estimate  the  effect  they  must  have  had 
in  exhilarating  and  exalting  the  minds  of  an  intellectual  race. 


GENERAL   VIEW   OF   GREECE.  9 

As  you  approach  Greece  from  either  side,  you  behold  these 
6ummits  touching  the  very  sky,  which  arches  over  them  with 
indescribable  loveliness.  As  you  coast  along  the  Pelopon- 
nesus, the  lofty  heights  of  Cyllene  and  Taygetus  bound  the 
distant  horizon ;  you  enter  the  Corinthian  Gulf  from  the  Ionian 
Sea,  and  gaze  with  admiration  upon  Parnassus  and  Helicon ; 
you  pass  down  the  Saronic  Gulf,  and  Parnes,  Pentelicus,  and 
Hymettus  shut  in  the  plain  of  Athens,  in  the  midst  of  which 
rises  the  immortal  rock  of  the  Acropolis,  surmounted  by  the 
majestic  remains  of  the  Parthenon.  Farther  on,  your  eye  rests 
upon  the  wooded  heights  of  JEgina,  with  the  picturesque  soli- 
tude of  the  Panhellenian  Zeus's  mouldering  columns.  The 
headland  of  Sunium  and  the  gleaming  ruins  of  the  temple  of 
the  Sunian  Athene  next  salute  you.  From  the  eastern  shore 
of  Magnesia,  the  lofty  and  most  picturesque  and  classic  sum- 
mits of  Pelion,  Ossa,  and  Olympus  fill  the  eye  with  their  united 
grandeur.  From  the  height  above  the  ancient  Thessalonica 
you  look  down  the  Thermaic  Gulf,  surrounded  by  a  panorama 
of  magnificent  mountain  chains,  such  in  natural  beauty  as  few 
spots  of  earth  have  to  show,  —  such  as  in  charm  of  association 
are  absolutely  unrivalled.  Farther  on  towers  over  the  sea,  in 
fair  weather  visible  from  the  opposite  shore  of  the  ^Egean,  the 
singular  shape  of  Mount  Athos,  against  which  were  wrecked 
the  Persian  fleets,  and  on  whose  rocky  slopes  are  now  the 
ancient  monastic  establishments,  constituting  an  ecclesiastical 
republic,  and  organized  on  the  principles  of  representative  gov- 
ernment. From  all  these  mountain  heights,  the  traveller  lookt 
abroad  upon  prospects  of  unexampled  splendor.  The  extent 
of  Greece  is  so  small,  the  coast  so  indented,  the  sea  eveiy  where 
sc  near,  that  from  every  hill-top  the  landscape  spread  out  be- 
fore the  eye  includes  all  the  elements  of  a  beautiful  picture,  — 
a  valley  with  a  stream  winding  through  it,  distant  hills,  and  at 
least  a  glimpse  of  the  blue  sea,  with  the  sunny  islands  that  gem 
its  surface.  From  Parnassus  and  Helicon,  from  Cithteron  and 
Parnes,  from  Pentelicus  and  Hymettus,  the  eye  ranges  ovei 
plains,  rivers,  gulfs,  bays,  and  straits,  whose  names  are  im- 
mortal in  history  and  in  song. 


10  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

How  can  I  describe  the  air  of  Greece  ?  How  can  I  depict 
the  splendid  atmospheric  effects  which  crown  the  spring  and 
summer  day?  How  can  I  paint  the  glories  of  the  rising  sun, 
as  seen  in  Athens,  when  he  comes  up  from  beyond  the  blazing 
ridge  of  Hymettus,  pouring  his  light  into  the  plain  and  over 
the  marble  ruins  of  the  Acropolis,  and  turning  their  em- 
browned surfaces  into  burnished  gold?  The  atmospnere  of 
Greece  is  wonderfully  transparent.  The  voice  is  heard  at 
amazing  distances  ;  and  we  at  length  understand  how  the  ora- 
tors on  the  Bema  and  the  actors  on  the  Dionysiac  stage,  in 
the  open  air,  could  be  distinctly  heard  by  the  multitudes  that 
thronged  the  popular  assembly  and  the  theatre.  As  the  sun 
goes  down,  the  succession  and  play  of  colors,  the  gold,  violet, 
and  purple,  that  come  over  the  landscape  and  linger  on  moun- 
tain slope  and  headland  and  the  still  surface  of  the  neighbor- 
ing deep,  are  wonderful  and  enchanting.  Seen  from  the  steps 
of  the  Parthenon,  it  is  a  spectacle  that  never  loses  its  varied 
attraction,  its  matchless  beauty  and  splendor  ;  no  painter  could 
copy  it;  the  colors  of  Claude  and  Titian  are  tame  and  dim 
in  the  comparison ;  even  the  magnificent  verse  of  Byron, 
grand  as  it  is,  falls  below  the  realities  which  th<>  poet 
would  fain  describe :  — 

"  Slow  sinks,  more  lovely  ere  his  race  be  run, 
Along  Morea's  hills  the  setting  sun  j 
Not,  as  in  Northern  climes,  obscurely  bright, 
But  on?  unclouded  blaze  of  living  light ! 
O'er  the  hushed  deep  the  yellow  beam  he  throws, 
Gilds  the  green  wave,  that  trembles  as  it  glows. 
On  old  jEgina's  rock,  and  Idra's  isle, 
The  god  of  gladness  sheds  his  parting  smile ; 
O'er  his  own  regions,  lingering,  loves  to  shine, 
Though  there  his  altars  are  no  more  divine ; 
Descending  fast,  the  mountain  shadows  kiss 
Thy  glorious  gulf,  unconquered  Salamis ! 
Their  azure  arches,  through  the  long  expanse. 
More  deeply  purpled,  meet  his  mellowing  glance ; 
And  tenderest  tints,  along  their  summits  driven, 
Mark  his  gay  course,  and  own  the  hues  of  heaven ; 
Till,  darkly  shaded  from  the  land  and  deep, 
Behind  his  Delphian  cliff  he  sinks  to  sleep." 


GENEEAL   VIEW   OF   GREECE.  11 

After  the  sun  goes  down,  the  beauty  of  the  night  is  equally 
wonderful,  but  different.  The  unfathomable  depth  of  the  sky, 
—  the  aa7reT09  a\6r\p  of  the  ancients,  —  out  of  which  the  stars 
come,  and  through  which  the  moon  in  her  queenly  majesty 
moves,  filling  the*  air  with  her  soft  lustre,  and  silvering  over 
the  silent  mountains,  the  stately  columns  of  the  Olympian 
Zeus  and  the  Acropolis,  and  the  sparkling  but  hushed  sea,  — 
seems  to  take  the  soul  out  of  all  earthly  conditions,  and  to 
wrap  it  in  the  legendary  associations  of  a  far-off,  mythical,  po- 
etical antiquity,  when  Artemis  came  down  from  just  such  a  sky 
to  watch  the  sleeping  Endymion. 

The  climate  of  Greece  was  and  is  remarkably  healthy.  Why 
should  people  sicken  and  die  before  their  time,  with  such  a  sky 
bending  lovingly  over  them,  with  such  pleasant  breezes  from 
the  mountains  and  the  sea,  with  such  a  sun  and  such  a  moon  ? 
We  know  from  the  biographies  of  the  ancients,  that  a  large 
proportion  of  them  lived  to  what  we  should  call  an  extraordi- 
nary age.  Isocrates  relates,  in  his  Panathenaicus,  that  he  be- 
gan that  work  when  he  was  ninety-four  years  old ;  that  when 
it  was  about  half  written,  he  was  seized  with  a  violent  illness, 
from  which  he  did  not  fairly  recover  until  three  years  later ; 
and  that  then,  induced  by  the  urgency  of  friends,  who  had  read 
the  completed  portion,  and  who  feared  something  might  hap- 
pen, he  resumed  and  finished  it  at  the  age  of  ninety-seven. 
When,  in  the  following  year,  the  news  of  the  disastrous  battle 
of  Chaeroneia  reached  Athens,  unable  to  bear  the  disappoint- 
ment of  the  hopes  he  had  placed  in  Philip  of  Macedon,  he 
put  an  end  to  his  life  by  starving  himself.  It  is  to  him  that 
Milton  alludes  in  the  lines, 

"  That  dishonest  victory 
At  Chaeroneia,  fatal  to  liberty, 
Killed  with  report  that  old  man  eloquent." 

In  the  letter  of  The  jphrastus,  the  friend  and  pupil  of  Aris- 
totle, which  he  prefixes  to  his  "  Characters,"  he  says  to  Poly- 
cles :  "  You  know,  my  friend,  that  I  have  long  been  an  atten- 
tive observer  of  human  nature.     I  am  now  in  the  ninety-nintb 


12  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

year  of  my  age  ;  and  during  the  whole  course  of  my  lite  1 
have  conversed  familiarly  with  men  of  all  classes  and  of  various 
climes,  nor  have  I  neglected  closely  to  watch  the  actions  of 
individuals,  —  as  well  the  bad  as  the  good.  With  these  quali- 
fications, I  have  thought  myself  fitted  for  the  task  of  describ- 
ing those  habitual  peculiarities  by  which  the  manners  of  every 
one  are  distinguished."  And  then  the  vigorous  centenarian 
proceeds  to  write  one  of  the  keenest  and  sprightliest  books  to 
be  found  in  any  language. 

Gorgias,  the  rhetorican  and  sophist,  lived  to  the  age  of  one 
hundred  and  seven,  and  died  with  the  characteristic  expression 
on  his  lips,  "  Sleep  is  now  beginning  to  lay  me  in  the  hands 
of  his  brother." 

In  our  day,  the  instances  of  longevity  are  not,  perhaps,  so 
common,  partly  because  the  habits  of  life  —  especially  in  the 
matter  of  bathing — are  not  so  healthful,  and  partly  because  the 
country  is  less  cultivated  than  it  was  in  ancient  times,  and  is  in 
some  places,  at  some  seasons  of  the  year,  malarious.  Yet  you 
often  meet  with  hale  and  active  men  nearly  as  old  as  Isocrates 
when  he  finished  the  Panathenaicus,  and  sometimes  we  en- 
counter a  rival  of  Gorgias.  A  year  ago  I  saw  General  Per- 
rhgebos,  who  must  be  at  least  ninety,  and  who  was  said  to  be  a 
nundred,  standing  among  the  crowd,  and  listening  to  an  ex- 
amination of  a  class  of  young  ladies  in  Homer  and  Demos- 
thenes, at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  In  1843,  when  the 
Constitutional  Assembly  met  in  Athens,  they  chose  for  their 
President  Mr.  Notaras,  the  deputy  from  Corinth,  then  one 
hundred  and  seven  years  old ;  and  at  the  banquet  given  at 
the  close  of  their  constitutional  labors,  the  President  was  the 
most  jovial  of  the  party.  Whether  this  hearty  old  Corinthian 
is  still  living,  I  cannot  say.  I  have  myself  conversed  with  a 
monk  in  the  monastery  of  Mount  Parnes,  whose  memory  of 
events  for  the  last  twenty  or  thirty  years  is  rather  vague, 
but  who  recalls  with  distinctness  the  transactions  of  a  period 
which  goes  back  almost  a  quarter  of  the  way  to  the  capture  of 
Constantinople  by  the   Turks,  in  1453.      I  think  that  these 


GENERAL   VIEW   OF   GREECE.  13 

facts  show  the  great  salubrity  of  the  climate  in  Greece,  —  one 
important  condition  certainly  for  a  free  and  prosperous  devel- 
opment of  social  and  political  life. 

The  ancient  Greeks  were  not  only  united  by  the  bonds  of  a 
common  nationality,  in  the  broad  sense  of  that  word,  but  they 
were  separated  into  minor  nationalities,  sometimes  called  races. 
As  against  the  Barbarians,  —  and  all  who  were  not  Greeks 
were  Barbarians,  —  they  held  tenaciously  to  their  distinguish- 
ing Hellenic  honors.  But  among  themselves,  not  only  were 
they  divided  into  Achaians,  JEolians,  Dorians,  and  Ionians,  — 
each  broadly  discriminated  from  all  the  rest,  —  but  each  city 
claimed  to  be  independent  of  every  other,  and  clung  passion- 
ately to  its  independent  administration,  under  the  name  of 
autonomy.  They  had  their  amphictyonies,  or  unions,  for  special 
religious  or  festal  purposes ;  they  had  their  great  national 
games,  from  which  all  who  could  not  prove  their  pure  Hellenic 
descent  were  rigidly  excluded,  and  to  which  all  of  Hellenic 
descent,  whether  from  Asia,  Africa,  Sicily,  or  Italy,  were  ad- 
mitted ;  but  they  never  had  a  central  government,  with  a 
controlling  political  power  over  the  members  of  an  extended 
confederacy.  They  had  temporary  combinations,  either  of 
equals  with  equals,  or  of  inferior  states,  under  the  headship 
of  some  prominent  city.  In  the  heroic  times,  the  poetical 
legends  picture  to  us  the  Greek  kings  from  Thessaly  to  Ithaca 
joining  their  forces  to  avenge  against  the  ancient  city  of  Priam 
the  piratical  abduction  of  Helen,  the  most  beautiful  of  women. 
They  array  themselves  under  the  leadership  of  Agamemnon 
and  Menelaus,  sail  with  a  mighty  host  across  the  ^Jgean,  and, 
after  a  siege  of  nine  long  years,  burn  the  offending  capital  to 
ashes.  But  this  warlike  enterprise  in  a  common  cause  leads 
to  no  permanent  union  among  the  companions  in  arms.  It 
only  prepares  the  downfall  of  the  royal  houses,  opens  the  way 
to  political  revolutions,  substitutes  new  rulers  for  the  old,  and 
places  the  changing  and  agitated  political  societies  of  Greece 
on  that  career  of  progress  which  afterwards  made  her  the 
teacher,  not  only  jf  science,  letters,  and  art,  but  of  civic  wis- 


14  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

dom,  and  not  only  the  illustrious  teacher,  but  the  example,  the 
warning,  the  admonition  of  the  world. 

In  a  terse  and  vigorous  passage  of  Aristotle's  Politics,  that 
wise  man  draws  the  distinction  between  the  Asiatics  and  the 
Greeks  with  his  usual  firm  hand,  and  touches  upon  the  weak- 
ness as  well  as  the  strength  of  the  latter.  "  The  Asiatic 
nations,''  says  he,  "  are  intellectual,  and  skilful  in  art,  but 
without  force  of  mind  ;  wherefore  they  continue  ruled  and 
enslaved.  But  the  Hellenic  race,  occupying  a  middle  position 
between  the  Northern  regions  and  the  Asiatic,  participates  in 
the  qualities  of  both ;  for  they  are  high-spirited  and  intellect- 
ual ;  wherefore  they  maintain  their  freedom,  they  have  the 
best  political  institutions,  and,  could  they  be  brought  under  one 
government,  they  might  rule  the  world.  And  there  are  simi- 
lar differences  between  the  several  tribes  of  the  Greeks  them- 
selves ;  for  some  of  them  have  a  one-sided  nature,  while  others 
are  well  blended  and  tempered  to  the  exercise  of  both  these 
forces.  It  is  evident,  then,  that  those  who  are  to  be  well  trained 
by  the  legislator  to  virtue  must  be  both  intellectual  and  high- 
spirited."  In  the  same  passage  the  philosopher  speaks  of  the 
Northern  races  as  being  "  full  of  spirit,  but  lacking  in  intelli- 
gence ;  wherefore  they  maintain  their  liberty,  but  are  incapa- 
ble of  political  organization,  and  cannot  rule  over  their  neigh- 
bors." To  him,  as  he  looked  at  the  condition  of  the  human 
race  from  Athens  as  a  central  point  of  observation,  with  the 
history  of  Asiatic  despotism  contrasted  with  the  regulated 
liberty  of  the  Hellenic  people  on  the  one  side,  and  the  lawless 
freedom  of  the  tribes  of  the  frozen  North  on  the  other,  these 
were  the  three  categories  under  which  the  nations  of  the  earth 
ranged  themselves. 

As  we  look  back  upon  the  history  of  antiquity,  we  are,  per- 
haps, inclined  to  think  that  the  merits  of  the  Greeks  were  lim- 
ited to  the  production  of  exquisite  models  in  literature  and  the 
arts.  In  studying  Homer  and  the  tragedians,  we  feel  the  tran- 
scendent excellence  of  their  poets.  When  we  come  to  He 
rodotus  and  Thucydides,  the  flowing  and  picturesque  narrative 


GREEK  POLITY.  15 

of  the  one,  and  the  deep  wisdom,  condensed  style,  and  powerful 
coloring  of  the  other,  impress  us  with  the  belief  that  historical 
exposition  was  their  special  gift.  When  we  master  the  perfec- 
tions of  Demosthenes,  and  rise  from  his  inspired  page  glowring 
with  the  emotions  excited  by  the  loftiness  of  his  pure  and  pa- 
triotic spirit,  we  are  apt  to  fancy  that  the  genius  of  Hellas  cul> 
minated  in  political  eloquence.  When  we  wander  through  the 
museums  of  Europe,  and  gaze  upon  the  sculptured  gods  and 
godlike  men  of  Greece,  the  Apollo,  the  Olympian  Zeus,  the 
Aphrodite,  the  Athene,  the  Demosthenes,  the  Pericles  of  the 
Vatican,  or  the  matchless  marbles  from  the  Parthenon  now 
collected  in  the  British  Museum,  we  scarcely  resist  tLe  convic- 
tion that  they  must  have  been  a  race  of  artists,  and  nothing 
more,  so  high  beyond  the  utmost  reach  of  modern  genius  did 
the  Hellenic  masters  rise  in  those  marvels  of  beauty  and  grand- 
eur which  once  adorned  the  city  of  Athens,  and  now  give  the 
laws  of  taste  to  the  whole  civilized  world.  When  we  follow 
Plato  through  the  realms  of  speculative  philosophy,  and  Aris- 
totle over  the  immense  sweep  of  his  observation  of  nature  and 
man,  and  consider  how  these  sovereign  intellects  have  borne 
absolute  sway  in  the  kingdoms  of  philosophy,  from  their  day  to 
the  present,  it  seems  to  us  that  the  mind  of  Greece  must  have 
exhausted  itself  in  philosophical  investigations  and  the  construc- 
tion of  theories  on  God,  man,  and  nature.  But  either  of  these 
impressions  would  be  hasty.  In  these  several  ways  the  Hellenic 
genius  made  illustrious  and  ever-memorable  achievements ;  but 
when  we  sum  them  all  up  into  one  superb  whole  of  national 
deservings,  they  form  only  a  part  of  what  those  ancients  did 
towards  the  perfecting  of  human  society.  The  Romans  not 
only  sent  their  sons  to  Greece  for  literary  culture,  they  s^nt 
their  senators  to  copy  the  Grecian  laws.  All  the  leading 
principles  of  Roman  law  had  their  origin  in  the  legislation  of 
Greece ;  so  that  Greece  not  only  introduced  the  arts  into  La- 
tium,  but  laii  the  foundation,  by  her  legislative  talent,  at  once 
subtile,  profound,  and  practical,  of  the  law  of  Europe  and 
America. 


16  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECK 

With  one  or  two  exceptions,  the  city  was  the  state  ;  the 
constitution,  iroktreia,  was  the  organization  of  the  city,  7roA.t9. 
Thebes  was  not  the  capital  of  Bceotia,  though  she  was  its  most 
important  city.  The  other  towns  of  that  province  had  their 
several  constitutions,  and  never,  except  upon  some  strong  com- 
pulsion, yielded  the  right  of  sovereignty  —  the  power  of  form- 
ing alliances,  of  making  war  and  concluding  peace  —  to  their 
ambitious  neighbors.  The  political  duty  of  the  citizen  was  to 
the  town  of  his  birth  or  settlement.  To  the  Plataean  and  the 
Thespian  the  Theban  was  politically  an  alien,  and  sometimes 
a  deadly  foe.  Cities  on  opposite  sides  of  a  mountain,  though 
acknowledging  the  common  Hellenic  tie,  seldom  considered 
themselves  as  belonging  to  the  same  country ;  their  citizens 
were  not  fellow-countrymen  ;  their  institutions  were  not  iden- 
tical ;  when  they  met  in  battle  array,  they  fought  as  any 
other  enemies  might  have  done,  and  the  victorious  party  set  up 
its  trophy  in  the  field.  The  Italian  republics  of  the  Middle 
Ages  furnish  a  parallel  in  some  points,  but  not  a  perfect  one. 
The  lines  of  separation  among  the  Greeks  were  both  geograph- 
ical and  ethnical ;  and  sometimes  ethnical  affinities  deter- 
mined the  character  of  political  institutions. 

This  state  of  severance,  combined  with  the  intellectual  ac- 
tivity of  the  race,  led  to  an  unexampled  variety  of  political  or- 
ganizations. If  every  city  had  its  constitution,  it  had  also  of 
necessity  its  constitution-makers  and  lawgivers ;  and  the  people 
who  were  to  select  the  constitution-makers  and  to  accept  the 
laws  were  not  likely  to  perform  their  functions  silently.  Dis- 
cussion of  all  conceivable  questions  naturally  and  necessarily 
had  free  course ;  and  every  little  community  formed  a  circle, 
not  of  village  politicians,  as  in  our  modern  country  towns,  but 
of  statesmen  who  had  to  deal  with  high  questions  of  constitu- 
tional law  and  foreign  policy.  "With  our  multiplying  States, 
we  imagine  that  we  have  a  complicated  system  of  governments, 
State  and  National ;  but  our  State  Constitutions  are  essentially 
alike,  that  is,  they  are,  as  the  United  States  Constitution  re- 
quires they  should  be,  all  republican.     But  the  Greek  city  of 


GREEK   POLITY.  17 

state  trained  its  fundamental  law  as  it  pleased,  with  no  refer- 
ence to  a  central  tribunal,  and  no  apprehension  of  a  conflict 
with  the  constitution  of  the  united  country.  In  the  historical 
times,  the  less  powerful  cities  were  distracted  bv  factions ;  but 
these  factions  or  parties  did  not  turn  upon  the  interpretation  of 
the  fundamental  law ;  —  they  turned  upon  the  question  of  hav- 
ing this  or  that  form  of  government,  —  not  as  to  whether  one 
party  or  another  should  come  in  and  wield  the  powers  of  gov- 
ernment, while  the  other  went  out  and  became  the  opposition. 
It  was  a  conflict  of  life  and  death  between  a  tyranny  or  an  oli- 
garchy on  the  one  side,  and  a  democracy  on  the  other ;  and 
the  party  which  gained  the  upper  hand  sometimes  exiled  or 
put  to  death  the  opposing  leaders.  In  one  case,  according 
to  the  striking  expression  of  the  Attic  orators,  the  people  — 
the  demos  —  was  overthrown ;  in  the  other,  the  people  was 
restored.  But  under  these  three  forms  the  variety  of  details 
was  very  great.  Some  notion  of  the  wealth  of  political  experi- 
ment, if  not  of  experience,  in  Greece,  may  be  drawn  from  the 
fact  that  the  lost  work  of  Aristotle,  the  Politeiai,  contained  an 
analysis  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-eight  constitutions  of  cities, 
besides  several  peculiar  democratic,  oligarchic,  aristocratic,  and 
tyrannic  forms,  and  that  fragments  of  fifty-two  of  these  consti- 
tutional analyses  are  found  in  his  extant  writings. 


▼Ok   II. 


LECTURE    II. 

CONSTITUTIONS   OF   THE   HEROIC  AGE.  —  SLAVERY. 

At  the  close  of  my  last  Lecture,  I  alluded  to  the  great  num- 
ber of  political  constitutions  in  which  the  experience  of  the 
Grecian  commonwealths  was  embodied.  The  study  of  Homer 
gives  us  the  outlines  of  what  may  be  called  the  primitive  or 
heroic  constitutions,  which  seem  everywhere  to  have  been 
nearly  identical,  —  the  factors  constituting  the  state  having 
been  an  hereditary  king,  a  class  of  nobles  or  counsellors,  the 
common  people,  who,  though  having  nothing  to  do,  strictly 
speaking,  with  government,  yet  sometimes  made  their  voices 
heard  and  respected  by  their  princes,  and  were  beaten  or  other- 
wise maletreated  if  they  ventured  too  far  beyond  the  limits,  and 
the  slaves.  The  royal  constitutions  gave  way  to  the  progress 
of  political  ideas  or  to  violent  revolutions ;  —  in  some  places 
leaving  the  name  king  as  the  only  memorial  of  their  existence, 
as  in  the  King  Archon  of  Athens  ;  in  others,  as  in  Sparta,  still 
attaching  more  substantial  prerogatives  to  the  name.  The  no- 
oles,  as  a  distinct  order,  lasted  longer,  either  with  real  influence 
as  aristocracies  or  oligarchies,  or  with  only  the  influence  of 
public  opinion  in  favor  of  the  high-born  and  the  long-descended, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  Eupatridae. 

The  scene  in  the  Iliad,  when,  in  order  to  test  the  feeling  of 
the  army,  Agamemnon  proposes  to  return  to  Greece,  leaving 
the  war  unfinished,  probably  presents  a  good  picture  of  the 
mutual  relations  of  king,  nobles,  and  people  in  that  age.  The 
people  are  summoned  to  the  assembly,  Rumor  moving  about 
among  them  as  they  swarm  along  the  shore.  Nine  heralds 
keep  them  in  order.     Agamemnon  rises,  sceptre  in  hand,  and, 


CONSTITUTIONS   OF   THE   HEROIC  AGE.  19 

having  recounted  the  mishaps  of  the  war,  proposes,  hard  as  it  is, 
to  go  home.  No  sooner  is  this  said  than  the  people  who  hear 
the  speech  are  stirred  with  a  mighty  desire  to  behold  again 
their  native  land.  The  assembly  is  moved  like  the  waves 
of  the  Icarian  Sea,  stirred  by  Eurus  and  Notus ;  they  shout  to 
one  another ;  they  rush  to  the  ships  and  begin  to  launch  them , 
and  thoir  cries  rise  to  heaven.  But  this  is  not  exactly  what 
the  king  wishes ;  they  have  been  too  prompt  to  take  him  at  his 
word ;  and  forthwith  Ulysses,  instigated  by  the  blue-eyed  Athe- 
ne, throws  his  cloak  aside,  takes  Agamemnon's  sceptre,  and 
hastens  to  the  ships.  There,  meeting  nobles  and  leaders,  he 
addresses  them  politely,  and  intimates  that  Agamemnon  did 
not  mean  exactly  what  he  had  said,  and  that  it  is  not  for  such 
men  as  them  to  play  the  coward.  But  whatever  man  of  the 
people  he  finds  clamoring,  he  smites  him  with  the  sceptre,  and 
rebukes  him  with  speech,  the  blow  coming  first  and  the  word 
afterwards,  and  the  word  quite  as  hard  as  the  blow.  "Sit 
down,  sir,  and  listen  to  your  betters.  You  are  of  no  account  in 
war  nor  in  council.  We  cannot  all  be  kings  here ;  the  rule  of 
many  is  not  good.  Let  there  be  one  ruler,  one  king,  to  whom 
the  son  of  Saturn  has  given  the  sceptre  to  rule  therewith." 
And  they  meekly  submit.  We  cannot  help  admiring  the  truly 
wonderful  originality  with  which  Homer  has  wrought  this 
scene  ;  the  unsuccessful  trial  of  the  sentiment  of  his  people  by 
Agamemnon ;  the  readiness  with  which  they  take  his  word ; 
the  aristocratic  demeanor  with  which  Ulysses  discriminates 
between  the  common  man  and  the  lord,  when  he  quells  the  tu- 
mult ;  the  meekness  with  which  the  men  submit  to  the  royal 
interpretation  of  their  liberty,  namely,  the  liberty  of  doing  ex- 
actly what  they  please,  provided  they  please  to  do  exactly  what 
the  king  desires.  Still,  the  germs  of  freedom  are  quite  dis- 
cernible even  here.  The  people,  easily  scourged  back  to  the 
field  of  war,  which,  for  a  brief  moment,  they  dreamed  they  were 
to  quit  forever,  have  at  least  had  the  privilege  of  showing  what 
they  wish ;  one  day  they  will  take  the  reins  into  their  own 
hands,  and  will  have  their  turn  at  applying  the  scourge 


20  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

In  speaking  of  the  constitutions  of  the  Greeks,  and  the 
bodies  that  made  up  the  state,  we  everywhere  encounter  the 
frightful  anomaly  of  human  slavery.  There  was  a  traditior. 
that,  in  the  primitive  age,  the  soil  of  Hellas  was  free  from 
this  curse ;  and  in  historical  times  the  inhabitants  of  some  of 
the  inland  districts  —  as  the  Locrians  —  still  lived  in  such  sim- 
plicity that  they  employed  no  slaves.  But  from  the  earliest 
dawn  of  historical  light,  slavery  was  the  rule,  the  absence  of  it 
the  exception,  in  the  Grecian  states.  Homer,  true  to  humanity 
and  to  nature  in  this  as  in  every  other  aspect  of  life,  while 
taking  the  fact  as  he  saw  it  everywhere  around  him,  did  not 
fail  to  mark  its  character  in  two  memorable  lines,  which  Plato 
misquotes  in  his  Laws :  — 

"  Zeus  takes  from  man  one  half  his  worth  away 
When  on  him  falls  the  day  of  slavery." 

And  in  that  wonderfully  pathetic  scene,  never  surpassed  even 
by  Shakespeare,  —  the  parting  of  Hector  and  Andromache,  — 
the  firm  soul  of  the  hero,  over  whom  the  shadows  of  impending 
fate  are  closing,  is  shaken  only  by  the  vision  of  his  country's 
downfall,  and  of  the  wife  of  his  bosom  dragged  into  pitiless 
slavery.  Similar  feelings  are  expressed  in  the  Attic  tragedies. 
The  sorrows  of  Tecmessa  reach  the  Homeric  strain;  and  the 
frantic  soul  of  Cassandra,  as  she  approaches  the  house  of  death, 
struggles  in  vain  with  the  woe  of  captivity,  enhanced  by  the 
ghastly  prophecies  of  murder  destined  to  stain  anew  the  dwell- 
ing over  which  hovers  the  boding  troop  of  the  Furies.  Every- 
where captivity  and  slavery  go  hand  in  hand.  Both  are  taken 
for  granted  as  the  fixed  order  of  human  society.  The  prisoner 
of  war  is  reduced  to  slavery ;  the  inhabitant  of  the  conquered 
city  is  sold  into  slavery ;  the  woman  and  child,  kidnapped  by 
the  roaming  mariner  of  the  Mediterranean,  are  borne  off  to  a 
distant  island  or  city,  and  bartered  away  for  corn  or  wine,  never 
o  return  to  their  native  land.  Even  the  Greeks  of  those  early 
days,  free  as  they  were  from  most  of  the  Oriental  vices,  had 
retained  or  adopted  the  commerce  in  human  beings,  and  that 
most  dangerous  of  all  the  self-indulgences  of  the  Asiatic  world. 


SLAVEEY.  21 

the  habit  of  living  on  the  unpaid  work  of  those  less  fortu- 
nate and  gifted,  whom  an  unequal  destiny  had  placed  in  their 
power.  Even  in  that  early  age  the  trade  in  slaves  flourished 
all  around  the  JEgean  Sea,  and  the  houses  of  the  wealthy  were 
crowded  with  the  victims  of  violence,  theft,  and  treachery. 
They  tilled  the  ground,  and  took  care  of  the  cattle.  Eumseus, 
the  godlike  swineherd  of  the  Odyssey,  and  the  faithful  friend 
of  Ulysses,  is  a  slave.  Telemachus  speaks  of  the  slaves  that  his 
father  has  left  in  his  charge.  When  prisoners  were  made,  they 
were  divided  among  the  chiefs,  like  other  articles  of  plunder. 
Thus  Agamemnon  received  Chryseis,  and  Achilles  the  captive 
Briseis ;  and  many  of  the  Trojans,  some  even  of  royal  birth, 
had  been  transported  to  the  islands  and  sold  before  the  war 
was  over. 

It  is  singular  how  little  this  status  changed,  while  all  the 
other  constituent  elements  of  the  commonwealth  were  con- 
stantly undergoing  modifications.  The  kings  went  down  ;  but 
the  slaves  remained.  The  tyrants  rose  on  the  ruin  of  the  old 
heroic  monarchies  ;  but  the  slaves  remained.  Republics  came 
into  being,  ran  their  brilliant  career,  and  sank  under  the  Mace- 
donian or  Roman  supremacy  ;  but  the  slaves  still  remained. 
The  Roman  Empire  fell  in  the  West,  and  the  Byzantine,  ten 
centuries  later,  in  the  East ;  but  the  slaves  still  remained,  the 
one  permanent  and  indestructible  order  in  the  state. 

Though  existing  everywhere,  and  everywhere  substantially 
the  same,  the  condition  of  the  slave  varied  in  details  in  the 
several  states,  partly  according  to  the  other  political  institu- 
tions, and  partly  according  to  the  race  of  the  masters.  In  the 
Homeric  and  heroic  ages,  it  is  probable  that  the  servile  popu- 
lation were  in  much  the  same  position  all  over  Greece,  and 
that  the  difference  between  the  slave  and  the  poor  freeman 
was  less  than  it  was  afterward.  But  when  the  distinctive  pe- 
culiarities of  the  Dorian,  jEolian,  and  Ionian  divisions  of  the 
Hellenic  people  came  prominently  out,  manifesting  themselves 
in  political  tendencies,  in  literary  culture,  in  forms  of  art,  and 
in  dialectic  variations  from  the  old  Homeric  speech,  then  the 


22  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

relation  between  master  and  slave  assumed  a  corresponding  vari 
ety  of  aspects.  The  Dorians  and  the  Ionians  were  most  strongly 
contrasted  in  this  regard,  as  they  were  generally  in  their  politi- 
cal principles  and  their  views  of  civil  life.  The  Dorians  were 
originally  a  rude  and  warlike  race  of  mountaineers.  They  came 
down  from  their  northern  fastnesses,  and,  having  conquered 
the  old  Achaian  inhabitants,  settled  themselves  in  the  most  im- 
portant portions  of  the  Peloponnesus.  Tradition  and  poetry 
embodied  these  transactions  under  the  name  of  the  return  of 
the  Heracleidse ;  and  the  ruling  families  of  the  Spartans,  which 
became  in  time  the  most  conspicuous  and  powerful  representa- 
tives of  the  Dorian  race,  claimed  to  be  the  direct  descendants 
of  the  doughty  hero  Hercules.  The  Dorian,  under  influences 
all  of  which  cannot  be  traced,  became  in  Sparta  a  most  singular 
specimen  of  humanity.  According  to  him,  the  chief  end  of 
man  was  to  live  on  black  broth  at  home,  to  march  about  in 
heavy  armor,  to  fight  with  or  without  cause,  to  beat  or  kill  the 
Helots,  and  to  die  on  the  field  of  battle.  The  Dorian,  enter- 
taining such  views,  regarded  all  occupations  except  governing 
and  fighting  as  menial.  Tilling  the  earth,  the  mechanic  arts, 
and  commerce  were  disreputable,  and  fit  to  be  conducted  only 
by  a  servile  race.  Slaves,  therefore,  he  must  have ;  and  the 
system  which  he  organized,  and  for  a  long  time  pitilessly  car- 
l'ied  out,  —  the  system  of  Helotism,  —  was  the  most  logical, 
the  most  cruel,  the  most  fatal  in  the  end,  that  ever  blighted  a 
civil  community. 

Sparta  produced  many  noble  men,  who  signalized  their 
country  and  immortalized  themselves  by  great  deeds.  Many 
pithy  sayings  have  come  down  to  us,  showing  the  concentrated 
force  and  resistless  point  of  the  Laconic  style  of  expression. 
But  the  Spartan  constitution,  especially  as  modified  by  Lycur- 
gus,  was  a  terrible  outrage  upon  human  nature  ;  and  human 
nature  avenged  itself  at  last.  Sparta  perished,  as  an  ancient 
writer  says,  for  want  of  Spartans ;  and,  as  Thucydides  pre- 
dicted would  be  the  case,  the  traveller  at  the  present  day, 
wandering  among  the  scanty  traces  of  the  ancient  city,  finds  it 


SLAVERY.  23 

difficult  to  believe  in  the  greatness  of  her  former  power. 
Spartan  virtue  is  an  oft-repeated  phrase.  The  Spartans 
were  brave  and  hardy.  They  were  men  of  iron,  and  tried 
their  best  to  make  their  women  women  of  iron.  They  taught 
theii  children  that  the  state  was  all  in  all,  the  citizen  noth- 
ing. They  brought  them  up  in  a  socialist  community ;  they 
inculcated  craft  and  deception ;  they  exposed  the  sickly  child 
on  Mount  Taygetus,  after  a  jury  of  public  nurses  had  pro- 
nounced it  too  weakly  to  be  reared  for  the  purposes  of  the 
state. 

The  Helots  were  the  original  Achaian  inhabitants  of  South- 
ern Laconia,  subdued  in  war,  and  made  the  serfs  of  their  con- 
querors. The  name  refers  to  this  circumstance,  —  being  de- 
rived either  from  the  verb  that  means  to  capture,  or  from  a 
local  name,  Helos,  the  inhabitants  of  which  made  desperate 
fight  before  they  surrendered.  I  am  inclined  to  the  former 
explanation,  as  more  in  accordance  with  Grecian  usage.  After 
the  Spartans  had  conquered  their  neighbors,  the  Messenians, 
they  included  them  also  among  the  Helots ;  and  they  continued 
enslaved  until  Epaminondas  restored  them  to  liberty  and  their 
country,  after  the  battle  of  Leuctra.  The  Helots  had  the 
doubtful  privilege  of  belonging  to  the  state,  while  their  ser- 
vices only  were  granted  to  indrviduals.  They  cultivated  the 
land  to  which  they  were  attached,  paying  their  masters  a  cer- 
tain rent  in  a  fixed  proportion  of  the  fruits  of  the  "earth  ;  they 
were  domestic  slaves ;  they  waited  on  the  public  tables ;  they 
accompanied  the  Spartan  soldiers  to  the  field ;  and  sometimes, 
when  they  showed  distinguished  bravery,  or  rendered  great 
services  to  the  army,  they  were  emancipated.  These  circum- 
stances present  the  bright  side  of  the  picture.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  general  cruelty  of  their  treatment,  and  the  impla- 
cable hatred  they  cherished  towards  their  masters,  are  too 
woll  attested  to  admit  of  a  doubt.  They  were  flogged  for  no 
fault,  but  to  keep  their  spirits  down,  and  to  remind  them  that 
they  were  slaves.  Those  who  showed  abilities  or  high  quali- 
ties of  character,  which  might  be  an  element  of  danger  to  the 


24  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

state,  were  ruthlessly  slain  ;  and  if  the  master  failed  in  his 
duty  to  put  out  of  the  way  a  slave  of  this  description,  he  was 
exposed  to  a  legal  penalty.  They  were  made  drunk  for  the 
amusement  or  warning  of  the  young.  By  an  established  usage, 
called  crypteia,  when  the  masters  had  reason  to  apprehend  an 
outbreak  from  the  increase  of  the  servile  class,  or  from  some 
crisis  in  public  affairs  that  might  tempt  them  to  insurrection, 
the  ephors  selected  a  certain  number  of  the  young  Spartans, 
put  arms  into  their  hands,  and  sent  them  out  on  a  hidden  mis- 
sion to  slay,  wherever  they  encountered  them,  as  many  of  the 
doomed  bondsmen  as  they  pleased.  This  was  not  only  a  meas- 
ure of  state  security,  but  a  school  of  martial  training  for  the 
future  warrior.  I  do  not  believe  that  this  proceeding  was  often 
resorted  to.  Nothing  but  the  panic  of  a  servile  insurrection 
could  have  drawn  even  Spartans  into  a  measure  at  once  so 
cowardly  and  so  barbarous.  But  the  fact  that  such  assassina- 
tions took  place  under  such  circumstances  must  stand,  I  am 
afraid,  as  a  dark  blot  on  the  pages  of  Spartan  history. 

If  we  pass  over  to  Athens,  we  encounter  slavery  again  as 
one  of  the  fundamental  institutions  of  the  state ;  but,  as  I  have 
already  intimated,  with  somewhat  mitigated  rigor.  Athenian 
society  was  a  more  natural,  cheerful,  humane  mode  of  exist- 
ence than  the  Spartan.  Art,  letters,  and  industry  in  various 
forms  were  held  in  honor  there.  Solon,  the  great  lawgiver  and 
the  founder  of  the  democracy,  had  been  engaged  in  trade,  which 
he  adorned  with  philosophy  and  poetry.  He  was  not  a  mere 
theorist,  nor  a  merely  practical  man  ;  but  his  practice  was  en- 
lightened by  general  principles,  and  his  general  principles  were 
guided,  modified,  and  controlled  in  their  application  by  practice. 
In  his  constitution  property  had  great  weight,  —  property  qual- 
ifications determining  the  citizen's  share  in  the  power  of  the 
state  and  his  eligibility  to  office.  His  institutions  thus  brought 
industrial  and  commercial  pursuits  to  something  near  a  level 
with  patrician  birth  and  hereditary  wealth  in  political  influ- 
ence and  social  estimation.  The  Athenian  citizen,  therefore, 
was  not  taught  to  regard  all  labor  as  servile.     I  do  not  mean 


SLAVERY.  25 

to  say  that  there  was  not,  even  among  the  Athenians,  too 
large  a  leaven  of  the  old  contempt  for  the  work  of  the  hands ; 
yet  the  tendency  was  to  a  liberal  feeling  upon  this  subject. 
The  Athenian  was  fond  of  country  life,  and  often  not  only 
took  the  oversight  of  his  fields  and  his  gardens,  but  labored 
hard  among  his  slaves  with  his  own  hands,  while  his  wife  ap- 
portioned the  domestic  tasks  to  her  maidens,  and  taught  them 
how  to  do  the  work,  which,  if  needful,  she  could  well  perform 
herself.  The  picture  which  Xenophon  gives  us  in  the  GEco- 
nomicus,  of  the  household  arrangements  of  Ischomachus  and 
his  young  bride,  is  a  charming  representation  of  domestic  life 
among  the  middle  classes  of  the  Athenian  citizens. 

It  was  no  uncommon  thing  for  men  engaged  in  the  mechanic 
arts  to  exercise  influence  in  public  affairs,  either  by  their  na- 
tive talents  or  their  acquired  wealth ;  and  sometimes  coarse 
and  vulgar  men,  by  the  mere  force  of  impudence,  gained  an 
ascendency  which  overmatched  the  sway  of  historical  names 
and  aristocratic  birth.  But  with  all  these  popular  tendencies, 
the  ancient,  time-honored  institution  of  slavery  was  assumed  as 
a  necessity,  and  taken  for  granted,  by  statesmen  and  philos- 
ophers alike.  We  know  more  of  the  condition  of  the  slaves  in 
Attica  than  elsewhere,  because  we  know  more  of  Athens  gen- 
erally than  of  any  other  commonwealth  in  Greece,  through  the 
immortal  records  of  her  literature.  Boeckh  estimates  the  en- 
tire population  of  Attica  at  about  five  hundred  thousand,  of 
whom  three  fourths  were  slaves.  According  to  Aristotle,  the 
neighboring  island  of  jEgina,  which  now  has  a  population  of 
only  a  few  hundred,  contained,  at  the  period  of  its  greatest 
power,  four  hundred  and  seventy  thousand  slaves.  The  slaves 
were  partly  private  and  partly  public  property,  partly  pris- 
oners of  war  and  partly  bought  in  the  slave  marts.  Some 
were  imported  from  Thessaly,  but  the  largest  portion  from 
Asia  Minor,  through  the  intermediate  agency  of  factors  among 
the  Greek  cities  of  the  coast  or  the  ^Egean  islands.  Chios, 
which  boasted  to  be  the  oirthplace  of  Homer,  early  enjoyed 
the  bad  eminence  of  being  the  greatest  slave-market  in  the 


20  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

Grecian  world,  and  of  making  the  largest  profit  from  the  sale  of 
human  beings.  Another  class  of  slaves  consisted  of  those  who 
were  born  in  servitude,  and  inherited  their  parents'  condition. 
The  possession  of  a  black,  that  is,  an  African  slave,  was  a  fash- 
ionable distinction.  Theophrastus,  the  friend  and  pupil  of 
Aristotle,  —  in  one  of  the  admirable  series  of  Characters  which 
nas  come  down  to  us  from  the  wreck  of  his  works,  —  mentions 
among  the  characteristics  of  the  vain  man  that  "he  takes  vast 
pains  to  be  provided  with  a  black  servant,  who  always  attends 
him  in  public."  With  showy  ladies  it  was  also  a  point  of 
rivalry  to  have  negro  slaves  in  their  train.  But,  in  general, 
the  slaves  belonged  to  the  Northern  and  the  Asiatic  nations, 
styled  by  the  Greeks  Barbarians.  They  considered  it  a  settled 
point,  that  Hellenes  might  rightfully  enslave  Barbarians. 

The  numbers  owned  by  rich  Athenians  were  sometimes 
very  great.  The  poorest  citizen  had  at  least  one  slave  to  assist 
him  in  his  labors.  In  the  houses  of  those  of  larger  means,  in 
the  city,  slaves  were  employed  in  every  kind  of  service, — 
grinding  (their  business  from  the  days  of  Homer),  baking,  cook- 
ing, marketing,  making  clothes,  and  attending  upon  their  mas- 
ters and  mistresses  when  they  appeared  abroad.  Three  such 
attendants,  at  least,  were  necessary  to  a  stylish  appearance ; 
and  many  more  were  frequently  to  be  seen  in  the  train  of  a 
wealthy  citizen.  They  were  employed  in  all  sorts  of  trades 
and  handicrafts,  sometimes  under  the  owner's  eye,  sometimes 
under  the  charge  of  an  overseer,  —  as  in  the  case  of  Nicias,  who 
paid  a  salary  of  a  talent  to  the  superintendent  of  his  men  in  the 
mines.  The  father  of  Demosthenes  —  a  substantial  citizen  of 
the  industrial  class  —  carried  on  the  manufacture  of  cutlery  and 
bedsteads  with  a  gang  of  more  than  fifty  slaves,  who  constituted 
a  large  part  of  his  estate  at  his  death.  The  trading  vessels  of 
Athenian  commerce  were  generally  manned  by  slaves,  and  fre- 
quently they  were  mingled  with  freemen  in  the  crews  of  vessels 
of  war ;  but  they  did  not,  like  the  Helots  of  Sparta,  serve  in  the 
army.  Of  the  public  slaves,  some  were  employed  in  the  service 
of  the  courts,  having  been  qualified  at  the  public  charge  for  the 


SLAVERY.  2t 

duties  of  their  respective  places.  A  kind  of  city-guard,  or  po 
lice,  called  bowmen,  or  Scythians,  consisted  also  of  slaves,  to 
the  number  of  three  hundred  at  first,  and  afterwards  twelve 
hundred.  One  .of  their  duties  was  to  keep  order  at  the  public 
meetings,  and  to  remove  unruly  persons  when  directed  to  do 
so  by  the  presiding  officers. 

The  slaves  of  the  private  citizen  were  absolutely  the  property 
of  their  master.  Their  earnings  were  his  revenue.  They  were 
subject  to  his  will,  and  the  victims  of  his  caprice.  They  could 
be  given  in  pledge  like  any  other  property.  They  could  be 
scourged  with  impunity.  Their  testimony  was  not  taken  on 
oath,  but  only  under  torture.  It  seems  most  strange  that 
this  hideous  abuse  should  ever  have  grown  up,  I  will  not  say 
among  a  civilized  people,  but  among  those  who  had  the  small- 
est conceivable  endowment  of  common  sense.  Yet  the  melan- 
choly truth  is,  that  not  only  did  Pagan  antiquity  adhere  to  the 
belief  that  torture  was  the  sole  means  of  obtaining  the  truth 
from  servile  witnesses,  but  Christian  nations,  down  to  a  com- 
paratively late  period,  were  under  the  same  horrible  delusion. 
Generally  speaking,  the  administration  of  justice  was  conducted 
on  humane  principles  among  the  Athenians ;  but  the  courts 
admitted  this  absurd  anomaly,  and  the  orators,  apparently  with- 
out suspecting  its  fallacy  or  its  cruelty,  constantly  allude  to  it, 
or  offer  it  in  evidence,  or  challenge  it  from  their  opponents. 
How  often  it  was  practised  we  cannot  tell ;  but  every  slave 
>vas  liable  to  be  put  to  the  question,  on  the  offer  of  his  master 
or  the  demand  of  his  master's  opponent,  whenever  a  litigation 
arose  between  them. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  slave  at  Athens  enjoyed  the  pro- 
tection of  the  laws  in  some  important  respects.  He  could  not 
be  put  to  death  without  the  commission  of  crime,  and  the  sen- 
tence of  a  legal  tribunal.  No  man  could  strike  or  maletreat 
him,  without  rendering  himself  liable  to  an  action.  If  he  had 
a  cruel  master,  he  could  seek  asylum  in  the  temple  of  Theseus, 
and  demand  to  be  sold ;  so  that  Demosthenes  justly  boasts  of 
the  superior  humanity  of  the    Attic  law  in  its  treatment  of 


28  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

Blaves.  When  manumitted, — as  they  might  be,  and  frequently 
were  without  any  formality,  —  the  slaves  took  rank  with  resi- 
dent aliens,  but  were  not  entirely  released  from  obligations 
to  their  former  masters,  who  sustained  the  relation  of  patrons 
towards  them,  —  a  relation  involving  certain  reciprocal  duties, 
regulated  by  law.  Yet  notwithstanding  the  alleviations  of 
the  servile  lot  at  Athens,  its  victims  were  not  satisfied.  The 
slave  —  the  "animated  instrument,"  as  Aristotle  calls  him  — 
frequently  made  his  escape ;  and  the  master,  if  he  chose  to  pur- 
sue him,  could  either  capture  the  fugitive,  or  recover  him  by 
offering  a  reward.  I  find  nowhere  a  treaty  or  agreement  to 
send  back  fugitive  slaves,  though  there  may  have  been  such ; 
nor  do  I  find  any  class  of  persons  mentioned,  like  the  Fugi- 
tivarii  of  the  Romans,  who  employed  themselves  in  recovering 
them  ;  nor  do  I  find  any  trace  of  a  law  forbidding  the  affording 
them  shelter,  until  Greece  became  a  part  of  the  Roman  empire. 
The  truth  is,  I  believe,  that  the  laws  on  slavery  among  the 
Greeks  were  never  systematically  organized ;  certainly  not  as 
between  the  different  cities.  In  the  only  allusion  I  remember 
to  the  runaway,  in  Greek  literature,  the  master  avows  his  pur- 
pose of  pursuing  him  himself.  If  the  slave  ran  away,  the  owner 
had  to  run  too,  if  he  wanted  to  catch  him,  or  else  to  pay  some 
one  the  <ra>arpov  for  bringing  him  back.  But  it  is  probable 
that  the  fugitive  to  another  city  would  have  had  no  protection 
in  the  laws  or  sentiments  of  the  people  there ;  and  that  the 
owner  or  his  agent  might  lay  hands  upon  his  "  animated  in- 
strument," without  the  slightest  opposition  from  those  who 
had  animated  instruments  of  their  own  at  home. 

I  need  not  add,  that,  as  the  Athenian  slave  was  his  master's 
property,  he  could  be  sold  like  any  other  species  of  property 
\n  Athens ;  that  one  division  of  the  Agora  was  appropriated  to 
this  traffic ;  and  that  the  article  to  be  sold  was  obliged  to 
mount  a  stone  block,  to  show  himself  to  the-  purchaser,  and  to 
undergo  any  amount  of  manipulation  the  customer  might  re- 
quire to  satisfy  himself  as  to  the  quality  of  the  merchandise 
Hence  the  well-known  phrase,  to  be  sold  from  the  stone. 


SLAVERY.  29 

I  have  already  alluded  to  the  sources  from  which  the  Greeks 
procured  their  slaves.  The  general  doctrine  was,  that  captives 
ir,  war  and  barbarians  might  rightfully  be  reduced  to  servitude 
—  captives  in  war,  because  the  captor  has  a  right  to  the  life 
of  his  enemy,  and,  for  stronger  reasons,  to  his  services ;  bar- 
barians, because,  they  being  inferiors,  and  it  being  a  law  of 
nature  that  inferiors  shall  serve  their  superiors,  bondage  is  their 
natural  condition.  The  doctrine  with  regard  to  captives  was 
modified  by  the  introduction  of  the  principle  and  usage  of  ran- 
som into  the  laws  of  war  among  the  Grecian  states.  To  dis- 
miss prisoners  without  a  ransom  was  a  rare  act  of  humanity. 
Among  the  noble  deeds  of  Demosthenes,  none  deserve  a  higher 
praise  than  his  frequent  charity  in  ransoming  from  captivity 
countrymen  who  were  too  poor  to  ransom  themselves.  This 
rule,  however,  was  often  set  aside.  The  inhabitants  of  cities 
taken  after  a  long  siege  were  not  seldom  sold  in  a  body.  I 
am  sorry  to  say  that  the  history  of  Athens  is  blackened  by 
more  than  one  transaction  of  this  sort ;  and  when  the  Athe- 
nians themselves  met  with  disaster  in  the  wild  invasion  of 
Sicily,  the  survivors  of  their  defeated  army  expiated  the  na- 
tional crime  by  laboring  in  the  quarries  under  the  blazing  sun 
of  noonday,  or  perishing  by  the  nightly  dew  and  frost.  A 
few  owed  a  milder  fate  to  the  verses  of  Euripides,  which  they 
had  learned  by  hearing  his  plays  in  happier  hours  at  the  Dio- 
nysiac  Theatre,  and  now  softened  the  animosity  of  their  captors 
by  repeating.  Strange  contradictions  of  the  Hellenic  char- 
acter, —  one  day  to  condemn  to  hopeless  servitude  and  cruel 
task-work  men  of  the  same  lineage  with  themselves,  and  the 
next  day  to  set  the  captives  free  for  a  mere  song ! 

Other  examples  —  examples  of  individuals  —  are  still  more 
striking.  Diogenes  the  Cynic  was  taken  by  pirates,  and  car- 
ried to  Crete,  where,  being  offered  for  sale,  just  as  the  auction- 
eer was  about  to  call  for  bids  the  captive  shouted  out,  "  Who 
wishes  to  buy  a  master  ? "  He  was  bought  by  a  Corinthian 
gentleman,  Xeniades,  over  whom  he  acquired  such  influence 
that  he  gave  him  his  freedom,  and  intrusted  to  him  the  edu 


30  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

cation  of  his  children.  When  afterwards  he  had  a  slave  of 
his  own,  and  the  slave,  not  fancying  the  service  of  a  master 
who  lived  in  a  tub,  ran  away,  Diogenes  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
and  said,  "  If  he  can  do  without  Diogenes,  Diogenes  can  do 
without  him," — a  very  sensible  comment,  and  the  best  way 
of  disposing  of  the  whole  matter.  Perhaps  the  personal  expe- 
rience of  the  philosopher  made  him  reluctant  to  undertake  the 
pursuit.  A  still  more  remarkable  case  is  that  of  Plato.  In 
one  of  his  visits  to  Sicily,  he  was  invited  by  Dionysius,  the  ty- 
rant, to  an  interview.  The  philosopher  rather  romantically 
ventured  to  preach  liberalism  to  the  despot,  who  answered, 
uncivilly  enough,  "Your  words  are  the  words  of  a  dotard,"  — 
to  which  Plato  replied,  "  And  yours  are  the  words  of  a  ty- 
rant." The  tyrant  had  the  advantage  in  power,  though  the 
philosopher  was  the  stronger  in  argument.  In  a  rage,  Diony- 
sius handed  him  over  to  Pollis,  a  Lacedaemonian  ambassador, 
who  took  him  to  JEgina  and  sold  him  as  a  slave  ;  though  what 
use  could  be  made  of  him  in  that  capacity  it  is  not  easy  to 
divine.  He  was  rescued  from  this  condition  by  Anniceris,  a 
philosophic  friend,  whose  acquaintance  he  had  made  at  Cyrene, 
and  who  paid  for  him  twenty  or  thirty  minae,  that  is,  about 
twenty  or  thirty  times  the  price  of  a  common  slave,  but  only 
about  one  third  of  the  price  of  a  superintendent  of  the  mines. 
On  his  return  to  Athens,  his  fellow-citizens  sent  the  money  to 
Anniceris,  who  refused  to  receive  it,  saying,  "  The  Athenians 
are  not  the  only  people  in  the  world  who  have  a  right  to  esteem 
Plato."  The  money  was  afterwards  laid  out  in  purchasing  the 
grounds  of  the  Academy,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  out  of  the 
city  of  Athens  on  the  north,  —  the  spot  which  his  genius  made 
forever  illustrious,  —  the  spot  which  Cicero,  on  his  way  to 
Athens,  turned  aside  to  visit  before  entering  the  gates  of  the 
city,  —  the  spot  on  which  every  scholar  treads  with  indescrib- 
able emotion,  as  he  wanders  among  the  olive-groves,  which 
still,  as  of  old,  are  watered  by  the  rills  of  the  Cephissus.  That 
piece  of  ground,  whose  name  is  clothed  with  the  noble  asso- 
ciations of  the  highest  philosophy,  was  secured  to  immorta\ 


SLAVERY.  31 

fame  for  the  price  affixed  by  his  owner  to  the  great  founder  of 
the  Academy  —  as  a  slave. 

It  was  not,  therefore,  exclusively  barbarians  who,  in  polished 
Greece  and  in  the  best  days  of  Athenian  letters  and  art,  were 
subjected  to  the  lot  of  servitude.  Of  course,  the  condition  in 
which  a  large  majority  of  the  population  were  found,  and  into 
which  any  one  might  fall,  could  not  fail  to  be  considered  by 
thoughtful  minds.  How  was  it  regarded  by  them  ?  I  have 
already  shown  that  its  necessity  seems  to  have  been  admitted, 
almost  without  an  exception.  Homer,  whose  language  is  so 
pathetic  in  describing  its  woes,  does  not  appear  to  have  con- 
ceived a  remedy  ;  and  in  delineating  its  evils,  his  sympathy  is 
limited  to  the  condition  of  those  who  fall  from  high  estate,  by 
the  cruel  chances  of  war,  into  the  slavery  of  captivity.  It  was 
Hecuba,  it  was  Andromache,  —  royal  ladies,  —  whose  un- 
equalled woes  drew  tears  from  Ionian  assemblies,  as  the  rhap- 
sodist  chanted  the  undying  tale.  As  for  the  common. lot  of  the 
serf  tilling  the  ground,  or  the  maiden  grinding  at  the  mill,  — 
that  was  too  much  a  matter  of  course,  too  fixed  and  permanent 
a  form  of  life,  to  wake  the  song  of  the  epic  muse.  Tragedy, 
like  the  epic,  dealt  in  stately  numbers  with  the  sorrows  of  the 
great,  the  crimes  of  kings,  and  doomed  heroic  houses.  The 
slave  is  the  scarcely  noticed  attendant,  —  the  messenger,  the 
armed  retainer,  or  here  and  there  the  son  or  daughter  of  a 
princely  race,  wearing  the  unworthy  weeds  of  a  degraded  lot; 
and  it  was  these  whose  sorrows,  told  in  the  verse  of  ^schylus, 
Sophocles,  and  Euripides,  drew  tears  from  the  spectators.  It 
Vas  again  Andromache,  Polyxena,  Cassandra,  Hecuba.  Here 
the  sentiment  which  touched  the  popular  heart  was  Cassan- 
dra's, "  The  inspiration  remains,  even  in  the  mind  enslaved  "  ; 
or  that  of  Sophocles,  "If  the  body  is  enslaved,  the  mind  is 
free  "  ;  or  of  Euripides,  "  To  many  slaves,  there  is  the  shame- 
ful name ;  while  their  minds  have  larger  liberty  than  the  minds 
)f  those  who  are  not  slaves  "  :  — 

"  One  thing  alone  dishonor  brings  on  slaves, 
The  name;  in  all  things  else  the  ?irtuous  slave 
Lb  the  equal  of  the  free." 


32  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

In  the  old  comedy,  which  occupied  itself  with  political  rela- 
tions and  living  characters,  or  with  literary  controversies  and 
poetical  rivalries,  the  slave  appears  as  a  standing  and  necessary 
figure,  but  plays  a  subordinate  part.  He  is  sometimes  a  joker 
or  a  buffoon  ;  sometimes  a  character  much  like  Sancho  Panza. 
Xanthias,  in  "The  Frogs"  of  Aristophanes, — the  slave  of 
Bacchus,  and  his  companion  in  the  descent  to  Hades,  —  is  an 
amusing  specimen  of  this  class.  Carion,  in  the  "  Plutus,"  is 
introduced  as  lamenting  his  unhappy  lot,  that,  not  being  the 
owner  of  himself,  he  must  needs  follow  a  crack-brained  master 
wherever  he  chooses  to  lead ;  and  in  the  dialogue  on  the  bless- 
ings procurable  by  wealth,  his  selection  of  favorite  objects 
is  quite  in  Sancho  Panza's  vein.  In  the  later  comedy,  which 
was  founded  on  the  general  observation  of  life,  the  slave  comes 
forward  much  more  prominently,  and  probably  appears  in  the 
real  character  he  bore  as  an  element  of  Attic  society.  The 
poet  of  the  later  comedy  was  entangled  by  no  theories.  Ad- 
mitting the  fact  as  a  necessary  one,  he  was  not,  like  the  theo- 
retical statesman,  bound  to  justify  it,  nor  did  he  care  directly  to 
condemn  it.  The  general  character  of  the  slave  —  with  some 
variety  in  the  shading  —  is  that  of  a  good-natured  rogue,  often 
wittier  than  his  master.  He  is  wasteful,  extravagant,  a  glut- 
ton, a  wine-bibber,  in  spite  of  the  laws  that  prohibited  the  drink- 
ing of  wine  to  his  rank,  —  a  prohibition  considered  to  be  one 
of  the  hardest  conditions  of  his  lot.  He  lies  to  the  most  enor- 
mous extent,  —  why  should  he  not  ?  He  is  the  pimp  and 
pander  to  all  the  vices  of  the  young.  He  has  a  boundless 
supply  of  jokes,  —  good,  bad,  and  indifferent.  He  is  without 
the  slightest  moral  sense  on  any  subject.  In  short,  his  animal 
appetites  have  the  largest  development ;  his  moral  qualities 
the  smallest ;  while  his  intellectual  faculties  are  sharpened,  by 
the  temptations  of  his  position,  for  the  successful  performance 
of  all  sorts  of  petty  rascalities.  Sometimes  he  comes  in  as  a 
cook,  priding  himself  on  a  fine-flavored  sauce  of  his  own  inven- 
tion, or  on  the  manner  in  which  he  has  served  up  a  tunny,  or 
a  mullet,  or  a  Copaic  eel.     In  one  very  amusing  fragment,  the 


SLAVERY.  83 

cook  has  a  passion  for  quoting  Homer,  and  drives  his  master, 
who  cares  more  for  dinner  than  for  poetry,  nearly  out  of  his 
senses.  In  short,  the  slaves  of  the  new  comedy  exhibit  all  the 
low  humors,  drolleries,  and  vices  of  common  life  in  Athens. 
But  on  the  other  hand,  the  comic  writer,  true  to  all  the  as- 
pects of  Athenian  life,  was  not  blind  to  the  fact  of  the  essential 
humanity  of  the  slave.  As  the  tragedian  said  that  the  Divine 
inspiration  remained  in  the  mind  enslaved,  so  the  comic  painter 
often  gave  expression  to  the  natural,  and  therefore  inextin- 
guishable, feeling  of  the  universal  manhood  of  man.  Says  on«» 
of  the  characters  in  a  fragment  of  Philemon : 

"  Although  a  slave,  his  flesh  is  just  the  same  ; 
For  none  by  nature  e'er  was  born  a  slave : 
But  chance  it  was  the  body  that  enslaved." 

Says  the  slave  in  another  fragment  of  the  same  author: 

"  Although  a  slave,  O  master,  none  the  less 
Is  he  a  man,  if  he  but  be  a  man." 

Menander,  the  masterly  observer  of  human  nature,  the  loss 
of  whose  works  is  the  greatest  loss  that  ancient  literature  has 
sustained,  says : 

"  The  slave  in  all  things  learns  to  be  a  slave, 
And  so  a  rogue ;  but  give  him  liberty, 
'T  is  that  shall  make  him  better  than  all  else." 

And  again: 

"  Serve  like  a  freeman,  —  thou  shalt  be  no  slave." 


LECTURE    III. 

PLATO   AND   ARISTOTLE   ON   SLAVERY.  —  SLAVERY  AND 
CHRISTIANITY. 

I  have  given  a  rapid  sketch  of  the  institution  of  slavery 
among  the  Greeks,  and  of  the  way  in  which  it  was  regardea 
by  the  people  and  represented  by  the  poets.  I  should  leave 
this  part  of  my  subject  quite  too  imperfectly  handled,  if  I  did 
not  trace,  at  least  briefly,  the  speculative  views  expressed  with 
regard  to  it  by  the  leading  Greek  writers  on  political  science. 
I  shall  limit  myself  to  two,  —  Plato  and  Aristotle,  —  though 
the  subject  is  touched  upon,  in  a  fragmentary  manner  or  inci- 
dentally, by  many  others. 

There  are  two  works  of  Plato  that  have  a  special  interest  in 
this  regard,  —  the  "Republic"  and  the  "Laws,"  —  both  be- 
longing to  the  later  period  of  his  life.  Of  their  general  char- 
acter I  shall  elsewhere  speak ;  I  refer  to  them  now  only  in 
connection  with  this  one  subject.  Plato  was  descended  from 
the  most  illustrious  families  in  Athens.  Not  only  had  his  great 
natural  genius  been  improved  by  the  usual  education  of  ar» 
Athenian  gentleman,  but  he  had  travelled  largely,  and  had 
mjoyed  the  benefits  of  an  extensive  acquaintance  with  the 
most  eminent  personages  —  political  and  literary  —  in  other 
countries.  I  have  already  alluded  to  one  of  the  incidents  of 
his  years  of  travel  which  was  not  altogetner  agreeable.  Re- 
turning to  Athens,  he  began  to  teach  about  B.  C.  389,  and 
remained  there,  with  the  exception  of  the  time  spent  in  two 
visits  to  Sicily,  until  his  death,  B.C.  347,  —  more  than  forty 
years.  In  his  teachings,  as  was  customary  with  the  Greek 
philosophers,  he  connected  theology,   philosophy,  ethics,  and 


PLATO  AND  ARISTOTLE  ON  SLAVERY.  35 

politics,  regarding  these  sciences  as  having  the  most  intimate 
mutual  relations. 

Plato  did  not  approve  of  the  Athenian  democracy.  The 
instability  and  violence  which  occasionally  disturbed  his  philo- 
sophic serenity,  the  imperfections  in  the  administration  of  jus- 
tice, and,  especially,  the  judicial  murder  of  his  friend  and 
master,  —  the  purest  and  wisest  man  of  the  ancient  world,  whose 
name  has  acquired  a  saintly  character  in  the  best  judgment 
of  succeeding  ages,  —  thrust  themselves  upon  his  attention, 
and  made  him  look  elsewhere  for  a  model  commonwealth. 
I  think  that  his  experience  with  Dionysius  could  not  have 
made  him  in  love  with  despotism.  Indeed,  the  searching  ex- 
posure of  the  wickedness  and  misery  belonging  to  the  con- 
dition of  the  tyrant,  which  we  find  in  that  admirable  dia- 
logue, the  Gorgias,  perhaps  owes  some  of  its  point  and  power 
to  personal  recollections.  Tyranny  and  democracy  were, 
therefore,  out  of  the  question.  There  remained  the  Spartan 
form  of  government  and  the  institutions  of  Lycurgus,  for  which 
it  is  evident  that  Plato  had  a  theoretical  preference.  The 
characteristics  of  those  institutions  which  attracted  his  inter- 
est were  the  apparent  order  and  system  with  which  every 
class  in  the  state  performed  its  functions,  and  every  individual 
filled  his  allotted  place.  What  he  would  have  thought  of  them 
had  he  lived  near  Sparta,  —  had  the  Academy  been  on  the 
banks  of  the  Eurotas,  instead  of  the  Cephissus,  —  it  is  not  easy 
to  conjecture ;  but  it  is  one  thing  to  admire  the  working  of 
a  machine  at  a  safe  distance,  and  quite  another  to  have  an  arm 
or  a  leg  caught  in  a  band  or  crushed  between  the  wheels. 
The  evils  of  the  Athenian  democracy  were  near  at  hand,  and 
real ;  the  evils  of  the  Spartan  Constitution  were  at  a  distance  ; 
while  the  discipline  and  regularity  were  obvious  to  every  be- 
holder, and  made  themselves  felt  in  every  martial  enterprise. 
At  all  events,  the  polity  delineated  in  Plato's  ideal  common- 
wealth has  much  more  :>f  the  Spartan  than  of  the  Athenian 
spirit  in  it.  Did  the  illustrious  author  incorporate  in  it  either 
the  Helot  system  of  Sparta,  or  the  milder  system  of  Athenian 


36  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

bondage  ?  Of  the  general  merits  of  the  work  I  have  nothing 
to  say  now ;  I  wish  only  to  show  how  the  sage  of  the  Academy 
disposed  of  an  institution  universal  in  the  Grecian  world, 
when,  framing  a  purely  ideal  republic,  —  such  a  one  as  he 
conceived  to  be  the  best  organization  of  society,  could  society 
be  made  over  again,  —  he  had  everything  in  his  own  way. 

For  some  reason,  he  does  not  introduce  slavery  here  under 
its  own  name ;  but  he  founds  his  scheme  upon  the  analogy  be- 
tween the  individual  man  and  the  state,  —  the  perfect  man  and 
the  perfect  state.  The  parts  of  the  ideal  republic  are,  first,  the 
fiovXevTi/cov,  the  counselling  order ;  secondly,  the  eiriKovpiKov, 
the  supporting  order ;  and,  thirdly,  the  XP7lliiaTI'(rTt'KOV>  or  the 
order  devoted  to  gain ;  —  that  is,  the  three  orders  constituting 
the  state  are  to  be  counsellors,  whose  business  it  is  to  meditate 
and  decide  on  what  is  for  the  good  of  the  whole  ;  guards,  or 
defenders,  whose  function  it  is  to  maintain  and  protect  the 
state  with  military  power ;  and  workers,  whose  duty  it  is  to 
furnish  by  their  labors  the  means  of  living  to  all.  The  first 
class  —  the  men  of  intellect  —  are  to  govern  the  state  ;  the 
second,  the  men  of  courage,  are  to  defend  it ;  of  the  third, 
those  who  have  neither  intellect  nor  courage,  but  only  the 
lowest  qualities,  —  the  mere  multitude,  the  men  fit  for  noth- 
ing but  physical  labor,  —  are  to  cultivate  the  earth  and  to  prac- 
tise the  handicrafts ;  those  whose  physical  powers  are  least  ade- 
quate to  these  tasks  are  to  sit  in  the  market-place,  and  carry 
on  the  system  of  trade  ;  while  another  division  are  to  engage 
in  commerce  of  a  larger  kind  by  land  and  by  sea.  From  the 
products  of  these  branches  of  labor,  the  governors  and  protec- 
tors are  to  be  supported.  It  is  for  the  good  of  the  state  that 
these  classes  should  be  perpetually  distinct,  and  that  their  sev- 
eral functions  should  become  a  part  of  their  nature,  transmis- 
sible by  descent.  Especially  are  the  members  of  the  lowest 
<*lass  to  be  forever  separated  from  the  governing  and  protecting 
classes.  Yet  the  possession  of  the  qualities  that  fit  men  for 
these  several  positions  is  an  indispensable  requisite  to  their  con- 
tinuing to  hold  them  ;  but  he  supposed  that  in  most  cases  the 


PLATO  AND   ARISTOTLE   ON   SLAVERY.  37 

tnesus  employed  would  secure  the  permanent  possession  of 
them.  Sometimes  it  might  happen  otherwise.  In  the  course 
cf  generations,  one  of  the  governing  order  might  fall  below  the 
qualifications  for  his  condition,  or  one  of  the  order  of  laborers 
might  rise  above  the  level  of  his.  Then,  what  is  to  be  done  ? 
"  You,  who  are  members  of  the  state,"  says  Plato,  in  the 
person  of  Socrates,  "  are  all  brethren,  but  the  god  who 
made  you  mingled  gold  at  their  birth  in  the  composition 
of  those  who  were  to  govern,  and  for  this  reason  they  are  the 
most  honorable ;  silver  in  those  who  are  to  protect  and  de- 
fend ;  iron  and  brass  in  the  tillers  of  the  earth,  and  other  hand- 
laborers.  As  you  are  all  of  the  same  kith  and  kin,  you  will, 
for  the  most  part,  have  offspring  who  will  resemble  yourselves. 
But  sometimes  silver  may  be  born  of  gold,  and  gold  of 
silver,  and  so  of  the  other  metals.  God  then  commands  the 
rulers  first  and  foremost  that  they  show  themselves  good  guard- 
ians in  nothing  so  much  as  in  the  care  of  offspring,  and  in 
observing  what  has  been  mingled  in  their  souls.  If  their  own 
children  have  a  portion  of  brass  or  iron,  they  must  by  no  means 
be  moved  by  pity,  but,  assigning  to  them  the  rank  belonging  to 
their  nature,  thrust  them  out  among  the  artisans  or  farmers ; 
and  if,  on  the  other  hand,  one  of  these  be  born  with  gold  or 
silver  in  his  soul,  they  must  duly  honor  him  by  raising  him  to 
the  rank  of  warrior  or  ruler  ;  since  there  is  an  oracle  that  the 
state  shall  perish  when  brass  or  iron  shall  govern  or  protect  it." 
There  is  something  quite  noticeable  in  this  passage.  1.  All 
the  orders  of  the  state  are  supposed  to  work  harmoniously 
ogether.  2.  Each  member  of  every  order  is  supposed  to 
have  his  just  rights  meted  out  to  him,  —  duties  and  rights  be- 
ing correlative.  3.  All  the  members  of  all  the  orders  of  the 
state  are  addressed  as  brethren,  —  a  remarkable  expression. 
4.  The  name  and  the  system  of  slavery,  as  they  existed  in  every 
Greek  commonwealth,  are  excluded  from  this  ideal  state.  From 
this  circumstance  it  is  fair  to'  infer,  as  Wallon  does,  that  Plato 
meant  to  say,  that,  if  he  could  organize  human  society  accord- 
ing to  his  views  of  a  perfect  commonwealth,  he  would  exclude 


88  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

slaves  as  property,  but  would  accomplish  the  industrial  ob- 
jects secured  to  actual  societies  through  that  institution  by  the 
labor  of  a  rigidly  organized  body  of  freemen,  not-fitted  to  take 
part  in  the  functions  of  government,  and  possessing  only  the 
faculty  of  labor ;  yet  not  so  absolutely  fixed  that  any  mem- 
ber of  this  order,  showing  natural  aptitudes  above  his  rank, 
might  not  ascend  to  the  more  elevated  classes.  But  we  cannot 
infer,  I  think,  that  Plato  positively  disapproved  of  the  existing 
institution,  or  that  he  saw  any  really  practicable  mode  of  dis- 
pensing with  it  in  existing  Hellenic  societies.  I  do  not  speak 
here  of  objections,  both  theoretical  and  practical,  which  would 
be  fatal  to  Plato's  republic,  if  looked  upon  as  a  serious  plan 
for  reforming  political  institutions.  I  am  only  drawing  out 
from  the  philosopher  his  idea  of  what  would  be  desirable,  on 
this  particular  head,  in  a  state  of  society  which  he  could  con- 
ceive of,  but  might  never  hope  to  realize. 

In  a  striking  passage  of  Book  Fifth,  one  of  the  interlocu- 
tors in  the  dialogue  says,  in  speaking  of  war  and  its  ordinary 
results :  "  First,  concerning  enslavement,  does  it  appear  to  you 
just  that.  Greeks  should  enslave  Greek  cities  ?  or  that  they 
should  do  their  best  even  to  prevent  others  from  doing  so,  and 
accustom  them  to  spare  the  Greek  race,  guarding  it  against  be- 
ing enslaved  by  the  barbarians  ?  "  "  Absolutely  and  entirely, 
it  is  best  to  spare  them."  "  And  not  to  possess  Greek  slaves 
themselves,  and  to  advise  the  other  Greeks  so  too  ?  "  "  Cer- 
tainly they  would  then  turn  more  to  the  barbarians,  and  abstain 
from  one  another."  Here  the  non-enslavement  of  Greeks  is 
recommended,  but  rather  from  motives  of  prudence  than  from 
any  fundamental  objection  to  slavery  as  such.  Wallon  is  mis- 
taken in  saying  that  Plato  recognizes  the  natural  injustice  of 
this  destiny. 

We  shall  come  nearer  to  Plato's  views  of  the  then  existing 
state  of  things  by  examining  his  "  Laws."  In  this  work  a 
system  of  institutions,  conceivable  as  introduced  into  an  actua\ 
state,  which  was  to  be  reorganized  after  having  been  depopu- 
lated,   is   carefully    unfolded.     In    speaking   about   househol 


fLATO  AND   ARISTOTLE   ON   SLAVERY.  39 

arrangements,  after  some  very  admirable  instructions  for  the 
formation  of  families,  handing  down  the  lamp  of  life  to  suc- 
cessive generations,  and  serving  the  gods  according  to  the 
laws,  the  author  takes  up  the  subject  of  slavery  at  some 
length.  "As  to  other  matters,"  says  he,  "they  are  difficult 
neither  to  understand  nor  to  procure  ;  but  the  subject  of  slaves 
is  wholly  perplexing The  Helotism  of  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians gives  occasion  to  the  greatest  question  and  doubt,  some 
naintaining  that  it  is  a  good  thing,  and  others  that  it  is  a 
rery  bad  one.  In  other  forms  of  slavery,  the  embarrassment 
•s  less.  Now,  looking  at  all  this,  what  are  we  to  do  with 
regard  to  the  possession  of  slaves?  We  should  all  agree  that 
it  is  necessary  to  have  slaves  as  kindly  disposed  and  as  good 
.is  possible  ;  for  many  slaves  have  proved  better  than  sons  and 
brothers,  and  have  saved  the  lives,  property,  and  families  of 
their  masters.  These  things  are  told,  as  we  know,  of  slaves. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  sometimes  said  that  there  is 
nothing  healthy  in  the  slavish  soul,  and  that  a  man  of  sense 
must  never  trust  one  of  the  race.  As  the  wisest  of  our 
poets  has  said,  — 

•  Of  half  his  mind  far-seeing  Zeus  deprives 
The  man  on  whom  the  day  of  slavery  falls.' 

With  such  different  views,  some  place  no  trust  in  the  race  of 
slaves,  and  render  their  souls,  not  threefold,  but  many  times 
more  slavish,  by  scourging  them  with  goads  and  lashes,  as  if 
they  were  wild  beasts ;  and  others  treat  them  in  just  the  oppo- 
site manner.  Man  is  a  creature  not  easily  adapted  to  these 
distinctions  of  slave  and  freeman  and  master.  The  slave  is  in- 
deed a  troublesome  possession,  as  has  been  proved  many  a  time 
by  facts,  as  in  the  frequent,  even  customary,  revolts  of  the 
Messenians,  and  all  the  evils  that  happen  in  the  case  of  cities 
possessing  many  slaves  speaking  one  language Consider- 
ing all  these  facts,  a  man  might  well  doubt  what  course  it  were 
best  for  him  to  take.  Two  devices  alone  remain, — to  see  that 
those  who  are  expected  to  submit  easily  to  servitude  should  as 
far  as  possible  not  be  of  the  same  country  nor  of  the  same 


40  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECR 

language ;  and  next,  to  treat  them  well,  and  hold  them  in  re* 
spect,  not  merely  for  their  own  sake,  but  for  the  good  of  the 
masters  themselves.  And  the  proper  treatment  of  such  persons 
is  not  to  behave  with  insolence  towards  them,  but  to  be  more 
careful  not  to  wrong  them  than  not  to  wrong  one's  equals. 
For  he  shows  strikingly  that  he  truly  and  not  fictitiously  rever- 
ences justice,  and  really  hates  injustice,  who  commits  no  wrong 
upon  those  whom  he  can  easily  injure.  He,  then,  who  has  no 
stain  of  injustice  and  unholiness  with  respect  to  the  manners 
and  conduct  of  slaves,  will  be  the  fittest  to  sow  the  seeds  of 
virtue.  And  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  despot,  or  the  ty- 
rant, or  any  one  who  exercises  irresponsible  power  over  those 
weaker  than  himself.  Yet  it  is  necessary  to  chastise  slaves, 
and  not  to  make  them  put  on  airs  by  admonishing  them  as  if 
they  were  freemen.  Every  address  to  a  slave  should  be  al- 
most a  command.  There  should  be  no  jesting  with  slaves, 
male  or  female,  —  a  habit  which  some  persons  very  foolishly 
like  to  indulge  in,  thus  making  it  more  difficult  for  their  slaves 
to  be  governed,  and  for  themselves  to  govern." 

From  this  passage  it  is  evident,  first,  that  Plato  accepted  slav- 
ery as  inevitable,  very  much  on  the  principle  of  Metrodorus, — 
that  it  is  an  indispensably  necessary  institution,  though  a  disa- 
greeable necessity ;  secondly,  that  he,  in  common  with  his  coun- 
trymen in  general,  felt  the  dangers  of  the  institution  in  some 
of  its  forms;  and  thirdly,  that  he  saw  no  practicable  method  of 
averting  those  dangers,  except  by  devising  measures  to  prevent 
an  easy  combination  among  the  slaves,  and  training  them  by 
kindness  and  respect  to  identify  their  interests  with  those  of 
their  masters,  and  thus  willingly  to  submit  to  the  conditions  of 
their  lot.  I  find  in  Plato  no  traces  of  the  idea  that  a  general 
abolition  of  the  system  as  established  from  the  earliest  times 
would  be  possible  or  desirable. 

Aristotle  was  the  disciple  of  Plato ;  but  he  differed  from  him 
in  many  respects,  both  as  to  philosophical  and  political  views. 
He  subjected  existing  facts  to  a  searching  scrutiny,  and  drew 
his  principles  from  large  inductions.     He  examined  constitu- 


PLATO  AND  ARISTOTLE   ON   SLAVERY.  41 

tions,  epic  poems,  and  tragedies,  as  he  did  the  soul  of  man,  or 
the  structure  of  a  fish  or  a  quadruped.  His  aim  was  to  as- 
certain the  central  fact  or  principle,  to  lay  out  in  order  the  con- 
stituent elements,  and  to  determine  the  exact  nature  of  things. 
Like  Plato,  he  connected  politics  with  ethics;  but  he  main- 
tained with  more  distinctness  than  Plato  did,  that  it  is  the 
duty  of  the  legislator  to  make  the  whole  state  happy,  by  com- 
bining the  greatest  possible  number  of  advantages,  whether  ex- 
ternal or  intellectual.  The  best  state  is  that  in  which  the 
citizen  can  secure  to  himself  the  largest  amount  of  happiness 
by  the  practice  of  virtue.  He  wrote  two  works,  which  deal 
with  the  subject  before  us ;  —  the  Politeiai,  in  which  he  ex- 
amined the  existing  constitutions,  and  which  is  lost ;  and  the 
Politica,  in  which  he  gives  his  own  ideas  of  what  a  state  should 
be,  founding  them,  however,  not,  like  Plato,  upon  an  ideal 
conception,  but  upon  the  facts  of  political  life,  as  developed  in 
human  societies.  There  is  a  third  work,  the  GEconomica,  which 
bears  upon  some  parts  of  the  general  subject.  One  of  the 
conclusions  he  draws  is,  that,  in  the  best  regulated  state,  the 
citizens  who  are  to  be  just  men,  that  is,  men  performing  all 
the  duties  belonging  to  citizenship,  must  be  free  from  all  the 
cares  of  handicraft  and  trade,  for  a  life  devoted  to  such  pursuits 
is  unfavorable  to  virtue ;  nor  should  they  be  farmers,  for  lei- 
sure is  an  indispensable  condition  to  the  generation  of  virtue 
and  to  political  activity.  How  is  this  leisure  to  be  secured  to 
the  favored  citizens  ?  The  state  is  founded  upon  the  family ; 
and  the  constituent  elements  of  the  family  are  man,  woman, 
and  slave.  Without  either  element,  social  and  political  man 
ceases  to  exist,  at  least  in  his  perfection.  Here,  then,  is  the 
germ  of  the  system  ;  and  this  germ  is  furnished  by  nature. 
The  relation  of  the  slave  to  the  master  is  like  the  relation  of 
the  body  to  the  soul,  whence  the  slave  is  called  a  body,  <ra>fia ; 
he  is  his  master's  body,  but  detached  from  him ;  the  master  is 
the  master  only  of  the  slave,  but  is  not  his ;  the  slave  is  not 
only  the  slave  of  his  master,  but  is  wholly  his.  The  natural 
ruler  and  the  natural  subject  must  be  united  for  their  common 


42  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS  OF   GREECE. 

safety.  That  which  can  foresee  by  the  intellect  is  the  natural 
rnler  and  master ;  that  which  can  render  bodily  service  is  the 
natural  subject  and  slave ;  and  man  is  by  nature  a  political 
animal.  There  are  some,  he  admits,  who  affirm  that  to  be  a 
master  is  against  nature,  —  that  the  slave  and  the  freeman  ex- 
ist by  law,  but  differ  in  no  respect  by  nature ;  wherefore  the 
relation  is  not  just,  because  it  comes  of  violence.  He  merely 
states  this  opinion  as  a  fact,  without  attempting  a  direct  an- 
swer. In  the  economy  of  a  family,  instruments  or  organs  are 
required ;  and  of  these  there  are  two  kinds,  the  inanimate  and 
the  animate,  as  to  the  pilot  the  rudder  is  the  inanimate  organ, 
and  the  man  on  the  look-out  the  animate.  The  slave  is  an 
animate  organ,  and  indeed  the  first  of  organs.  But  if  every 
organ,  either  commanded  or  foreknowing,  could  perform  its 
proper  office,  —  as  did  the  works  of  Daedalus,  and  the  tripods 
of  Hephaestus  which  the  poet  describes  as  moving  of  themselves 
into  the  assembly  of  the  gods,  —  if  the  shuttle  could  thus  weave 
and  the  quill  could  thus  play  the  lyre,  the  architect  would 
want  no  servants,  the  master  would  need  no  slaves.  Thus  we 
see  the  nature  of  the  slave  and  his  capacity.  He  who  by  na- 
ture is  not  his  own,  but  another's,  and  is  yet  a  man, —  he  is  by 
nature  a  slave ;  and  that  man  is  another's,  who  is  a  piece  of 
property,  being  a  man.  But  whether  there  really  is  such  a 
person  by  nature  or  not,  whether  it  is  better,  whether  it  is  just, 
that  one  should  be  slave  of  another,  or  whether  all  slavery  is 
contrary  to  nature,  admits  of  question. 

To  Aristotle  slavery  appears  necessary,  expedient,  and 
founded  on  a  principle  of  subordination  running  through  all 
the  orders  of  nature,  so  that  some,  from  the  hour  of  birth,  are 
marked  out  for  ruling,  some  for  obeying.  Those  who  are  in- 
ferior to  others,  as  the  body  is  inferior  to  the  soul,  are  slaves 
by  nature,  and  it  is  for  their  good  to  be  thus  governed.  Such 
persons  are  those  whose  function  is  the  use  of  the  body,  and 
this  is  the  best  thing  to  be  had  of  them.  Nature  intends  to 
make  the  bodies  of  slaves  and  freemen  different  from  each 
other;  —  the  former  strong,  for  necessary  use;  the  latter  erect, 


PLA/O   AND   ARISTOTLE   ON   SLAVERY.  43 

useless  lor  menial  labors,  but  useful  for  civil  life.     Sometimes, 

however,   the   contrary  happens If  this  be  true  of  the 

body,  it  is  still  more  just  to  draw  the  distinction  with  respect 
to  the  soul,  although  it  is  not  so  easy  to  see  the  beauty  of  the 
soul  as  to  see  that  of  the  body.  Yet  it  is  clear  that  some  men 
are  freemen  by  nature,  and  others  are  slaves,  and  to  the  latter 
slavery  is  beneficial  and  just. 

Again,  it  is  asked  whether  a  slave  can  possess  any  virtues 
except  the  instrumental  and  servile,  —  any  traits  nobler  than 
these,  —  such  as  temperance,  fortitude,  justice,  and  the  like. 
This  question  brings  the  inquirer  into  difficulties  which  are 
very  fairly  stated  by  Aristotle.  If  they  possess  these  virtues, 
wherein  will  they  differ  from  freemen  ?  Yet,  as  they  are  men, 
and  participate  in  reason,  it  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  they  may 
not  possess  them. 

Another  puzzling  question  is,  how  far  might  makes  right. 
Victory  seems  to  imply  some  superior  ability.  Does  it  prove 
the  justice  of  the  cause  ?  No  one  will  say  that  the  man  who 
is  undeservedly  enslaved  is  a  slave,  (and  he  might  have  illus- 
trated this  proposition  by  the  case  of  Plato).  Men  of  the 
noblest  families  might  happen  to  be  slaves,  and  the  descend- 
ants of  slaves,  if  they  or  their  ancestors  have  been  taken  pris- 
oners of  war  and  sold.  But  they  are  not  slaves,  —  this  name 
must  be  limited  to  those  who  are  slaves  by  nature.  Men  of 
noble  descent  are  not  only  so  regarded  in  their  own  country, 
but  everywhere.     Thus  Helen,  in  Theodectes,  says:  — 

"  Who  dares  reproach  me  with  the  name  of  slave, 
When  from  immortal  gods,  on  either  side, 
I  draw  my  lineage  1 " 

Again,  Aristotle  concludes  that  some  persons  are  slaves  and 
others  freemen  by  the  ordinance  of  nature ;  and  that  there 
may  exist  a  mutual  utility  and  friendship  between  the  master 
and  the  slave,  when  they  are  placed  by  nature  in  that  relation 
to  each  other ;  while  the  contrary  is  the  case  with  those  whn 
are  reduced  to  slavery  by  custom  or  by  conquest. 

Our  author  then  treats  of  the   knowledge   which  a  slave 


44  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

ought  to  possess,  inasmuch  as  one  kind  is  suitable  to  the  mas- 
ter and  another  to  the  slave.  At  Syracuse,  he  states,  there 
was  a  person  who,  for  a  stipulated  fee,  instructed  the  boys  in 
the  routine  of  a  household  slave.  The  knowledge  of  the 
master  is  how  properly  to  employ  his  slaves.  Not  that  this 
knowledge  contains  anything  great  or  lofty ;  but  what  a  slave 
ought  to  know  how  to  do,  the  master  should  know  how  to 
order.  Those  who  have  it  in  their  power  to  be  free  from  such 
toilsome  matters  employ  a  steward  for  this  business,  and  ap- 
ply themselves  to  public  affairs  or  philosophy. 

I  must  close  this  sketch  of  Aristotle's  views  on  slavery  by 
the  substance  of  a  passage  in  the  CEconomica,  —  a  brief 
treatise  which  contains  much  excellent  matter  upon  the  do- 
mestic relations.  Here,  as  in  the  Politica,  the  necessity  of 
having  slaves  is  assumed.  The  conduct  of  the  master  towards 
them,  it  is  said,  should  be  such  as  not  to  render  them  insolent 
or  negligent.  He  should  make  distinctions  among  them,  ac- 
cording to  their  capacities  and  qualities,  since,  as  other  men 
grow  worse  when  they  gain  nothing  by  being  better,  so  is  it 

with  slaves It  is  likewise  requisite  that  to  all  things  an 

end  should  be  set ;  it  is  therefore  both  right  and  expedient 
that  freedom  should  be  held  up  to  them  as  a  reward ;  for  they 
will  be  willing  to  labor  when  a  prize  and  a  definite  time  are 
proposed.  It  is  right  also  to  bind  them  as  hostages  by  their 
families ;  and  to  appoint  holidays  and  festivals  more  for  their 
sake  than  for  the  free,  since  the  free  possess  so  much  larger 
means  of  daily  enjoyment. 

I  have  thus  endeavored  to  present  to  you,  chiefly  in  his  own 
language,  the  opinions  of  the  most  sagacious  and  learned  writer 
of  antiquity  on  the  institution  of  slavery  among  the  Greeks. 
The  sum  of  the  matter,  according  to  him,  is :  —  1.  Slavery  is 
founded  on  natural  distinctions  ;  and  it  is  necessary  and  useful 
for  both  master  and  slave.  Yet  practically  it  exists  where 
no  such  distinction  can  be  found  ;  and  how  this  contradic- 
tion between  fact  and  theory  is  to  be  dealt  with,  he  does  not 
explain.      2.   The   slave,  though  an   article   of  property,  an 


SLAVERY   AND   CHRISTIANITY.  45 

wholly  his  master's,  is  yet  a  man,  and  is  to  be  treated  with 
justice  and  kindness.  3.  He  is  influenced  by  the  same  mo- 
tives as  affect  other  men,  and  therefore  the  highest  excellence 
of  character  and  conduct  can  be  produced  only  by  the  highest 
motive.  And  what,  according  to  Aristotle,  is  the  highest  mo- 
tive that  can  be  held  up  before  him  ?  Why,  freedom.  But, 
if  there  be  the  sharp  division  between  those  who  are  natu- 
rally slaves  and  those  who  are  naturally  masters,  which  his 
theory  implies,  and  which  is  the  justification  of  slavery,  how 
can  the  prospect  of  freedom  be  a  legitimate  motive  to  set 
before  the  man  who  was  born  to  be  a  slave,  and  whose  inter- 
ests are  bound  up  with  the  very  existence  of  the  relation  ? 
The  truth  is,  that  the  institution  was  there  as  a  long-established 
fact,  to  be  examined  like  any  other  fact;  but  it  had  elements 
of  perplexity  which  the  acute,  honest,  and  humane  genius  of 
Aristotle  could  not  reconcile  with  many  of  the  phenomena 
of  human  nature  that  he  witnessed  in  Hellenic  society,  and 
he  was  obliged  to  leave  the  theory  vitiated  by  contradictions, 
while  he  gave  practical  rules  conformable  to  his  own  sense 
of  justice,  and  inspired  by  his  calm  wisdom  and  serene  hu- 
manity. 

I  expressed  the  opinion,  in  the  first  Lecture,  that  there  is 
a  coincidence  between  the  spirit  of  Christianity  and  the  best 
teachings  of  Greek  philosophy.  In  my  judgment,  St.  Paul  on 
the  Hill  of  Mars  is  the  complement  to  Socrates  in  his  prison, 
to  Plato  in  the  Academy,  and  to  Aristotle  in  the  Lyceum. 
The  wisdom  of  the  Hellenic  sages  is  carried  out  and  perfected, 
its  shortcomings  are  made  good,  its  partial  truth  is  rounded 
and  completed,  by  the  deeper  wisdom,  the  holier  inspiration, 
the  broader  views  of  the  great  Christian  masters,  —  the  Apos- 
tles and  early  Fathers  of  the  Church.  The  humane  tenden- 
cies of  Grecian  philosophy  became  fundamental  principles  in 
the  philosophy  of  the  Son  of  God.  The  errors  of  the  Acad- 
emy and  the  Lyceum  were  corrected  under  the  heavenly  light 
of  the  Church.  Plato  maintained  that  God  had  made  all  the 
members  of  his  ideal  commonwealth  brethren ;  Paul  declared 


*6  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

that  God  had  made  the  whole  human  race  of  one  blood 
Plato  and  Aristotle  taught  that  the  master  should  treat  his 
slaves  kindly  ;  Paul  taught  Philemon,  and  through  him  every 
other  Greek  master,  that  he  must  receive  the  returning  fugi 
tive,  "  not  now  as  a  servant,  but  above  a  servant,  a  brothei 
beloved,"  —  receive  him  as  he  would  Paul  himself;  prom- 
ising at  the  same  time,  —  a  very  significant  fact,  —  that,  if 
Philemon  had  suffered  any  loss  through  Onesimus,  it  was  to 
be  put  to  his  Paul's,  account,  and  he,  Paul,  would  repay  it. 

On  one  most  important  point  bearing  upon  the  relation  of 
master  and  servant,  Christianity  corrected  an  error  of  Greek 
philosophy.  The  Greeks  regarded  certain  kinds  of  work  as 
servile,  requiring  a  servile  class  for  their  performance ;  yet 
more,  as  disgraceful,  requiring  therefore  a  dishonored,  a  con- 
temptible class.  But  the  Son  of  God  took  upon  himself  the 
humblest  form,  the  lowliest  offices,  and  thereby  exalted  all 
labor  to  a  divine  significance.  "Come  unto  me,"  said  he,  "all 
ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest. 
Take  my  yoke  upon  you  and  learn  of  me ;  for  I  am  meek  and 
lowly  of  heart,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls."  The 
influence  of  the  Beatitudes  and  of  St.  Paul's  expositions  of  the 
Christian  spirit  on  the  tone  of  feeling  in  Greece,  doubtless  coin- 
cided with  the  national  sentiment,  and  carried  it  forward  in  the 
same  general  direction  which  had  been  imparted  to  it  by  phi- 
losophy. It  did  not  attack  institutions  in  their  outward  forms ; 
but  it  strengthened  the  noble  and  generous  attributes  of  hu- 
manity within  those  forms.  It  assailed  no  established  rights, 
and  broke  no  laws ;  but  it  transmuted  the  violence  with  which 
those  rights  were  sometimes  enforced  into  gentleness  and  love. 
It  recognized  duties  on  both  sides  in  legal  relations ;  it  sanc- 
tioned and  justified  no  outrages  on  person  or  property,  no 
encroachment  even,  no  withholding  of  legal  dues. 

It  cannot  be  said  that  these  men  adopted  so  mild  a  course  be- 
cause they  feared  the  personal  consequences  of  stronger  meas- 
ures. Champions  of  Divine  truth,  taking  their  lives  in  their 
hands,  counting  tortures  and  death  as  naught  in  the  service  of 


SLAVERY    AND    CHRISTIANITY.  47 

Jieir  great  Master,  they  made  no  compromise  with  principle, 
they  sacrificed  nothing  to  the  world ;  but  they  dealt  with  all 
the  relations  of  man  to  man  in  the  way  which  they  knew  to 
be  wise,  and  right,  and  in  accordance  with  the  law  of  God. 
The  glimpses  and  intimations  of  truth  which  the  Hellenic 
sages  saw,  on  the  subject  we  have  been  discussing,  they  bright- 
ened into  the  perfect  day.  They  struck  at  the  root  of  war,  and 
of  all  other  systems  of  violence;  they  overthrew  the  pretexts 
for  international  prejudice  and  wrong ;  they  made  all  honest 
labor  honorable ;  they  thus  dried  up  the  sources  from  which 
the  bitter  stream  of  bondage  flowed.  They  established  prin- 
ciples which,  in  proportion  as  they  were  carried  out  in  the 
ancient  world,  removed  the  evils  which  the  philosophers  saw 
and  felt,  and  could  only  abate. 

It  is  not  in '  the  nature  of  social  life  to  undergo  radical 
changes  in  a  moment.  Christianity  had  a  struggle  of  cen- 
turies, before  its  outward  triumphs  raised  it  to  high  places  in 
the  world ;  and  its  struggle  to  gain  an  inward  triumph  over 
the  evil  passions  of  man  will  probably  last  as  long  as  the  earth 
shall  endure.  But  the  seed  was  sown  ;  the  plant  grew  and 
ripened  here  and  there ;  and  human  life  was  refreshed  by  the 
Divine  fruit.  The  Fathers  of  the  Church  faithfully  proclaimed 
the  doctrines  of  Christ  and  the  Apostles  upon  the  essential 
equality  of  man.  Justin  declared  that  the  sons  of  freemen  and 
the  sons  of  slaves  are  o/xoTifioi,  —  of  equal  honor.  St.  Basil, 
while  admitting  that  the  inferior  should  be  under  the  guidance 
of  the  superior,  yet  maintains  that  there  is  no  such  thing 
among  men  as  a  slave  by  nature.  St.  Chrysostom  is  equally 
emphatic.  All  these  teachers  inculcate,  indeed,  the  duties 
of  order,  obedience,  and  fidelity,  on  the  slaves ;  but  equally 
those  of  kindness,  gentleness,  respect  for  natural  rights,  and 
sympathy  as  for  brethren  in  Christ,  on  the  masters.  Gregory 
of  Nazianzus  expressed  himself  in  gnomic  verse  to  the  effect 
that  tyranny,  not  nature,  had  divided  the  rare  of  men  ;  that 
every  bad  man  is  a  slave,  every  good  man  is  free.  Greg- 
ory of  Nyssa  said,  that  the  Divine  seal  set  upon  the  brow  of 


48  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

our  first  parent  was  perpetuated  down  to  his  latest  descendant 
as  an  ineffaceable  mark,  since  man  is  in  all  ages  the  same 
being  to  that  Supreme  Power  which  has  neither  past  nor 
future.  These  views  the  Fathers  of  the  Church  maintained 
under  all  circumstances ;  but  they  did  not  find  it  their  duty  to 
attack  outward  forms.  The  revolution  they  sought  to  effect 
was  in  the  heart  of  man.  Where  the  heart  was  right,  all  that 
it  was  desirable  to  have  would  soon  follow.  They  held  slaves 
themselves,  because  the  ordinary  service  of  a  household  could 
hardly  bo  otherwise  supplied.  But  while  accepting  the  ex- 
ternal relation,  universal  in  those  times,  the  Church  acknowl- 
edged no  real  distinctions  save  in  the  qualities  of  the  soul. 

But  human  nature  is  not  easily  changed.  The  treatment 
of  slaves  was  the  frequent  subject  of  the  faithful  rebukes  of 
Chrysostom.  "  When  you  go  to  the  theatre  or  the  bath," 
says  he,  "  you  take  with  you  a  train  of  servants ;  but  you 
make  no  such  effort  to  bring  them  to  the  church,  where  they 
may  hear  the  word.  And  how  shall  the  slave  hear,  when  the 
master  is  attended  by  him  in  another  place  ?  "  The  characters 
of  the  slaves,  too,  as  drawn  by  the  Christian  Fathers,  are  much 
like  the  pictures  given  by  the  ancient  poets  ;  but  the  Christian 
father  boldly  states  the  causes,  while  the  old  poet  or  philos- 
opher only  hinted  at  them.  Says  St.  Chrysostom:  "It  is  a 
thing  generally  acknowledged,  that  slaves  are  lazy,  rebellious, 
unmanageable,  unfit  to  receive  instruction  in  virtue,  not  by 
the  vice  of  nature, —  God  forbid!  —  but  by  the  negligence  and 

misconduct  of  their  masters  in  regard  to  them As  their 

masters  require  only  service  at  their  hands,  they  tolerate  their 
disorders  on  this  condition,  and  thus  the  slave  falls  into  the 
depths  of  vice.  If  in  spite  of  the  active  oversight  of  a  father, 
a  mother,  a  teacher,  in  spite  of  the  influence  of  equals  and  of 
the  sentiment  of  birth,  we  have  such  difficulty  in  avoiding  the 
company  of  the  wicked,  how  must  it  be  with  those  who,  de- 
prived of  all  these  supports,  mingle  with  criminals,  or  with 
whom  they  please,  no  one  caring  what  friendships  they  form  \ 
f  his  is  the  reason  why  it  is  so  hard  for  slaves  to  be  good 


SLAVEKY   AND    CHRISTIANITY.  4JJ 

They  receive  no  instruction  abroad  or  at  home ;  they  have  no 
intercourse  with  educated  freemen,  who  attach  a  high  value  to 
public  opinion.  How  then  should  net  it  be  a  wonderful  thing 
to  find  a  slave  a  good  man  ?  " 

Once  more,  in  a  remarkable  passage,  touching  upon  the  con- 
clusion to  which  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  were  tending,  the 
eloquent  preacher  says :  "  What  need  of  so  many  slaves  ?  As 
in  other  things,  you  should  limit  yourself  to  the  necessary. 
And  what  is  the  necessity  here  ?  I  do  not  see  it.  A  master 
should  content  himself  with  a  single  slave  ;  or  rather,  one 
slave  should  be  enough  for  two  or  three  masters.  If  this 
appears  hard,  think  of  those  who  have  none,  and  are  better 
served ;  for  God  has  created  us  with  the  power  to  serve  our- 
selves and  others.  If  you  doubt,  listen  to  St.  Paul :  '  Mine 
own  hands  are  sufficient  to  serve  myself  and  others.'  Thus 
this  teacher  of  the  world,  worthy  of  heaven,  was  not  ashamed 
to  serve  so  many  thousand  men ;  and  you  would  think  your- 
self disgraced,  unless  you  were  followed  by  a  train  of  slaves, 

ignorant  that  it  is  this  which  disgraces  you It  is  not 

necessity  which  has  created  the  race  of  slaves ;  if  it  were,  a 
slave  would  have  been  created  with  Adam," — and  much  more 
to  the  same  effect.  I  think  that  among  the  early  Greek 
Fathers, —  the  able  and  eloquent  men  who  preached  the  Gospel 
in  Constantinople,  Antioch,  Ephesus,  Alexandria,  and  Tarsus, 
—  there  was  but  one  voice  upon  this  subject. 

As  the  Church  became  more  thoroughly  organized  under  the 
decrees  of  oecumenical  councils,  the  subjects  of  human  slavery, 
and  the  treatment  of  the  enslaved,  were  constantly  forced  upon 
its  attention ;  and  everywhere  the  equality  of  men  in  Christ, 
and  the  brotherhood  of  the  whole  human  race,  were  the  central 
ideas  embodied  in  decrees  and  ordinances  whose  object  was 
to  restrain  the  wanton  excesses  of  irresponsible  power,  and  to 
protect  the  bondsman.  Down  through  the  Middle  Ages,  dur- 
ing the  long  decline  of  the  Greek  race  under  the  Byzantine 
empire,  the  relation  still  existed;  and  now  again,  as  in  the 
earlier  classic  ages,  it  was  often  the  fate  of  the  best-born  and 


50  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE 

most  accomplished  to  be  seized  by  freebooters,  pirates,  or  rov- 
ing adventurers  on  the  Grecian  seas,  and  carried  into  hope- 
less captivity.  How  often  the  shores  of  Greece  were  desolated 
by  barbarians  engaged  in  this  merciless  traffic,  the  terrible 
history  of  those  centuries  of  gloom  and  darkness  may  tell  us. 
The  Church  still  spoke  in  the  same  voice,  although  ecclesiastics 
and  monks  were  often  the  owners  of  bondsmen. 

About  the  beginning  of  the  ninth  century,  there  died  at 
Constantinople  Theodorus  Studita,  abbot  of  the  monastery  of 
Studium  in  that  city,  who  left,  in  the  form  of  a  testament  for 
his  successor,  his  confession  of  faith,  and  a  series  of  practical 
directions,  one  of  which  thus  reads :  "  Thou  shalt  not  possess 
a  slave,  neither  for  thine  own  use,  nor  for  the  monastery,  nor 
for  the  field,  since  he  is  a  man  made  in  the  image  of  God. 
This,  like  marriage,  is  allowed  only  to  the  people  of  the  world." 
I  need  not  dwell  upon  these  times ;  the  picture  is  essentially 
the  same  through  the  ages  of  decline. 

At  length  the  capture  of  Constantinople  by  the  Turks,  in 
1453,  and  the  extension  of  their  conquest  over  Greece  in  the 
three  following  years,  reduced  all  alike  to  a  barbarous  servi- 
tude, some  of  the  forms  of  which  were  more  painful  than  any 
ancient  bondage  of  the  barbarian  to  the  Greek.  This  general 
enslavement  of  the  Hellenic  race  lasted  almost  four  hundred 
years,  —  a  long,  bitter,  and  degrading  lesson  for  those  whose 
ancestors  had  been  the  teachers  of  the  world.  The  yoke  was 
heavy,  the  agonies  of  servitude  entered  their  souls,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  no  hope  could  send  its  light  into  their  prison- 
house.  I  need  not  recount  the  circumstances  of  their  great 
deliverance,  —  the  heroic  deeds  and  dreadful  sufferings  through 
which  they  passed.  It  is  enough  to  state  one  fact  which  has  a 
bearing  upon  my  subject,  and  is  surely  not  discreditable  to  the 
Hellenic  race.  When  the  war  of  national  liberty  commenced 
n  Greece,  an  assembly  was  called  at  Epidaurus,  to  draw  up  a 
declaration  of  independence,  and  to  frame  a  provisional  govern- 
ment. Among  the  earliest  articles  of  the  Constitution  were 
one  for  the  universal  education  of  the  people,  and  another 


SLAVERY   AND   CHRISTIANITY.  51 

abolishing  slavery  forever.  And  when,  in  1843,  the  deputies 
at  Athens,  ten  years  after  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  Otho, 
framed  a  new  Constitution,  they  embodied  in  it  both  these 
principles,  declaring  that  slavery  shall  never  be  allowed  in  the 
kingdom,  and  that  the  bondsman,  of  whatever  race  or  nation- 
ality, becomes  free  the  moment  he  sets  his  foot  upon  the  soil 
of  Greece.  "  In  Greece,  man  is  neither  sold  nor  bought.  The 
bondsman  or  slave,  of  every  race  and  every  religion,  is  free  the 
moment  he  treads  on  Grecian  soil."  Thus  this  institution, 
which  outdates  Homer  and  the  heroic  age,  —  which  occupied 
the  thoughts  of  poets,  philosophers,  legislators,  saints,  and  mar- 
tyrs, from  the  beginning  of  political  society  and  the  dawn  of 
speculative  science,  —  under  which  the  Greeks  were  sometimes 
masters,  and  sometimes  slaves,  —  closed  its  melancholy  but 
tenacious  existence  only  in  our  day,  after  the  most  wonderful 
diversity  of  national  experience,  and  with  the  direct  influence 
of  Christianity  acting  upon  it  for  eighteen  centuries. 


LECTURE    IV. 

THE   EAELY   TYRANNIES.  —  THE    SPARTAN   CONSTITUTION 

In  the  heroic  constitutions  we  trace  the  germs  of  the  free  and 
varied  political  forms  in  which  the  Grecian  states  abounded 
through  the  historical  ages.  Besides  the  head  of  the  state,  we 
uniformly  find  a  body  of  counsellors  and  a  popular  assembly ; 
and  through  all  the  forms  of  government,  which  gave  Aristotle 
so  large  a  field  of  investigation  and  such  a  copious  collection  of 
tacts  from  which  to  draw  his  inductions,  we  find,  in  one  shape 
or  another,  under  one  name  or  another,  magistrates  or  counsel- 
lors and  members  of  the  popular  body  concurrently  working  to 
carry  out,  by  legal  enactment,  the  collective  will  of  the  people. 
In  the  colonies  which  were  established  in  the  period  following 
the  Trojan  war,  and  for  centuries  afterward,  the  institutions 
of  the  mother  cities  —  the  fArjTpoiroXei^  —  were  copied,  but 
with  modifications  to  adapt  them  to  the  varied  wants  of  co- 
lonial society.  These  colonies  extended  along  the  western 
and  southern  coasts  of  Asia  Minor,  and  to  the  shores  of  the 
Euxine  Sea ;  along  the  coasts  of  Thrace  and  Macedonia ; 
over  the  -3£gean  Islands ;  to  the  west  as  far  as  Sicily ;  and 
over  a  large  portion  of  Southern  Italy,  called  from  this  circum- 
stance Magna  Grsecia,  —  Great  Greece,  —  as  being  more  ex- 
tensive than  the  mother  country.  The  colonies  on  the  coast 
of  Asia  Minor  arranged  themselves  in  geographical  order,  — 
the  jEolian  in  the  north,  the  Ionian  in  the  centre,  and  the 
Dorian  in  the  south,  —  each  race  maintaining  its  peculiarities  of 
language  and  of  political  forms,  though  on  this  latter  point  oui 
information  is  scanty.  The  colonies  of  Sicily  were  mostly 
Dorian ;  those  of  Italy,  Dorian  and  iEolian.     The  Ionians  of 


THE  EARLY  TYRANNIES.  53 

Asia  Minor  were  the  first  to  excel  in  poetry  and  art.  To 
them  belongs  the  imperishable  glory  of  Homer  and  epic 
poetry.  The  JEolians  followed,  and  the  lyrical  school  of  Les- 
bos, and  the  impassioned  strains  of  Sappho's  muse,  constituted 
their  especial  renown.  The  Dorians,  as  was  to  be  expected 
of  their  peculiar  genius,  came  last  into  the  field  of  letters, 
though  from  early  times  they  possessed  a  vigorous  martial  min- 
strelsy. 

In  some  of  the  colonies  the  descendants  of  the  old  .leroic 
families  were  leaders  and  founders.  In  others,  new  men  came 
up  from  the  people.  In  general  there  were  many  changes, 
and  a  new  order  of  things  arose.  The  states  of  which  we 
have  the  best  information  are  Sparta  and  Athens,  —  Sparta, 
the  most  conspicuous  representative  of  the  Dorian,  and  Athens, 
the  crowning  flower  of  the  Ionian  race.  It  is  probable  that 
the  other  Dorian  and  Ionian  states  framed  their  institutions 
generally  upon  the  metropolitan  models. 

Among  the  most  remarkable  changes  that  succeeded  the 
downfall  of  the  heroic  monarchies  were  the  rise  and  establish- 
ment of  what  the  Greeks  called  tyrannies.  This  word  did 
not  originally  refer  to  the  manner  of  exercising  power,  but  to 
the  nature  of  the  office  and  the  mode  of  gaining  it.  To  the 
Greek  mind,  the  source  of  power  was  the  popular  will ;  and 
the  object  of  its  exercise  was  the  benefit  of  the  body  politic. 
Fiom  what  has  been  said  in  previous  Lectures,  it  will  of 
course  be  understood  that  the  servile  classes  enjoyed  the 
benefit  of  these  principles  but  imperfectly,  if  at  all ;  and  when 
we  speak  of  the  freedom  which  the  constitutions  of  Greece 
generally  developed,  and  the  admirable  results  of  the  Greek 
polity,  a  large  reservation  on  this  head  must  always  be  made. 
We  say,  then,  that  the  popular  will  was  the  source  and  the 
people's  good  was  the  aim  of  government  in  the  Hellenic 
conception  of  civil  society,  whether  under  the  Dorian  or  the 
Ionian  system.  Any  government  that  established  itself  with- 
out the  co-operation  of  these  principles,  and  refused  to  ac- 
knowledge its  accountability  to  the  people,  was,  in  the  Greek 


5-4  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

sense  of  the  word,  a  tyranny,  no  matter  how  wisely  or  hu« 
manely  it  might  be  administered.  When  the  old  hereditary 
rule  lost  its  hold  upon  men's  minds,  either  by  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  royal  families,  by  violent  revolutions,  or  by  pro- 
gress in  political  ideas,  a  free  opportunity  was  thrown  open  for 
bold  and  aspiring  men,  who  could  command  the  support  of 
powerful  parties  by  their  wealth,  or  ingratiate  themselves  by 
an  insinuating  address,  to  usurp  the  places  once  held  by  the 
champions  of  the  Trojan  war  or  their  descendants.  These 
men  often  found,  in  the  confusion  of  changing  institutions,  no 
great  difficulty  in  accomplishing  their  purposes ;  and  some- 
times they  secured  their  families  in  power  for  several  genera- 
tions. Their  period  commences  in  the  seventh  century  before 
Christ,  and  continues  about  two  hundred  years.  They  were, 
therefore,  contemporaneous,  or  nearly  so,  with  the  great  legis- 
lators, who  stand  as  the  impersonations  of  the  legal,  as  con- 
trasted with  the  tyrannical  principle. 

The  oldest  tyranny  was  that  established  at  Sicyon,  by 
Orthagoras,  said  to  have  been  originally  a  cook.  His  de- 
scendants —  the  Orthagoridse  —  governed  the  city  for  about  a 
hundred  years ;  and  their  rule  is  praised  by  Aristotle  for  its 
mildness.  It  ended  with  Cleisthenes,  whose  daughter,  Agariste, 
married  Megacles  the  Athenian,  and  became  the  mother  of  the 
Cleisthenes  so  distinguished  as  a  popular  leader  in  Athens.  In 
the  third  century  before  Christ,  Sicyon  became  again  subject  to 
a  tyranny.  In  the  seventh  century  B.  C,  the  ancient  house  of 
the  Bacchiadae  —  the  kings  of  Corinth  —  was  overthrown  by 
Cypselus.  This  prince  belonged,  by  his  mother's  side  only,  to 
the  old  Doric  nobility  of  Corinth.  An  oracle  had  declared  that 
he  would  be  dangerous  to  the  reigning  family ;  and  his  life  being 
threatened,  he  was  saved  by  being  concealed  in  a  chest,  from 
which  circumstance  he  received  his  name.  This  chest  was  a 
splendid  work  of  art,  and  an  heirloom  in  the  family,  who  after- 
wards consecrated  it  at  Olympia.  Pausanias  saw  it  there 
eight  hundred  years  later,  and  has  given  a  minute  description 
of  it.     Cypselus  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Periander,  an  able 


THE  EARLY   TYRANNIES.  55 

ruler  and  a  patron  of  literature.  The  family  of  the  Cypselidae 
remained  in  power  about  eighty  years.  Similar  tyrannies  were 
established  in  Epidaurus,  Megara,  Pisa,  Phlius,  Chalcis,  also 
in  some  of  the  cities  of  Asia  Minor,  and  in  Samos,  of  whose 
tyrants  Polycrates  was  the  most  renowned.  At  Athens,  a 
tyranny,  under  Peisistratus,  followed  the  legislation  of  Solon, 
and  lasted,  with  intervals,  until  the  expulsion  of  Hippias.  The 
tyranny  in  Sicily  was  the  longest  and  the  most  successful,  be- 
ginning with  Phalaris  of  Agrigentum,  and  continuing  through 
the  reigns  of  the  Syracusan  kings. 

The  tyrants  sometimes  rose  to  power  by  the  aid  of  the 
people,  who  preferred  one  ruler  to  the  oppressions  of  the 
nobles.  Sometimes  they  gathered  around  themselves  a  body 
of  foreign  mercenaries,  and  seized  the  power  by  force.  The 
nature  of  their  government  depended  in  both  cases  on  the  per- 
sonal character  of  the  tyrant.  Many  of  them  were  enlightened 
men,  who  collected  poets  and  philosophers  at  their  courts,  and 
swayed  the  sceptre  with  mildness  and  clemency.  But  arbi- 
trary and  irresponsible  power  was  not  in  harmony  with  the 
genius  of  the  Hellenic  people,  and  the  dignity  and  splendor  of 
the  courts  of  most  of  these  princes  were  short-lived.  They 
fill,  however,  a  remarkable  chapter  in  the  history  of  Greece. 

The  earliest  legislation  appears  to  have  been  that  of  Crete ; 
but  in  the  mass  of  fable  and  the  embellishments  of  poetry,  of 
which  that  beautiful  island  was  from  the  oldest  times  the 
centre,  it  is  impossible  to  make  out  a  clear  and  intelligible 
account  of  the  Cretan  system.  There  probably  was  a  king 
named  Minos.  He  was  the  first,  according  to  Thucydides,  to 
establish  an  important  naval  power,  and  to  clear  the  Eastern 
seas  of  pirates.  The  tradition  which  traces  Cretan  insti- 
tutions back  to  Minos  may  be  accepted  as  historically  true ; 
and  the  Cretans  would  seem  to  have  been  of  Dorian  origin,  by 
the  resemblance  of  their  laws  to  those  of  Lycurgus.  Minos 
was  so  renowned  for  his  justice,  that  he  became,  with  Rhada- 
manthus,  one  of  the  judges  of  the  lower  world.  The  early 
kings  of  Crete  were  succeeded  by  boards  of  ten  magistrates. 


56  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

called  Cosmioi, — chosen  from  certain  families, —  who,  along 
with  other  functions,  bore  the  chief  command  in  war.  A  coun- 
cil or  senate  of  thirty  (yepovaia)  held  the  supreme  executive 
and  judicial  power,  without  written  laws  and  free  from  ac- 
countability. The  members  of  this  body  were  taken  from  those 
Cosmioi  who  had  honorably  discharged  the  duties  of  their  office. 
There  was,  according  to  Aristotle,  an  ecclesia  or  general  as- 
sembly, in  which  all  were  allowed  to  participate  ;  but  this 
assembly  had  no  other  power  than  to  sanction,  without  dis- 
cussion, the  decrees  of  the  senators  and  Cosmioi.  In  the  ar- 
rangements of  private  life,  there  was  also  a  resemblance  to 
those  of  Sparta.  Agriculture  and  the  industrial  arts  were 
despised,  and  left  wholly  to  the  servile  classes.  Youths  and 
men  lived  at  public  tables,  the  expense  of  which  was  defrayed 
partly  by  the  payment  of  one  tenth  of  his  income  by  each 
citizen,  and  partly  by  contributions  from  the  government ;  and 
these  contributions  were  drawn  in  part  from  the  public  lands, 
and  in  part  from  the  revenues  derived  from  the  serfs.  But  the 
land  was  not  equally  divided  among  the  citizens,  as  it  osten- 
sibly was  in  Sparta,  nor  was  it  inalienable.  I  suppose  that 
these  faint  outlines  are  tolerably  correct.  The  rhetoricians 
were  fond  of  delineating  the  primitive  felicity  of  the  Cretans, 
and  of  contrasting  the  degeneracy  of  their  own  times  with  the 
purer  morality  of  the  Saturnian  age  ;  but,  like  all  other  primi- 
tive felicities,  the  Cretan  pretensions  on  this  score  will  hardly 
stand  the  scrutiny  of  investigation.  At  all  events,  in  the  later 
ages,  the  Cretans  enjoyed  no  enviable  reputation  for  personal 
morality  or  regard  to  truth.  Their  lying  spirit  became  a  by- 
word and  their  licentiousness  a  scoff  among  the  Greeks.  St. 
Paul  quotes  a  proverbial  expression,  which  troubles  the  Cre- 
tans at  the  present  day.  "  The  Cretans  are  always  liars," 
was  said  of  them  by  a  Greek  poet,  Callimachus  of  Cyrene, 
because  they  affirmed  that  the  tomb  of  Zeus  was  in  their 
island.  I  have  heard  an  accomplished  Cretan  lady  maintain 
that  her  ancestors  were  right  ;  that  Zeus  was  a  man, 
raised  by  the  ancient  superstition  to  the  rank  of  a  god,  ana 


THE  SPARTAN  CONSTITUTION.  57 

that  he  really  died  and  was  buried  in  Crete,  so  that  there  was 
no  lying  —  not  even  a  mistake — about  it. 

The  Spartans  were  the  quintessence  of  the  Dorians.  Spar- 
tan institutions  exhibit  the  Dorian  political  genius  in  all  its 
strength  and  in  all  its  weakness.  The  Spartan  man  was  the 
Dorian  man  raised  to  the  highest  power.  He  had  all  the 
virtues  of  his  race  in  their  brightest  form ;  and  the  faults  of 
his  race,  that  is,  the  faults  generated  by  their  training,  in  the 
fullest  development. 

Sparta  stood  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Eurotas,  just  below 
the  ranges  of  Taygetus  and  Parnon,  in  a  situation  of  great 
natural  beauty.  It  was  not  surrounded  with  walls  until  the 
Macedonian  age ;  it  was  however  built,  like  most  other  an- 
cient cities,  round  an  acropolis.  The  plain  of  Sparta  forms 
the  heart  of  Laconia.  It  was  originally  inhabited  by  the  Le- 
leges  ;  then  it  fell  under  the  power  of  Achaian  princes ;  and  in 
the  heroic  age  it  was  the  capital  of  Menelaus,  brother  to  Aga- 
memnon, and  of  Helen,  the  most  beautiful  of  women.  Two 
generations  later,  the  Dorian  invasion  dispossessed  the  Achaian 
kings,  and  the  city  became  the  portion  of  Eurysthenes  and 
Procles,  who  claimed  to  be  descended  from  Hercules.  The 
names  of  thirty-one  descendants  of  the  former  and  twenty- 
seven  of  the  latter  are  given,  from  the  foundation  of  the  Dorian 
government  down  to  the  last  quarter  of  the  third  century  be- 
fore Christ,  that  is,  till  after  the  epoch  of  the  Macedonian  su- 
premacy. The  Dorian  conquerors  supplanted  the  old  Achaian 
institutions  by  introducing  the  Dorian  usages,  under  which 
they  had  been  trained  in  their  mountain  homes ;  and  it  was 
upon  this  established  order  that  the  constitution  of  Lycurgus, 
or  the  system  of  rules  and  ordinances  which  passes  under  his 
name,  was  built  up.  It  is  very  clear  that  Lycurgus  did  not 
construct  de  novo  the  institutions  of  Sparta.  They  existed  long 
before  his  time,  as  Dorian  institutions ;  and  all  that  he  did  was 
to  reform  and  reorganize  tnem. 

So  much  uncertainty  exists,  'n  the  midst  of  the  contradic- 
tory statements  of  the  ancients,  as  to  the  personal  history  of 


68  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

Lycurgus,  that  some  sceptical  investigators  have  rejected  it 
altogether,  and  reduced  him  to  a  myth.  This  view,  how- 
ever, must  be  considered  untenable ;  we  must  admit  the 
actual  existence  of  the  lawgiver ;  we  must  admit  the  out- 
lines of  his  character,  and  his  claims  as  the  reorganizer  of  the 
Spartan  commonwealth ;  but  at  the  same  time  we  must  accept 
it  as  at  least  a  probable  conclusion,  that  he  was  only  a  re- 
former, and  not  the  creator  of  a  new  system.  It  is  hardly 
necessary  to  say,  that  to  impose  on  a  people  a  constitution  and 
forms  of  private  life  materially  different  from  those  to  which 
they  have  been  accustomed,  is  an  impossible  task.  Institutions 
grow  up  as  naturally  as  plants  and  animals.  They  may  be 
modified  under  fitting  influences,  and  by  legislative  skill ;  but 
they  cannot  be  forced  into  existence  without  a  radical  con- 
nection with  the  ancient  usages,  laws,  customs,  and  establish- 
ments of  the  people. 

The  period  at  which  Lycurgus  lived  is  wholly  uncertain. 
A.ristotle  placed  him  in  the  age  of  Iphitus,  which  is  in  the 
ninth  century  before  Christ;  Xenophon,  still  earlier.  He  is 
said  to  have  been  the  brother  of  Polydectes  the  king,  and 
afterwards  the  guardian  of  that  king's  posthumous  son.  He  is 
said  also  to  have  visited  Crete,  Asia  Minor,  Egypt,  Libya,  and 
even  the  more  distant  countries  of  Iberia  and  India.  Of  his 
having  travelled  in  other  countries  we  need  not  doubt ;  as 
to  the  particulars  of  his  travels,  we  are  not  bound  to  believe 
much.  At  all  events,  on  his  return  he  was  welcomed  by  all 
parties  as  the  only  man  capable  of  curing  the  evils  under 
which  the  state  was  laboring  from  the  dissensions  of  the  orders. 
According  to  the  custom  of  the  times,  he  began  by  securing 
the  sanction  of  the  oracle  at  Delphi,  —  a  political  engine  of  no 
mean  importance  even  in  those  early  days,  and  often  employed 
in  accomplishing  the  far-reaching  purposes  of  warriors  and 
statesmen.  He  also  had  from  the  beginning  the  support  of  a 
large  party  of  citizens.  Thus  fortified,  he  set  about  his  task. 
Having  finished  the  work,  he  called  the  people  together,  and 
required  of  them  a  promise  that  they  would  make  no  change 


THE   SPARTAN   CONSTITUTION.  59 

m  his  laws  until  his  return  from  a  distant  journey,  which  he 
was  about  to  take.  According  to  Plutarch,  he  went  to 
Delphi,  and,  having  sacrificed  to  Apollo,  received  from  the 
oracle  the  assurance  that,  while  the  people  of  Sparta  observed 
his  laws,  the  state  should  enjoy  the  height  of  renown.  He 
determined,  therefore,  so  far  as  lay  in  his  power,  to  make  it 
immortal,  and  to  hand  it  unchangeable  down  to  posterity. 
"  He  therefore,"  adds  Plutarch,  "  put  an  end  to  himself  by  a 
total  abstinence  from  food ;  thinking  it  a  statesman's  duty  to 
make  his  very  death,  if  possible,  an  act  of  service  to  the  state, 
and  even  in  the  end  of  his  life  to  give  some  example  of  virtue, 
and  effect  some  useful  purpose."  The  general  principle  here 
laid  down  is  very  just ;  while  the  particular  exemplification 
of  it  is  characteristic  of  the  uniform  sentiment  of  antiquity  on 
suicide. 

A  slight  sketch  of  the  Spartan  Constitution  is  all  that  time 
will  allow.  Lycurgus  found  two  kings,  representing  two 
branches  of  the  royal  family,  and  he  left  them  as  he  found 
them.  He  proceeded  to  ordain  a  council,  or  senate,  called 
yepov<Tia, — that  is,  a  body  of  elders,  —  which,  including  the 
kings  who  acted  as  presidents,  consisted  of  thirty  members, 
the  members  representing  the  oboe,  or  subordinate  divisions  of 
the  people.  No  man  could  be  elected  to  the  senate  before  the 
age  of  sixty.  The  election  was  decided  by  the  body  of  citizens 
in  a  very  peculiar  manner,  thus  described  by  Plutarch.  The 
competitors  presented  themselves  on  their  own  motion  to  the 
electors,  who  testified  their  respective  preferences  by  accla- 
mations, the  intensity  of  which  was  noted  by  a  committee  of 
judges  in  a  neighboring  building,  so  placed  that  they  could  not 
see  the  proceedings ;  and  the  successful  candidate  was  the  one 
who,  in  their  opinion,  received  the  most  applause.  The  office 
was  for  life  and  irresponsible ;  and  the  duties  attached  to  it 
were  partly  legislative,  partly  judicial,  and  partly  executive. 
This  body  had  the  initiative  of  all  legislative  acts ;  as  a  crim- 
inal court,  it  could  punish  with  death  and  degradation ;  and  it 
exercised  a  general  supervision  over  the  conduct  of  the  people 


60  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

Such  a  senate  was  no  innovation,  but  belonged  to  the  ancient 
institutions  of  the  Hellenic  race.  Next  came  the  eKKXija-la^ 
— the  assembly  of  the  Spartan  people.  This  consisted  of  al" 
free  citizens  of  the  age  of  thirty  and  upward,  and  had  supreme 
authority  over  all  matters  that  concerned  the  highest  interests 
of  the  state.  The  meetings  of  the  assembly  were  held  every 
full  moon,  and  on  emergencies  oftener.  This  body  alone  had 
the  war-making  power,  concluded  treaties,  made  truces  for 
longer  or  shorter  periods,  chose  to  the  higher  offices,  decided 
disputed  successions,  and  confirmed  or  rejected  changes  in  the 
Constitution.  This  looks  like  the  possession  of  almost  un- 
limited power ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  assembly  could  not 
initiate  a  measure  of  any  description,  could  not  even  amend  a 
measure  proposed  to  them,  could  only  reject  or  approve  an  act 
just  as  it  came  down  from  the  senate,  could  not  even  discuss  a 
measure, — none  except  the  ephors,  kings,  and  some  of  the 
higher  magistrates  possessing  this  right.  In  theory,  the  popular 
assembly  was  all-powerful ;  in  practice,  it  was  almost  entirely 
under  the  control  of  the  senate.  The  power  of  the  kings 
was  exceedingly  limited.  They  presided  over  the  senate, 
but  exercised  no  more  influence  than  other  senators,  except 
that  the  representative  of  the  elder  house  had  a  casting  vote. 
They  held  a  court,  in  which  they  decided  certain  classes  of 
cases.  They  had  the  right  of  speech  in  the  popular  assembly. 
They  were  commanders  in  war,  at  first  jointly,  but  afterwards 
only  one  at  a  time.  As  such,  their  power  beyond  the  bor- 
ders of  Laconia  was  absolute.  Domain-lands  were  assigned 
to  them ;  their  tables  were  supported  at  the  public  expense  ; 
they  had  numerous  perquisites,  —  allotments  from  the  public 
sacrifices,  a  pig  from  every  litter,  and  a  double  portion  at 
every  public  entertainment.  Their  body-guard  consisted  of  a 
hundred  men,  and  they  had  many  subordinate  functionaries 
to  relieve  them  of  the  labors  of  their  office.  Aristotle,  in  his 
usual  terse  style,  says :  "  Some  declare  that  the  best  form  of 
government  is  one  mixed  of  all  the  forms ;  wherefore  they 
praise  that  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  for  some  say  that  it  is  com- 


THE   SPARTAN   CONSTITUTION.  61 

posed  of  oligarchy,  monarchy,  and  democracy ;  that  the  kingly 
power  is  monarchy,  the  office  of  tne  senators  is  oligarchy,  and 
by  reason  of  the  ephors,  who  are  taken  from  the  people,  it  is  a 
democracy.  There  are  others,  however,  who  say  that  the 
ephoralty  is  a  tyranny,  but  that  the  democratic  element  is 
found  in  the  public  tables  and  the  arrangements  of  daily  life." 

The  ephors,  to  whom  Aristotle  alludes,  were  officers  com- 
mon to  most  of  the  Dorian  states.  They  were  five  in  number, 
elected  by  the  people  every  year,  having  jurisdiction  in  civil 
suits,  a  censorial  authority  over  the  manners  and  morals  of  the 
people,  a  superintendence  over  the  execution  of  the  laws,  and 
the  right  of  making  scrutiny  into  the  conduct  of  the  magis- 
trates, including  even  the  kings,  whom  they  could  bring  to 
trial  on  capital  charges.  They  became  the  agents  and  repre- 
sentatives of  the  popular  assembly,  and  by  this  means  gradu- 
ally made  themselves  supi'eme  in  the  state,  completely  redu- 
cing the  kings  to  their  control.  On  one  occasion,  at  least,  they 
went  so  far  as  to  arrest  and  imprison  a  king,  —  Pausanias. 
They  could  temporarily  suspend  the  royal  authority.  They 
alone  remained  seated  in  the  presence  of  the  kings,  while  in 
their  presence  the  kings  were  expected  to  rise.  The  only 
limit  to  their  power  was  that  of  time.  "  The  ephoralty,"  says 
Miiller,  "  was  the  moving  element,  the  principle  of  change  in 
the  Constitution,  and  in  the  end  the  cause  of  its  dissolution." 

It  is  evident  that  this  power  was  excessive,  and  could  not 
fail  to  lead  to  deplorable  abuses ;  but  there  were  deeper  causes 
for  the  overthrow  of  the  Constitution,  and  for  the  disappearance 
of  Sparta  without  leaving  a  single  lesson,  except  by  way  of  warn- 
ing, for  mankind.  The  three  orders  of  the  population  were 
Spartans,  Perioeci,  and  Helots.  The  Spartans  were  the  fully 
qualified  citizens,  who  lived  in  Sparta,  and  were  alone  eligible 
to  offices  of  state.  The  Perioeci  were  freemen,  and  citizens  of 
the  townships  in  Laconia,  with  no  influence  or  control  in  public 
affairs,  but  having  certain  rights  of  local  administration.  They 
were,  therefore,  in  a  position  greatly  inferior  to  that  of  the 
Spartans,  with  whom  they  were  united  in  the  same  political 


62  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

body,  forming  with  them  the  free  community  of  Lacedaemon 
The  Perioeci  were  Dorians,  or  Dorians  intermingled  to  some 
extent  with  the  primitive  inhabitants  of  Laconia.  The  Helots, 
as  I  have  already  stated,  were  the  slave  population,  attached 
to  the  soil  and  paying  rent  to  their  masters.  As  they  were 
generally  the  descendants  of  the  original  rustic  inhabitants,  — 
consequently  of  Greek  origin,  —  and  as  they  lived  more  by 
themselves  in  their  country  hamlets,  —  they  appear  to  have 
had  higher  personal  qualities  than  the  body  of  slaves  else- 
where, and  were  consequently  the  objects  of  greater  dread  to 
their  masters.  This  may  partly  account  for  the  cruel  devices 
to  get  rid  of  them  which  were  mentioned  in  a  former  lecture, 
as  well  as  for  such  special  acts  of  treachery  as  Thucydides  men- 
tions in  connection  with  the  events  of  the  eight  years  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war.  At  that  time  the  ephors  were  under  great 
apprehension  of  a  revolt.  They  accordingly  issued  a  procla- 
mation, that  every  Helot  who  had  rendered  military  services 
to  the  state  —  and  many  had  done  so  —  should  come  forward, 
and  the  most  deserving  should  be  rewarded  with  liberty. 
They  appeared  in  large  numbers.  Two  thousand  were  selected, 
and  formally  manumitted.  Garlands  were  placed  on  their 
heads  ;  they  were  led  in  solemn  procession  round  the  temples 
of  the  gods ;  but,  says  Thucydides,  "  not  long  afterward  they 
all  disappeared,  and  no  one  knew  in  what  manner  any  one  of 
them  perished."  "  We  see  here  a  fact,"  says  Grote,  "  which 
demonstrates  unequivocally  the  impenetrable  mystery  in  which 
the  proceedings  of  the  Spartan  government  were  wrapped,  — 
the  absence,  not  only  of  public  discussion,  but  of  public  curi- 
osity, —  and  the  perfection  with  which  the  ephors  reigned 
over  the  will,  the  hands,  and  the  tongues  of  their  Spartan  sub- 
jects. The  Venetian  Council  of  Ten,  with  all  the  facilities  for 
nocturnal  drowning  which  their  city  presented,  could  hardly 
have  accomplished  so  vast  a  coup  oVttat  with  such  invisible 
means." 

Lycurgus  is  said  to  have  remedied  the  inequality  of  property 
ay  redistributing  the  land,  both  that  belonging  to  Sparta  an 


THE   SPARTAN   CONSTITUTION.  63 

the  tenitory  of  Laconia,  —  the  former  having  been  divided  into 
nine  thousand  equal  lots,  one  for  each  Spartan,  and  the  latter 
into  thirty  thousand,  one  for  each  Perioecus ;  but  this  statement 
has  no  early  authority  in  its  favor,  and  the  strongest  arguments 
against  it.  The  language  of  the  most  trustworthy  authors  in 
their  allusions  to  Sparta  constantly  implies  an  inequality  of 
wealth  among  the  citizens,  and  contains  no  reference  whatever 
to  any  such  equal  division  ;  and  among  these  authors  are  He- 
rodotus, who  gives  an  account  of  Lycurgus,  and  Plato,  Aristotle, 
and  Xenophon,  who  made  a  special  study  of  the  Spartan  Con- 
stitution. The  idea  is  evidently  one  of  later  origin  than  the  life- 
time of  either  of  these  great  writers;  and  Plutarch,  who  in  his 
Life  of  Lycurgus  has  given  the  most  circumstantial  description 
of  his  polity,  took  up  this  view  without  sufficiently  examining 
its  foundation.  In  truth,  it  is  one  of  the  numerous  fictions 
which  accumulated  around  the  name  of  Lycurgus.  It  was 
founded  on  a  vision  of  reform  cherished  in  the  third  century 
before  Christ  by  King  Agis  IV.,  who  endeavored  to  restore 
the  Constitution  to  its  ancient  purity,  and  lost  his  life  in  the 
attempt.  But  Plutarch  says,  that  this  equality  of  property, 
with  nine  thousand  Spartans,  and  thirty  thousand  Perioeci, 
lasted  down  to  the  time  of  Epitadeus,  —  an  ephor  who,  having 
quarrelled  with  his  son,  and  wishing  to  cut  him  off  from  the 
inheritance,  caused  a  law  to  be  passed  that  every  father  of  a 
family  might  dispose  of  his  estate  as  he  pleased ;  and  this  ma- 
lignant act  was  the  overthrow  of  the  system  of  equality  estab- 
lished by  Lycurgus.  From  Lycurgus  to  Epitadeus  was  a 
period  of  nearly  five  centuries.  The  statement  implies,  then, 
that  for  five  hundred  years  each  of  the  Spartans  and  each 
of  the  Perioeci  had  one  son,  and  no  more,  who  lived  to  man's 
estate,  and  succeeded  his  father  in  the  possession  of  the  old 
Lycurgean  homestead ! 

The  political  arrangements  of  the  Spartans  were  not  so 
remarkable  as  the  social  or  private  organization,  with  which, 
however,  they  were  vitally  connected.  The  Dorians  were, 
rom  the  beginning,  warlike,  nearly  as  much  so  as  the  North 


64  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

American  savages.  When  they  established  themselves  in 
Peloponnesus,  they  were  a  small,  united  body  of  warriors,  in 
heavy  armor,  surrounded  by  native  populations  which  they 
had  subdued,  and  by  slaves  outnumbering  them  many  to  one. 
Life  itself  could  be  maintained  only  at  the  price  of  perpetual 
vigilance.  These  circumstances  exercised  a  controlling  influ- 
ence over  their  institutions.  Martial  virtues  —  that  is,  cour- 
age and  endurance  —  took  the  lead  of  all  others  ;  and  when 
disorders  broke  out  in  the  state,  the  aim  of  the  reformer  was 
to  restore  the  declining  qualities  of  character  to  their  real  or 
fancied  pristine  condition,  or  to  develop  the  still  remaining 
germs  into  a  larger  growth  than  they  had  ever  before  attained. 
Some  such  idea  we  may  suppose  to  have  been  in  the  mind 
of  Lycurgus  when  he  took  in  hand  the  task  of  reconstructing 
the  shattered  state.  His  aim  was  to  educate  to  their  highest 
efficiency  the  qualities  in  man  which  fit  him  for  a  state  of  war, 
—  to  make  him  a  fighting  animal  in  the  broadest  sense,  inspir- 
ing; him  at  the  same  time  with  absolute  devotion  to  his  coun- 
try.  He  must  therefore  train  him  by  the  most  rigid  rules. 
He  must  not  even  commence  with  his  birth,  but  must  direct 
and  control  the  circumstances  under  which  he  shall  be  born. 
Education  does  everything ;  and  that  must  not  be  left  to  the 
caprice  or  ignorance  or  carelessness  of  the  individual.  Fa- 
thers, mothers,  children,  must  alike  be  under  the  rigid  watch- 
fulness of  the  state  or  its  representative,  must  alike  be  trained 
by  constant  drill  to  the  highest  efficiency  in  their  several 
duties.  The  infant,  as  I  have  said,  was  submitted  to  the 
judgment  of  public  triers,  who  decided  whether  he  should 
live  at  all.  If  the  decision  was  in  the  affirmative,  he  was 
immediately  put  under  discipline.  He  was  bathed  in  wine, 
and  not  in  water,  it  being  supposed  that  a  feeble  child  would 
faint  in  a  wine  bath  ;  he  was  not  allowed  to  be  put  into  swath- 
ing-bands ;  he  could  not  be  whimsical  about  his  food ;  he  was 
not  permitted  to  be  afraid  in  the  dark,  or  to  give  way  to  ill- 
humor  or  crying.  At  the  age  of  seven  he  was  enrolled  in 
i  company  or  class,  playing,  exercising,  and  undergoing  dis» 


THE  SPARTAN   CONSTITUTION.  65 

cipline  with  his  fellows.  The  boldest  and  hardiest  of  the 
troop  was  made  captain ;  the  rest  obeyed  his  oi'ders,  and  sub- 
mitted to  the  punishments  he  decreed.  Sometimes  the  elderly 
Spartans,  coming  to  their  quarters,  got  up  quarrels,  and  pitted 
the  little  fellows  against  one  another  to  try  their  pluck.  They 
were  taught  a  little  reading  and  writing  ;  but  the  discipline 
chiefly  aimed  to  make  them  hardy.  Their  heads  were  close 
shaven,  they  went  barefoot,  and  played  naked.  Bathing  and 
anointing  were  occasionally  indulged  in,  after  the  age  of  twelve. 
They  slept  on  rushes,  which  they  plucked,  without  a  knife,  on 
the  banks  of  the  Eurotas.  At  twelve  years  old,  a  citizen  of 
honorable  character  was  placed  in  charge  of  them,  who  ap- 
pointed their  leaders  from  among  those  a  little  older.  The 
youths  were  then  employed  in  various  offices  ;  —  sent  on  steal- 
ing expeditions,  and  whipped  if  they  were  found  out.  One 
of  the  reasons  assigned  by  Plutarch  for  their  hard  fare  was, 
"  that  they  might  grow  taller ;  for  the  vital  spirits,  not  being 
overburdened  and  oppressed  by  too  great  a  quantity  of  nour- 
ishment, which  necessarily  runs  into  thickness  and  breadth,  do 
by  their  natural  lightness  rise  ;  and  the  body,  giving  and  yield- 
ing because  it  is  pliant,  grows  in  height.  The  same  thing 
seems  also  to  conduce  to  beauty  of  shape ;  a  dry  and  lean 
habit  is  a  better  subject  for  nature's  configuration,  which  the 
stout  and  overfed  are  too  heavy  to  submit  to  properly."  Plu- 
tarch relates  the  well-known  anecdote,  that  a  youth,  having 
stolen  a  fox,  hid  it  under  his  cloak,  and  let  it  tear  his  vitals 
rather  than  be  detected ;  and  he  adds,  that  he  had  himself 
"  seen  several  youths  endure  whipping  to  death  at  the  foot  of 
the  altar  of  Artemis." 

The  public  tables  —  symtia  —  were  under  the  direction  of 
the  Polemarchs,  or  ministers  of  war.  Each  citizen  was  re- 
quired to  contribute  his  quota  of  provisions,  —  barley-meal, 
wine,  cheese,  and  figs,  and  a  small  sum  of  money  for  condiments. 
Here  every  man,  without  distinction,  was  obliged  to  take  his 
meals.  The  citizen's  days  were  spent  in  gymnastic  exercises 
ind  military  drill ;  for  the  lawgiver  had  forbidden  him  every 


66  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

species  of  industrious  or  money-making  occupation,  including 
agriculture.     His  nights  were  passed  in  a  species  of  barracks 
for,  through  the  period  of  youth  at  least,  the  Spartan,  though 
married,  had  no  domestic  life,  and  associated  with  his  family 
only  by  stealth. 

Lycurgus  was  of  opinion  that  to  sit  at  home  and  spin  and 
weave  was  well  enough  for  female  slaves,  but  was  no  fitting 
occupation  for  the  future  wives  and  mothers  of  Spartans. 
The  Spartan  maidens,  therefore,  were  carried  through  a  sys- 
tem of  training  like  that  to  which  the  youths  were  inured. 
They  were  exercised  daily  in  running,  wrestling,  and  boxing, 
in  the  presence  of  the  young  men,  the  kings,  and  the  body  of 
the  citizens  ;  they  marched  in  the  religious  processions,  and 
sang  and  danced  in  public ;  and,  in  their  turn,  they  were  spec- 
tators of  the  exercises  of  the  young  men. 

Xenophon  is  enthusiastic  upon  the  beauty  of  the  Spartan 
women.  That  their  pre-eminence  in  this  respect  was  acknowl- 
edged in  Athens  may  be  inferred  from  a  passage  in  the  "  Lysis- 
trata  "  of  Aristophanes.  It  is  a  play  in  which  the  women  of 
Greece  are  represented  as  holding  a  general  convention,  to 
devise  measures  for  the  establishment  of  peace.  On  the  ar- 
rival of  Lampito,  the  delegate  from  Lacedaemon,  she  is  saluted 
by  Lysistrata,  the  leader  of  the  movement,  and  welcomed  by 
the  assembled  womanhood  of  Greece  in  admiring  terms :  — 

«  Hail ! 

Lampito,  dearest  of  Laconian  women, 

How  shines  thy  beauty,  O  my  sweetest  friend  1 

How  fair  thy  color,  full  of  life  thy  frame ! 

Why,  thou  couldst  choke  a  bull. 

Lampito. 

Yes,  by  the  Twain 
For  daily  I  the  art  gymnastic  practise. 
And  leaping  strike  my  backbone  witn  my  heels. 

LysistrAta. 
In  sooth,  thy  charms  are  lovely  to  behold." 

Aristotle  gives  a  rather  unfavorable  view  of  the  Spartan 
women      They  werf  not,  in  all  respects,  as  hardly  treated  as 


THE  SPARTAN   CONSTITUTION.  67 

the  men.  They  were  spared  the  public  tables  and  the  black 
broth ;  and  the  consequence  was,  as  Plato  and  Aristotle  inti- 
mate, that  they  grew  luxurious  at  home ;  and  this  difference 
of  treatment  Aristotle  says  was  owing  to  the  fact  that  Lycur- 
gus  did  his  best  to  bring  the  women  under  the  same  system  of 
discipline  with  the  men,  but  found  them  more  than  a  match 
for  him,  and  had  to  give  up  the  attempt.  It  is  very  possible 
that  the  Athenian  philosopher,  who  did  not  greatly  admire, 
on  general  principles,  the  kind  of  strong-bodied  women  which 
the  Spartan  gymnastics  tended  to  produce,  may  have  met  with 
some  unpleasant  specimens  of  the  sex,  and  that  he  analyzed 
their  characters  as  he  would  have  dissected  some  strange  fish. 
A  curious  fact  mentioned  by  him  is,  that  two  fifths  of  the 
landed  property  of  Sparta  in  his  time  belonged  to  women. 
At  all  events,  women  exercised  a  more  controlling  power  in 
Sparta  than  elsewhere  in  Greece  ;  and  their  applause  was 
sought  by  the  young  men,  at  their  military  exercises,  with 
an  enthusiasm  that  reminds  us  of  the  knights  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  Their  praise  was  the  warrior's  dearest  crown,  their 
contempt  more  intolerable  than  death.  Marriage  was  an  in- 
dispensable condition  of  respectability  to  the  Spartan. 

His  peculiar  training  made  the  Spartan  an  obstinate  conser- 
vative. Charondas,  the  lawgiver  of  a  Dorian  colony  in  Italy, 
after  preparing  his  code,  enacted  that,  if  any  man  proposed  a 
new  law,  he  should  enter  the  assembly  with  a  halter  round  his 
neck,  and  that,  if  the  proposition  was  not  accepted,  the  proposer 
should  be  immediately  hanged,  —  a  very  good  method  of  pre- 
venting excessive  legislation.  As  the  laws  of  Lycurgus  were 
not  written,  and  written  laws  were  even  forbidden,  there  was 
no  need  of  a  safeguard  like  that  of  Charondas.  The  inter- 
pretation of  each  statute  rested  in  the  bosom  of  the  judge. 
But  the  Spartan,  like  his  brother  Dorians  elsewhere,  hated 
change.  He  refused  a  new  seasoning  to  his  broth,  and  would 
not  allow  a  new  string  to  be  added  to  the  old  four-chorded 
lyre.  It  was  a  praiseworthy  point  in  his  manners,  that  he 
respected  oid  age,  and  regarded  slander  upon  the  memory  of 
fhe  dead  with  abhorrence,  as  the  worst  of  crimes. 


68  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

The  literary  education  of  the  Spartan  was  very  limited. 
The  literature  of  the  Doric  dialect  was  mostly  produced  by 
writers  other  than  Spartan.  Pindar's  odes  are  in  the  Doric 
dialect,  but  Pindar  was  a  Theban.  Alcman  was  an  Asiatic  ; 
Tyrtaeus  was  an  Ionian  of  Attica;  Telesilla,  famous  for  her 
odes,  was  an  Argive  woman.  Her  poems  were  admired ; 
but  she  was  much  more  renowned  for  having  on  one  occasion 
armed  herself  with  helmet  and  shield,  and  led  an  army  of 
women  to  drive  back  a  besieging  enemy  from  the  walls. 

With  such  a  people  there  could  be  no  popular  eloquence. 
Indeed,  as  we  have  seen,  at  the  meetings  of  the  people  no  one 
was  allowed  to  say  anything  except  the  kings  and  some  of  the 
higher  magistrates.  Kings  have  never  been  distinguished,  as 
a  class,  for  their  eloquence.  A  man  who  has  the  power  to 
order  has  no  need  to  persuade  ;  and  a  people  that  can  say  only 
"  yes  "  or  "  no  "  is  not  very  likely  to  produce  a  race  of  ora- 
tors. Long  debates  were,  therefore,  unknown  in  Sparta.  I 
suppose  that  the  most  important  question  ever  brought  before 
a  Spartan  assembly  might  have  been  despatched  in  a  minute 
and  a  half,  allowing  one  minute  for  the  royal  speech,  and 
half  a  minute  for  the  popular  vote,  —  a  vast  saving  of  time, 
doubtless. 

Thus  we  see  that  the  whole  tendency  of  the  institutions  of 
Lycurgus  was  to  train  up  a  limited  number  of  men  and  women, 
forming  a  compact  community,  living  on  the  labor  of  slaves, 
with  powerfully  developed  frames,  terrible  in  war,  silent  in 
oeace  ;  but  in  doing  this,  the  sentiments  of  humanity,  the  affec- 
tions of  family,  the  delights  of  literature,  the  charms  of  art,  and 
the  exhilai'ation  of  varied  social  intercourse,  were  sacrificed. 
In  short,  the  objects  of  the  private  and  public  training  of  the 
Spartan  were  such  as  are  approved  neither  by  reason,  phi- 
losophy, nor  common  sense  ;  they  imply  no  enlightened  view 
of  human  life  on  earth,  or  of  the  destiny  of  man  hereafter. 

There  are  two  striking  pictures  presented  to  us  by  the  Spar- 
tan commonwealth.  A  Dorian  army  marching  to  battle  was 
doubtless  a  splendid  and  imposing  spectacle,  and  exhibited  the 


THE   SPARTAN   CONSTITUTION.  69 

image  of  war  in  its  highest  perfection.  The  soldiers  with  gar- 
lands on  their  heads,  the  king  leading  the  psean,  —  all  moving 
without  disorder  in  their  ranks,  with  minds  composed  and 
countenances  serene,  advancing  with  measured  step  and  the 
music  of  flutes  to  the  deadly  onset,  —  fill  us  with  a  certain 
admiration.  Then,  again,  when  tidings  of  disaster  arrive  at 
Sparta,  —  of  the  defeat  at  Leuctra,  for  example, — the  Spar- 
tan demeanor  is  equally  characteristic.  A  festival  is  going 
forward,  —  the  news  circulates  that  thousands  of  the  best  and 
bravest  have  perished ;  but  the  festival  still  proceeds.  The 
friends  of  those  who  have  fallen  on  the  field  appear  in  public, 
rejoicing  as  if  in  some  piece  of  good  fortune.  The  friends  of 
the  survivors,  on  the  other  hand,  are  overwhelmed  with  grief 
and  shame.  A  calamity  has  overtaken  them ;  for  their  sons, 
brothers,  husbands,  have  not  been  slain.  Here  is  a  wonderful 
result,  certainly,  of  the  power  of  training,  —  more  wonderful 
than  the  army  on  the  battle-field. 

In  these  two  scenes  we  have  the  culmination  of  Spartan 
institutions,  the  supreme  excellence  of  the  Spartan  character. 
Was  this,  even  judged  by  the  standard  of  ancient  philos- 
ophy, the  highest  attainable  end,  worthy  to  be  held  forth 
by  the  founder  of  a  state,  and  proposed  to  the  citizen  as  the 
noblest  object  to  which  his  aspirations  should  be  directed? 
And  did  this  training  prepare  the  Dorians  for  a  long  national 
existence  ?  I  think  not.  Its  success  depended  upon  the  lim- 
itations of  numbers  and  space,  —  upon  rigid  non-intercourse 
with  other  nations,  politically,  financially,  socially,  and  in  ev- 
ery relation  save  that  of  war.  The  iron  currency,  and  the 
xenelasia,  or  exclusion  of  strangers,  were  designed  to  per- 
petuate the  commercial  and  social  isolation  ;  and  all  the  other 
institutions  had  the  same  general  tendency.  It  is  surprising 
that  the  Spartan  commonwealth  retained  its  distinctive  charac- 
teristics, even  externally,  as  long  as  it  did.  It  began,  in  fact, 
to  decay  inwardly  very  early.  The  iron  currency  created  an 
intense  thirst  for  gold ;  the  black  broth,  an  irresistible  longing 
por  the  luxuries  of  the  table  ;  the  rigid  life  prepared  for  licen- 


70  CONSTITUTIONS   AND    ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

tious  indulgences ;  the  war-poetry  made  amatory  and  baccha- 
nalian songs  peculiarly  welcome  ;  the  love  of  fighting  roused  a 
passion  for  foreign  conquest ;  and  when  Agis  IV.  attempted,  in 
his  generous  but  visionary  schemes  of  reform,  to  carry  back 
the  degenerate  community  to  the  vigor  of  the  ancient  life,  he 
fell  under  the  murderous  stroke  of  the  ephors.  No  men  were 
so  easily  bribed  in  the  later  times  as  the  kings  and  generals  of 
Sparta.  None  of  the  Greeks  fell  so  readily  and  completely 
under  the  temptations  of  Oriental  pomp  and  luxury,  as  the 
Spartan  commanders  in  Asia  Minor.  The  story  of  Pausa- 
nias,  so  vividly  related  by  Thucydides,  illustrates  this  in  a 
most  instructive  manner.  Charged  with  the  command  of  the 
Spartan  army,  he  surrounded  himself  with  the  guards  of  Asi- 
atic despotism,  wore  the  Asiatic  dress,  assumed  the  Asiatic 
haughtiness  of  demeanor,  and  offered  to  subject  all  Greece  to 
the  Great  King  on  condition  of  having  that  monarch's  daughter 
for  his  wife.  True,  he  was  recalled,  and  perished  miserably ; 
but  the  attempt  shows  the  natural  effect  of  such  a  system  upon 
the  character  of  man.  You  cannot  outrage  Nature,  without 
suffering  the  penalty.  If  you  insist  on  cramping  her  under  the 
repressions  and  restraints  of  an  artificial  system,  be  sure  she 
will  break  the  bounds  when  opportunity  and  temptation  come 
as  they  will  come  sooner  or  later. 


LECTURE    V. 

ATHENIAN   KINGS.  — SOLON  AND   HIS  LAWS. 

The  song  of  Athenian  exiles  in  another  land  had  for  its 
refrain  the  words,  Ico/iev  e?  'AOrjvas,  —  "  Let  us  go  to  Ath- 
ens." Others  besides  Athenian  exiles  have  fondly  repeated 
the  refrain,  latfiev  e?  "AdrjViK;.  Let  us  go  to  Athens  to- 
night. We  leave  the  banks  of  the  Eurotas,  the  Taygetus,  the 
military  brotherhood  of  the  Spartans,  and,  passing  over  the 
Saronic  Gulf,  greet  the  hills  of  Attica,  the  Plain  of  Athens,  the 
Acropolis,  the  Parthenon,  the  Pheidian  Minerva,  the  Cephissus 
and  Academy,  the  Ilissus  and  Lyceum.  Like  the  ancient 
Erechtheidae,  "  we  walk  in  the  most  brilliant  air "  ;  we  call 
up  the  mighty  names  of  the  past,  whose  memorials  dwell  eter- 
nally in  the  hearts  of  men.  Of  all  the  cities  in  the  world,  — 
next  to  Jerusalem,  the  Holy  City,  which  stands  apart  in  the 
sacred  thoughts  of  the  human  race,  —  Athens  is  peerless  and 
alone.  In  her  contributions  to  the  progress  of  humanity,  in 
legislation,  in  poetry,  in  philosophy,  in  statesmanship,  in  art,  in 
the  administration  of  justice,  in  every  species  of  eloquence,  in 
the  urbanities  of  social  life,  in  the  multitude  of  great  names 
that  adorn  her  history,  in  commerce,  in  the  mechanic  arts,  so 
despised  at  Sparta,  in  political  economy,  Athens  was  without 
an  equal,  without  a  second ;  —  the  school  of  the  ancient  world, 
so  long  as  taste  and  culture  endured ;  the  school  of  art  in  the 
modern  world,  from  the  moment  her  glorious  ruins  were  dis- 
covered by  the  early  traveller;  at  this  day  the  school  of  letters, 
education,  liberty  to  the  Hellenic  race,  revived,  disenthralled, 
destined  before  many  years  have  passed  to  replace  the  cross  on 
the  domes  of  St.  Sophia,  and  to  chase  the  crescent  across  thfl 
Bosporus,  and  into  Central  Asia,  whence  it  came. 


72  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

The  origin  of  Athens  is  lost  in  the  mists  of  the  most  remote 
antiquity.  There  is  a  curious  passage  in  the  Timaeus  of  Plato, 
in  which  Critias,  one  of  the  persons  of  the  dialogue,  relates  that 
he  had  heard  from  his  grandfather  Critias  —  then  ninety  years 
old  —  a  story  which  he,  the  grandfather,  had  heard  in  his 
vouth  from  Solon.  According  to  this  tradition,  when  Solon 
was  in  Egypt,  he  held  a  conversation  with  a  priest  of  Sais  on 
the  antiquity  of  their  respective  countries.  The  priest  called 
the  Greeks  mere  children,  and  said  they  knew  nothing  about 
their  own  ancestors.  But  in  point  of  fact,  Sais  and  Athens 
were  both  founded  by  the  same  goddess,  called  Neith  by  the 
Egyptians,  and  Athene  by  the  Greeks.  Sais  was  founded 
eight  thousand  years  ago,  and  Athens  nine  thousand.  The 
site  of  Athens  was  selected  by  the  goddess,  because  she 
thought  that  the  temperature  of  the  seasons  would  produce  the 
most  intellectual  men.  She  therefore,  being  a  lover  of  war  and 
a  lover  of  wisdom,  chose  the  spot  which  would  bear  men  most 
like  herself,  and  peopled  it.  The  ancient  inhabitants  of  Athens, 
thus  founded,  in  excellence  of  laws  and  in  every  virtue  sur- 
passed all  mankind,  as  was  to  be  expected  of  the  Children  and 
pupils  of  the  gods.  Their  great  deeds,  lost  from  the  memory 
of  the  Athenians  in  Solon's  age,  were  recorded  in  Sais ;  as  was 
one  exploit  of  theirs  which  exceeded  all  the  others.  In  those 
old,  antediluvian  times,  there  came  from  the  Atlantic  sea,  from 
beyond  the  pillars  of  Hercules,  a  mighty  force,  from  the  island 
there.  This  island  was  larger  than  Libya  and  Asia,  and  com- 
municated with  other  islands  and  a  continent  in  the  Atlantic 
sea,  In  this  island,  called  the  Atlantis,  there  existed  a  mighty 
host,  which,  having  assembled,  came  to  enslave  the  countries 
occupied  by  the  Athenians  and  the  Saitans.  Then  the  power  of 
the  Athenians  distinguished  itself  in  the  eyes  of  all  mankind : 
for,  taking  the  lead  of  all  the  Greeks  in  arts  and  arms,  Ath- 
ens conquered  the  invaders,  freed  those  who  had  been  en- 
slaved, and  saved  the  free  from  threatened  bondage.  Some 
time  after  these  events,  dreadful  earthquakes  and  deluges 
occurred ;  the  martial  hosts  of  Athens  were  swallowed  up  in 


ATHENA  N   KINGS.  73 

the  earth  ;  the  Atlantic  Island  vanished  from  sight  beneath 
the  sea ;  and  from  that  time  the  ocean  has  been  inaccessible 
and  inscrutable.  These  events,  according  to  the  Egyptian 
legend,  or  the  fiction  of  Plato,  took  place  nine  thousand  years 
before  Solon.  This  is  the  tradition  which  has  been  supposed 
to  show  that  the  ancients  had  some  notion  of  the  American 
continent.  Several  of  the  expressions  apply  with  extraordinary 
accuracy  to  the  New  World ;  and  whether  the  legend  came 
from  the  priests  of  Sais  or  was  the  invention  of  the  philosophel 
himself,  it  is  equally  curious.  No  doubt  it  was  very  accept- 
able to  the  Athenians,  falling  in,  as  it  did,  with  their  pride  of 
autochthonous  descent. 

Thucydides  states  that  Attica,  in  the  early  ages,  was  less 
disturbed  by  immigrations  and  revolutions  than  other  parts  of 
Greece,  on  account  of  the  lightness  of  the  soil,  which  offered 
but  slight  temptation  to  the  roving  tribes  of  those  unsettled 
times.  The  city  of  Athens  was  built  round  a  rocky  elevation, 
rising  from  the  plain  about  six  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  sea,  and  three  hundred  above  the  average  level  of  the 
town.  This  height,  about  a  thousand  feet  in  length  from  east 
to  west,  and  five  hundred  feet  wide  at  the  widest  place,  was  a 
convenient  eminence  for  the  stronghold  of  some  chieftain,  whose 
retainers  occupied  the  grounds  just  below  it ;  and  thus  a  mili- 
tary or  predatory  community  was  formed.  This,  or  some- 
thing like  it,  I  suppose  to  have  been  the  germ  of  the  illus- 
trious city  of  Athens.  One  of  the  Attic  legends  represents 
Cecrops — according  to  some  an  Egyptian  immigrant,  according 
to  others  an  old  Pelasgian  hero  —  as  the  first  occupant  of  the 
Acropolis,  which  was  called  from  him  Cecropia.  Sixteen  kings 
followed  him,  the  line  ending  with  Codrus,  who  sacrificed  his 
life  for  his  country.  In  this  line  were  Theseus  and  Menes- 
theus.  Erechtheus  is  said  to  have  built  a  temple  to  Athene, 
on  the  Acropolis ;  and  from  him  the  Erechtheium  of  Pericles 
received  its  name.  The  house  of  Erechtheus  and  the  rich 
temple  of  Athene  are  mentioned  by  Homer. 

Theseus  is  the   favorite   hero  among  the  legendary  kings 


74  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

Before  his  time  Attica  was  divided  into  several  independent 
communities,  like  the  other  states  of  Greece.  Theseus  united 
these  —  twelve  in  number  —  into  one  commonwealth,  and  laia 
the  foundation  of  the  political  institutions  which  Solon  after- 
wards reformed.  His  exploits  were  favorite  subjects  of  poetry 
and  art ,  and  his  name  and  deeds  were  commemorated,  in  the 
time  of  Oimon,  by  tie  beautiful  temple,  which  still  stands  in 
better  preservation  r!ian  any  other  structure  of  ancient  Athens. 
The  bones  of  fhe  hero,  who  was  slain  in  the  distant  island 
of  Scyros,  vers  brought  to  Athens,  received  with  every  mark 
of  honor,  and  buried  on  the  spot  where  the  temple  stands ; 
and  on  the  frieze  ^ere  sculptured,  by  the  best  Athenian  artists, 
beautiful  groups,  representing  his  brave  deeds,  together  with 
those  of  his  friend  and  associate  Hercules.  Menestheus  led 
the  Athenian  contingent  in  the  Trojan  war,  and  was  ranked 
by  Horner  as,  in  warlike  deeds,  second  only  to  Nestor. 

After  the  death  of  Codrus,  as  the  legend  says,  no  one  was 
allowed  to  bear  the  name  of  king ;  but  his  son  Medon  suc- 
ceeded him,  as  archon  or  ruler  by  hereditary  right.  The  suc- 
cession of  life-archons  lasted  through  twelve  reigns,  and  ended 
with  Alcmaeon,  a  little  later  than  the  re-establishment  of  the 
Olympic  games,  —  B.  C.  776,  —  the  earliest  authentic  date  in 
Grecian  history.  The  archonship  was  then  changed  to  an 
office  of  ten  years'  duration  ;  and  seven  decennial  archons 
carried  on  the  government  till  B.  C.  683.  At  this  time  several 
very  important  changes  took  place  in  the  supreme  magistracy 
of  the  Athenian  commonwealth.  The  office  of  archon  was 
made  annual,  and  its  various  functions  were  distributed  among 
a  board  of  nine  colleagues,  who  were  to  be  taken  from  the 
class  of  the  Eupatridce,  or  descendants  of  the  ancient  noble 
families.  One  of  these  magistrates  was  considered  the  head 
of  the  board.  He  was  called  the  eponymus,  or  the  magistrate 
who  gave  his  name  to  the  year,  and  who  was  always  men- 
tioned in  records  and  documents. 

There  was  an  ancient  division  of  the  people  of  Attica,  attrib 
uted  to  Theseus,  into  three  classes,  —  the  Eupatridas,  or  old 


SOLON   AND   HIS  LAWS.  75 

Ionian  nobility  ;  the  Geoinori,  or  tillers  of  the  soil ;  and  the 
Demiurgi,  or  artisans,  —  all  political  power  belonging  to  the 
first  class.  There  was  a  still  older  distribution  into  four  tribes, 
said  by  some  to  have  been  derived  from  the  four  sons  of 
Ion,  the  mythical  progenitor  of  the  Ionian  race.  The  names, 
however,  seem  to  point  to  four  classes,  distinguished,  according 
to  their  occupations,  as  tillers  of  the  soil,  warriors,  herdsmen, 
and  artisans ;  but  the  names  are  doubtful  and  their  meanings 
still  more  so,  and  it  is  impossible  to  say  with  any  certainty 
what  was  the  original  principle  of  the  division.  Somewhat 
later,  a  local  division  arose,  on  which  political  parties  and  civil 
dissensions  were  founded.  The  parties  were  that  of  the  moun- 
tain, that  of  the  plain,  and  that  of  the  sea-coast.  At  the  time 
of  the  appointment  of  life-archons,  there  existed  the  council  or 
senate  of  the  Areopagus,  which  seems  to  have  represented  the 
ancient  BoulS  of  Homer's  time. 

Until  the  age  of  Draco  and  Solon,  the  government  was  in 
the  hands  of  the  Archons  and  the  Areopagus,  that  is,  it  was 
carefully  limited  to  the  noble  class.  But  abuses  early  mani- 
fested themselves ;  the  common  people  groaned  in  poverty 
under  this  oligarchical  system  ;  the  rich  had  everything  in 
their  own  way ;  and  the  poor  became  poorer,  until  many  of 
them  were  sold  into  slavery  to  pay  the  debts  they  owed  to 
their  Eupatrid  landlords,  or  were  reduced  to  the  rank  of  slaves 
at  home.  This  state  of  things  at  length  became  intolerable ; 
and  Draco,  a  distinguished  citizen,  was  appointed,  under  what 
precise  circumstances  we  do  not  know,  to  draw  up  a  code  of 
written  laws,  inasmuch  as,  up  to  this  time,  the  laws  at  Athens 
had  been  traditional,  and  the  interpretation  and  application  of 
them  had  been  left  to  the  discretion  of  the  nobles.  Draco  seems 
10  have  been  a  hard  man,  having  no  sympathy  with  the  weak- 
nesses of  human  nature  from  which  crimes  proceed.  There  is 
ancient  testimony  that  some  of  his  laws  were  excellent,  and 
that  they  continued  unrepealed  down  to  the  end  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  war.  But  his  penal  code  was  simple  and  severe.  For 
the  smallest  theft  or  larceny  *ne  penalty  was  death  ;  so  that 


T6  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREEOK 

Democles  the  orator  said  that  his  laws  were  written  in  blood. 
Such  a  system  could  not  be  long  enforced  against  the  outraged 
sentiments  of  the  human  heart.  The  principle  assumed  by 
Draco,  that  the  smallest  crime  deserves  death  and  the  greatest 
can  receive  no  more,  is  a  fallacy  which  every  man  instinctively 
rejects,  and  every  society  will  instinctively  refuse, to  recognize. 
I  doubt  if  a  single  condemnation  ever  took  place  under  this 
extreme  principle ;  and  the  wonder  is,  how  any  man  could  ever 
have  dreamed  of  the  possibility  of  enforcing  such  a  system. 
But  an  enthusiast  pays  little  heed  to  human  nature,  when  or- 
ganizing his  plan  of  operations.  If  men  refuse  compliance,  the 
fault  is  not  in  the  system,  but  in  human  nature,  which  obsti- 
nately resists  the  proposed  reform.  Draco  had  counted  with- 
out his  host.  On  a  visit  to  the  theatre  in  JEgina,  the  people, 
pretending  to  honor  him,  threw  so  many  cloaks  upon  him  that 
he  was  smothered  to  death. 

The  confusion  incident  to  this  unsuccessful  attempt  at  legis- 
lation was  thought  by  Cylon,  one  of  the  Eupatrids,  a  favor- 
able opportunity  to  establish  a  tyranny.  Supported  by  a 
strong  body  of  armed  retainers,  he  seized  the  Acropolis,  misled 
by  an  ambiguous  oracle  which  he  had  received  from  Delphi. 
The  people  had  no  fancy  for  a  tyranny,  and  they  besieged  him 
closely.  He  contrived  to  escape ;  but  his  associates,  who  had 
taken  refuge  at  the  altar  of  Athene,  were  induced  to  quit  the 
asylum  by  the  promise  that  they  should  be  spared,  and  as  they 
came  away  were  immediately  put  to  death.  The  family  of  the 
Alcmaeonidse,  to  which  the  archon  Megacles,  the  author  of 
this  sacrilege,  belonged,  were  looked  upon  as  polluted ;  their 
presence  was  deemed  dangerous  to  the  state,  and  some  years 
afterward  they  were  expelled  from  Athens.  A  pestilence 
breaking  out  at  this  time,  the  superstitious  fears  of  the  people 
connected  it  with  the  pollution  of  the  Alcmseonidse ;  and  the 
managers  of  the  oracle  at  Delphi,  glad  of  every  opportunity  to 
extend  their  influence  over  the  minds  of  men  through  their  re- 
ligious terrors,  advised  them  to  call  in  the  aid  of  Epimenides 
of  Crete,  a  famous  impostor,  who  made  the  world  believe  that. 


SOLON   AND   HIS   LAWS.  77 

in  a  trance  of  fifty-seven  years'  duration,  he  had  been  favored 
with  supernatural  intercourse  with  the  gods.  This  crafty  old 
classic  trance-medium  was  accordingly  sent  for ;  was  received 
with  the  most  distinguished  honors;  performed  sacrifices  and 
other  ceremonies,  which  were  supposed  to  have  stayed  the 
plague ;  and,  unlike  the  modern  mediums,  when  the  people 
offered  him  money  for  his  services,  refused  it,  and  would  re- 
ceive nothing  but  a  spray  of  the  sacred  olive  on  the  Acropolis. 
During  these  transactions  there  rose  to  notice  a  young  man, 
destined  to  exercise  an  influence  so  long  as  legislation  con- 
tinues in  political  society.  Solon  was  born  about  638  B.  C, 
of  one  of  the  most  illustrious  families  in  Athens.  By  his 
father's .  side  he  was  descended  from  Codrus ;  and  by  his 
mother  he  was  connected  with  the  family  of  Peisistratus. 
The  hereditary  estate  possessed  by  the  family  had  been  re- 
duced, partly  by  the  prodigality  of  his  father,  Execestides. 
Solon  perhaps  inherited  his  father's  love  of  pleasure.  He 
had  a  bright,  genial  temperament,  and,  in  the  gayety  of  youth, 
he  sang  the  praises  of  love  and  wine.  But  he  had,  beyond 
this,  a  genius  for  practical  life,  and  a  shrewd  common  sense, 
which  made  success  certain  in  whatever  enterprise  he  might 
undertake.  The  liberal  spirit  of  the  Ionians  opened  to  him 
various  roads  to  the  retrieving  of  his  dilapidated  fortunes. 
He  chose  commerce.  The  city  of  Athens  was  adapted  to 
foreign  trade,  not  only  by  the  lively  genius  of  her  inhabitants, 
but  by  the  advantages  of  her  natural  situation.  With  the 
beautiful  harbors  of  Peiraeus  and  Munychia  and  the  Bay  of 
Phalerum  only  four  miles  off,  the  products  of  the  world  could 
be  easily  and  safely  brought  to  her  door.  Solon  engaged  in 
foreign  commerce,  travelled  to  distant  lands,  and  sought  not 
only  pecuniary  gain,  but  the  acquaintance  of  the  wise  and 
good  wherever  he  went.  It  is  probable  that  the  pleasant 
manners  and  instructive  conversation  of  the  Athenian  mer- 
chant made  him  everywhere  a  welcome  guest ;  but  I  am 
afraid  we  must  reject,  on  chronological  grounds,  the  beautiful 
tale  so  spiritedly  told  by  Herodc*us,  and  repeated  by  subse- 


78  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

quent  historians,  of  his  interview  with  Croesus  and  its  dramatic 
issue. 

At  all  events,  we  must  suppose  that  Solon  was  successful  in 
his  business  enterprises,  and  that  he  returned  to  Athens  with 
at  least  a  competent  fortune.  He  had  the  temperament  and 
genius,  I  do  not  say  of  a  politician,  but  of  a  statesman.  With 
a  capacious  mind,  which  united  sound  knowledge,  unerring 
judgment,  a  calm  and  cheerful  temper,  to  a  brilliant  imagina- 
tion, a  ready  eloquence,  and  high  poetical  ability,  he  gained, 
without  the  need  of  demagogic  arts,  the  affections  of  the  people 
as  well  as  the  confidence  of  the  Eupatrids.  On  one  occasion 
only  did  he  resort  to  a  trick.  The  Athenians  had  often  unsuc- 
cessfully attempted  to  wrest  Salamis  from  Megara,  and  in  a 
moment  of  disgust  they  made  it  a  capital  crime  to  propose  a  re- 
newal of  the  attempt.  They  soon  repented  of  this  hasty  piece 
of  legislation,  but  no  one  dared  to  hazard  his  life  by  moving 
to  set  it  aside.  Solon  caused  a  rumor  to  be  circulated  that  he 
was  insane  ;  and  having  written  a  war-poem,  of  which  six  or 
eight  lines  are  preserved,  he  rushed  like  a  madman  into  the 
Agora,  collected  a  crowd  of  by-standers  around  him,  and  re- 
cited the  verses  with  the  enthusiasm  of  a  rhapsodist,  rebuking 
the  Athenians  for  their  cowardice,  and  declaring  that  he  would 
rather  be  a  citizen  of  the  most  contemptible  town  in  Greece, 
than  be  pointed  at  as  one  of  those  Athenian  dastards  who  had 
abandoned  their  right  to  Salamis.  The  people  made  all  haste 
to  rescind  the  law,  and  appointed  Solon  commander  of  the  ex- 
pedition. He  drove  the  Megarians  from  Salamis,  which  from 
that  time  onward  continued  to  be  an  integral  part  of  the  Attic 
territory. 

He  was,  soon  afterward,  sent  as  a  deputy  from  Athens  to  the 
Amphictyonic  Council  held  at  Delphi,  where  he  took  part  with 
the  Delphian  priesthood  against  the  Amphissians,  who  had  been 
guilty  of  some  encroachments  on  the  sacred  territory,  the  de 
tails  of  which  we  have  from  jEschines,  in  the  Oration  agains\ 
Ctesiphon.  This  transaction,  I  fancy,  combined  both  policy 
and  a  sense  of  justice,  —  policy,  in  securing  the  good  will  of  so 


SOLON   AND    HIS   LAWS  79 

powerful  an  institution  as  the  priesthood  of  Apollo  at  Delphi, 
and  justice,  in  repelling  an  invasion  of  their  property  by  a 
rude  and  semi-barbarous  neighboring  tribe.  What  he  really 
thought  of  the  supernatural  pretensions  of  the  institution  does 
not  appear. 

In  the  following  year,  B.  C.  594,  he  was  chosen  Archon, 
and,  on  account  of  the  troubles  in  the  state,  was  clothed  with 
unlimited  powers  to  make  such  reforms  in  the  Constitution  as 
might  appear  to  him  for  the  public  advantage,  all  orders  unan- 
imously consenting.  He  devoted  himself  to  the  noble  task 
—  one  well  worthy  of  his  vast  capacity  —  in  a  spirit  of  disin- 
terested devotion  to  his  country,  which  contributed  largely  to 
make  that  country  the  illustrious  power  she  became,  and  which 
is  daily  felt  in  the  enactment  of  laws  and  the  administration  of 
justice  all  over  the  civilized  world.  If  Athens  was  fortunate 
in  possessing  such  a  citizen  in  such  a  crisis,  Solon  was  no  less 
fortunate  in  having  so  magnificent  an  opportunity  to  advance 
the  welfare  of  his  country  and  to  confer  immortal  benefits  on 
the  world.  His  first  measures  were  to  relieve  the  people  from 
the  pressure  of  the  burdens  that  weighed  them  down.  This 
he  did  by  recalling  from  slavery  all  Athenians  whom  debt  had 
sent  into  domestic  or  foreign  bondage,  and  by  prohibiting 
forever  the  practice  of  selling  or  being  sold  into  slavery  in 
satisfaction  for  debt.  Next,  he  framed  an  enactment  called 
aeiaa^deia, —  or  shaking  off  of  burdens, — by  which  he  relieved 
the  debtors  either  of  the  interest  due  on  their  obligations  or 
of  a  portion  of  the  debts  themselves,  —  a  measure  founded 
upon  the  same  principle  and  to  be  justified  by  the  same  rea- 
soning as  a  modern  bankrupt  act.  Finally,  he  lowered  the 
standard  of  the  coinage  by  dividing  the  mina  into  a  hundred  in- 
stead of  seventy-three  drachmas ;  so  that,  the  drachma  being  the 
unit  of  the  currency,  seventy-three  old  drachmas  would  pay  a 
debt  of  a  hundred.  This  measure  was  more  objectionable  than 
either  of  the  others ;  and  it  ha»  been  imitated  too  often  since 
Solon's  day.  It  led  in  his  case,  as  it  has  since  in  similar  cases, 
Jo  speculation   in  advance  of  the   coming  measure.     Certain 


80  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

persons,  who  were  aware  of  what  was  to  be  done,  bought 
estates,  and  paid  for  them  afterwards  in  the  new  currency, — a 
transaction  of  such  a  nature  that  the  character  of  Solon  might 
have  been  damaged  by  it,  had  he  not  lost,  fortunately  for  him- 
self and  for  all  future  ages,  a  large  amount  on  the  money  he 
had  himself  lent,  which  was  repaid  at  the  new  rate.  Solor 
next  repealed  most  of  the  laws  of  Draco,  except  those  relating 
to  murder. 

The  old  Constitution  was  an  oligarchy,  the  powers  of  gov- 
ernment being  confined  to  the  class  of  Eupatridee.  Solon  laid 
the  foundation  of  the  new  government  on  a  different  principle. 
For  birth  he  substituted  property  ;  for  an  oligarchy  a  timoc- 
racy.  He  divided  the  citizens  into  four  classes,  according  to 
their  income  reckoned  in  measures  of  corn.  The  first  class 
were  called  the  Pentacosiomedimni,  consisting  of  those  whose 
income  was  five  hundred  medimni  and  upward,  —  a  medimnus 
being  about  a  bushel  and  a  half.  The  second  class  consisted 
of  those  whose  income  ranged  between  five  hundred  and  three 
hundred,  called  Hippeis,  or  horsemen,  (KnighU,~)  since  they 
were  expected  to  furnish  each  a  war-horse.  The  third  class 
were  those  whose  income  ranged  from  three  hundred  to  two 
hundred  medimni,  and  were  called  Zeugitce,  because  they  were 
able  to  keep  a  %evyo<;,  a  yoke  of  oxen  for  the  plough.  The 
fourth,  or  lowest  class,  consisted  of  all  those  whose  income  fell 
below  two  hundred  medimni.  They  were  called  Thetes,  a 
word  which  ordinarily  signified  hirelings.  The  first  three 
glasses  were  taxed  according  to  the  amount  of  their  property  ; 
the  fourth  was  wholly  exempt  from  taxation.  The  archonship 
and  the  higher  offices  of  state  were  open  only  to  the  first  class. 
The  inferior  offices  might  be  attained  by  members  of  the 
second  and  third  classes.  The  members  of  the  fourth  class, 
as  an  offset  for  their  exemption  from  taxation,  were  excluded 
from  public  offices  ;  and  they  were  required  to  serve  in  wai 
only  as  light-armed  troops. 

Solon  instituted,  or  remodelled,  a  public  assembly,  in  whicV 
til  the  four  classes  took  part,  and  allowed  the  lowest  class  the 


SOLON  AND   HIS   LAWS  81 

right  to  vote,  thus  imparting  a  substantial  political  power  to  all 
Athenian  freemen.  They  had  the  right  of  voting,  not  only  on 
ordinary  matters  of  legislation,  but  in  the  elections  of  the  ar- 
chons,  who  were  also  accountable  to  them  at  the  close  of  their 
year  of  office.  As  a  counterpoise  to  this  popular  body,  Solon 
created  a  Council  of  Four  Hundred,  who  were  to  be  elected 
by  the  assembly,  one  hundred  from  each  of  the  old  Ionic 
tribes,  which  were  left  unchanged.  The  senators  held  their 
office  for  a  year,  and  were  accountable  to  the  people  at  its 
close.  This  ancient  Senate,  or  Council  of  the  Areopagus,  had 
the  general  supervision  of  the  laws,  and  exercised  a  censorial 
power  over  the  morals  and  occupations  of  the  citizens. 

Under  this  general  organization,  Solon  made  numerous  laws 
regulating  the  public  and  private  life  of  the  Athenians ;  but 
though  they  were  carefully  preserved,  inscribed  on  wooden 
rollers  and  tablets,  only  a  few  fragments  here  and  there  quoted 
by  the  ancient  writers  have  come  down  to  us.  There  were 
several  for  the  encouragement  of  trade  and  manufactures,  and 
for  establishing  the  rights  of  foreign  residents.  There  was  one 
requiring  the  father  to  teach  his  son  some  trade  or  profession ; 
and  if  this  duty  was  neglected,  the  son  was  not  obliged  to  sup- 
port his  father  in  old  age  or  misfortune.  Another  law  dis- 
franchised the  citizen  who  refused  to  take  sides  in  civil  discord. 
The  laws  relating  to  marriages  were  designed  to  prevent 
matches  from  being  made  from  any  other  motive  than  affec- 
tion. Another  law  forbade  the  speaking  evil  of  the  dead ;  for 
it  is  pious  to  think  the  deceased  sacred,  just  not  to  meddle 
with  those  who  are  gone,  and  politic  to  prevent  the  perpetuity 
of  discord.  By  the  law  regulating  wills,  the  childless  citizen 
was  allowed  to  bequeath  his  estate  away  from  his  family  to 
whomsoever  he  pleased,  the  law  having  previously  made  the 
tstate  of  the  deceased  absolutely  the  property  of  his  family. 

Solon  committed  the  mistake  common  to  all  the  ancient  and 
luost  of  the  modern  lawgivers,  of  attempting  a  too  minute 
regulation  of  domestic  life.  He  undertook  to  prescribe  the 
walks,  feasts,  drives,  and  —  most  difficult  of  all  things  for  a 


82  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

legislator  of  the  ruder  sex  to  comprehend  —  the  dresses  of  the 
women.  When  they  walked  abroad  they  were  to  appear  in 
only  three  articles  of  dress,  and  neither  of  these  was  a  crino- 
line. They  were  to  take  at  once  only  an  obol's  (two  cents) 
worth  of  meat  and  drink ;  they  were  never  to  carry  a  basket 
more  than  a  Cubit  high  ;  and  at  night  they  were  not  allowed 
to  appear  in  the  streets,  except  in  a  chariot  with  a  torch  before 
them.  These  enactments  were  probably  ineffectual.  It  is  not 
surprising  that  he  fell  into  this  error.  Legislation  interfering 
with  private  usages,  fashions,  food,  drink,  and  expenditure  in 
general  has  not  even  now,  with  all  the  experience  of  the 
world,  passed  out  of  the  dreams  of  reformers.  Solon's  laws 
were  as  unobjectionable  as  any  that  were  ever  enacted  on  this 
class  of  subjects.  If  they  were  not  enforced,  no  great  harm 
was  done  to  manners  or  morals. 

In  general,  his  legislation  was  of  the  most  practical  descrip- 
tion, and  admirably  adapted  to  the  actual  state  of  things.  The 
relief  afforded  to  the  commonwealth  was  instantaneous  and 
effectual ;  but  the  carrying  out  of  a  new  code  is  always  a 
matter  of  some  difficulty.  It  takes  time,  patience,  and  good 
sense  to  bring  about  the  necessary  adjustments  between  the 
old  and  the  new,  and,  by  a  series  of  authoritative  interpreta- 
tions, to  make  the  practice  and  the  theory  fixed  and  perma- 
nent. Solon  had  his  troubles.  He  was  worried  with  constant 
applications  to  know  what  this  or  that  proviso  in  this  or  that 
law  could  possibly  mean.  Disputes  were  referred  to  him  ; 
complaints  and  criticisms  were  brought  to  him.  In  short,  he 
*Dund  himself  in  a  more  uncomfortable  position  than  a  commit- 
tee for  the  revision  of  the  statutes,  with  a  legislature  at  their 
heels.  It  became  intolerable.  He  hired  a  ship,  and  again  set 
out  on  his  travels  for  ten  years,  having  first  secured  the  adop- 
tion of  his  laws  for  a  hundred  years.  He  went  to  Cyprus, 
next  to  Asia,  and  then  to  Egypt,  where  he  became  acquainted 
with  the  priests  of  Sais,  and  learned  the  curious  legend  about 
the  Atlantic  Island.  He  had  hardly  turned  his  back  on  Ath- 
ens, when  the  discords  between  the  mountain,  the  plain,  and 


SOLON  AND  HIS  LAWS.  83 

the  sea-shore  broke  out  afresh,  each  party,  under  an  able  and 
ambitious  chieftain,  struggling  for  supremacy.  We  may  re- 
mark that  the  Constitution  of  Solon  created  no  single  execu- 
tive head ;  but  the  powers  which  belong  to  this  department 
of  government  were  distributed  among  the  great  bodies  and 
the  higher  magistrates  of  the  state.  This  circumstance  opened 
the  way  for  an  individual  to  exercise  a  controlling,  if  not  a 
sovereign  influence,  without  exposing  himself  to  the  direct 
charge  of  treason,  or  of  an  attempt  to  overthrow  the  existing 
government. 

Of  the  three  leaders  who  came  prominently  forward  in  the 
absence  of  Solon,  Peisistratus  was  the  ablest  and  the  most  as- 
piring. He  claimed  to  be  descended  from  no  less  a  personage 
than  the  Pylian  Nestor,  the  aged  counsellor  of  Agamemnon, 
and  he  was  distantly  related  to  Solon,  whom  he  had  aided 
in  the  attack  on  Salamis.  He  was  remarkable  for  personal 
beauty,  intellectual  endowments,  eloquence,  and  military  tal- 
ent. The  party  of  the  mountain  was  the  most  democratic 
and  the  most  numerous.  Peisistratus  put  himself  forward  as 
its  leader,  and  became  the  professed  friend  and  patron  of  the 
poor.  He  opened  his  gardens  to  the  people,  and  scattered 
money  in  the  streets.  He  had  a  pleasant  word  and  a  cordial 
salutation  for  every  hard-handed  laborer  whom  he  met  in 
his  daily  walks  ;  so  early  do  the  arts  of  popularity  spring 
up  in  a  free  country.  The  quarrels  between  the  factions  had 
not  come  to  a  head  when  Solon  returned,  B.  C.  562,  and 
attempted,  by  personal  influence,  to  reconcile  the  leaders  and 
restore  harmony  among  the  divided  orders  of  the  state.  He 
was  respectfully  listened  to,  especially  by  his  kinsman  and  old 
friend  Peisistratus ;  but  that  was  all.  Solon,  convinced  tha* 
Peisistratus  was  determined  to  execute  his  design  of  placing 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  state,  endeavored,  by  speech  and 
•ong,  to  put  the  people  on  their  guard ;  but  in  vain.  When 
the  time  was  ripe,  the  scheming  demagogue  appeared  in  the 
Agora,  drawn  in  his  chariot  by  mules,  and  covered  with 
wounds,  pretending  he  had  received  them  from  the  hands  ol 


84  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE 

assassins  as  he  was  driving  into  the  country.  The  multitude, 
indignant  at  this  attempt  on  the  life  of  the  friend  of  the  people, 
granted  him  a  body-guard  of  fifty  club-men,  against  the  remon- 
strances of  Solon,  who  saw  through  the  trick,  and  was  the 
only  man  who  had  courage  to  expose  and  denounce  it.  This, 
too,  was  all  in  vain.  The  friend  of  the  people  had  everything 
in  his  own  way,  and  increased  the  number  of  his  body-guard 
without  opposition.  Solon's  verses,  vigorous  and  prophetic  as 
they  were,  fell  on  unheeding  ears,  and  some  said  he  was  mad. 
In  the  year  560  B.  C,  Peisistratus  seized  the  Acropolis,  and 
was  master  of  the  city,  and  the  leaders  of  the  other  parties  fled. 
But  he  was  soon  compelled  to  quit  Athens  by  a  combination  of 
the  opposite  factions ;  nor  did  he  return  until  six  years  later, 
when  an  arrangement  was  made  with  Megacles,  the  leader  of 
the  aristocratic  party,  for  his  restoration  to  power. 

Herodotus  relates,  and  the  story  was  often  repeated,  that  the 
following  device  was  resorted  to  by  the  conspirators.  They 
found  in  a  village,  a  few  miles  outside  of  the  city,  a  young 
peasant  woman  named  Phya,  of  extraordinary  stateliness  and 
beauty,  who  supported  herself  by  selling  garlands.  They  per- 
suaded this  damsel  to  personate  the  goddess  Athene  ;  the\ 
armed  her  with  a  splendid  panoply,  including  shield,  helmet, 
and  spear,  and,  placing  her  in  the  chariot  side  by  side  with 
Peisistratus,  conducted  them,  in  the  midst  of  loud  applauses 
from  the  deluded  multitude  and  the  proclamation  of  heralds, 
into  the  city,  —  the  people  accepting  the  man  for  their  master, 
and  worshipping  the  woman  as  a  goddess.  Herodotus  considers 
this  affair  as  a  proof  of  the  simplicity  or  folly  of  the  Athenians. 
I  used  to  regard  it  in  that  light  myself,  and  even  doubted  the 
truth  of  the  story ;  but  of  late  years  I  have  seen  so  many  per- 
sons, who  pass  for  persons  of  sense,  imposed  upon  by  tricks  so 
much  less  ingenious  than  that  of  Peisistratus,  that  I  rather 
wonder  he  did  not  call  up  or  down  all  the  gods  and  goddesses 
of  Olympus  to  aid  him  in  his  imposture. 

Driven  a  second  time  into  exile,  Peisistratus  withdrew  te 
Euboea.     Ten  years  were  spent  in  collecting  the  means  of  a 


SOLON  AND  HIS   LAWS.  85 

second  restoration.  When  all  was  in  readiness,  he  crossed 
over  to  Marathon,  and,  marching  round  the  southern  spur  of 
Per.telicus,  entered  the  Mesoga?a,  or  Midland  region.  Here 
he  was  encountered  by  an  armed  force  from  the  city,  which  he 
defeated,  and  then  entered  Athens  without  opposition,  becom- 
ing tyrant  for  the  third  time.  The  power  descended,  at  his 
death,  to  his  two  sons,  Hipparchus  and  Hippias,  the  former  of 
whom  was  assassinated  in  the  year  514  B.  C ;  and  the  latter, 
who  had  become  a  jealous  and  cruel  tyrant  since  his  brother's 
death,  was  driven  from  Athens  four  years  later. 

This  closed  the  period  of  the  Peisistratidas.  The  founder  of 
the  house  used  his  power  thus  lawlessly  obtained  with  discre- 
tion and  wisdom.  He  favored  the  arts  and  literature.  He 
surrounded  himself  with  distinguished  poets  from  every  part  of 
Greece.  He  caused  the  poems  of  Homer  to  be  carefully  re- 
vised and  rearranged,  and  ordained  that  they  should  be  pub- 
licly read  at  stated  times,  so  that  the  Athenian  people  from 
that  period  were  generally  quite  familiar  with  those  marvellous 
works  of  genius,  —  a  fact  which  exercised  a  most  important 
influence  on  their  literary  culture.  He  commenced  the  great 
Temple  of  Olympian  Zeus,  which  was  not  finished  until  Ha- 
drian's reign,  six  hundred  years  later.  Fifteen  magnificent  Co- 
rinthian columns,  standing  on  the  ancient  platform,  still  attest 
the  grandeur  of  the  design.  Notwithstanding  the  strenuous 
opposition  of  Solon  to  this  usurpation  of  Peisistratus,  he  always 
treated  the  great  lawgiver  with  the  most  profound  respect ; 
sought  his  counsel  on  the  most  important  occasions ;  even 
gained  his  approbation  for  many  of  his  measures.  He  indeed 
carried  on  the  government  through  the  instrumentality  of  the 
institutes  of  Solon  ;  and  had  the  place  he  filled  been  one  pro- 
vided for  by  the  Constitution,  and  won  by  legal  means,  he 
would  have  been  the  object  of  reverence  and  gratitude  to  all 
succeeding  ages  of  his  countrymen.  And  we  may  say  that  his 
career  as  an  unconstitutional  ruler  shows  a  defect  in  the  Con- 
stitution itself ;  and  it  would  have  been  well  if,  in  the  changes 
it  underwent  in  the  hands  of  subsequent  reformers,  it  had  oc- 


86  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

curred  to  any  one  of  them  to  add  an  article  providing  for  the 
election  of  an  executive  chief-magistrate,  with  all  the  powers 
which  naturally  belong  to  that  office. 

Solon  did  not  long  survive  the  usurpation  of  Peisistratus. 
He  died  a  year  or  two  afterwards,  at  the  age  of  eighty.  I  do 
not  think  the  Athenian  estimate  of  this  great  man  at  all  exag- 
gerated. Few  men  in  history  have  shown  such  disinterested- 
ness, such  consummate  ability,  such  knowledge  of  human  na- 
ture. When  he  was  clothed  with  absolute  power,  some  of 
his  friends  urged  him  to  make  himself  permanently  a  despot, — 
a  step  he  might  easily  have  taken,  with  the  consent  and  ap- 
plause of  all  classes  in  the  commonwealth.  To  most  men  the 
temptation  would  have  been  irresistible ;  and  the  standard  of 
political  virtue,  which  caused  the  rejection  of  the  advice,  was 
wonderfully  high  in  that  age,  and  would  be  high  in  any  age. 
When  the  proposal  was  made  to  him,  he  replied  in  his  kindly 
way,  "  Tyranny  is  a  pleasant  country,  no  doubt ;  but  there  is 
no  road  out  of  it,"  —  showing  how  well  he  understood  its  at- 
tractions and  its  dangers.  He  was  fond  of  leisure,  and  had 
a  temperate  love  of  the  delights  of  social  life ;  but  when  the 
occasion  required  it,  he  showed  a  fearless  and  adamantine  firm- 
ness. He  rebuked  the  people  for  their  follies ;  he  withstood  the 
usurper,  though  his  own  kinsman  and  former  friend,  face  to 
face,  at  the  hazard  of  his  own  life.  Of  his  genius  and  accom- 
plishments, the  ancients  always  spoke  with  admiration.  He 
would  have  been  superior  to  Homer,  said  Plato,  if  he  had 
finished  his  poem  on  the  lost  Atlantis.  ^Eschines  calls  him  a 
man  well  skilled  in  philosophy  and  poetry.  His  Salaminian 
Ode,  of  which  only  a  small  fragment  is  preserved,  was  thought 
equal  to  the  lyrics  of  Tyrtams.  The  other  fragments  of  his 
verse  are  nervous  and  pointed,  and  abound  in  admirable  po- 
etical images.  They  give  us  an  idea  of  what  he  might  and 
vould  have  done  had  he  dedicated  his  life  to  poetry.  The 
following  passage,  from  one  of  his  warning  appeals  against  the 
usurpations  of  his  kinsman,  is,  I  think,  beautiful  for  justness  of 
sentiment  and  elegance  of  illustration. 


SOLON   AND   HIS  LAWS.  87 

•  Out  of  the  clouds  the  snow-flakes  are  poured,  and  fury  of  hailstorm  ; 

After  the  lightning's  flash  follows  the  thunderous  bolt ; 
Tossed  by  the  winds  is  the  sea,  though  now  so  calmly  reposing, 

Hushed  in  a  motionless  rest,  image  of  justice  and  peace. 
So  is  the  state  by  its  great  men  ruined,  and  under  the  tyrant 

Sinks  the  people  unwise,  yielding  to  slavery's  thrall ; 
Nor  is  it  easy  to  humble  the  ruler  too  highly  exalted, 

After  the  hour  is  passed.     Now  is  the  time  to  foresee." 

"I  grow  old,  ever  learning  many  things,"  was  Solon's  ex- 
pression, and  it  might  be  taken  as  the  formnla  of  his  experience. 
The  moderation  of  his  temper  and  his  cheerful  views  of  life, 
notwithstanding  the  severity  of  the  trials  through  which  he 
passed,  and  to  which  he  was  by  no  means  insensible,  are  truly 
admirable.  He  prays  the  gods  to  grant  him  prosperity  and 
the  good  opinion  of  men.  He  desires  wealth,  but  not  to  gain 
it  unjustly.  Thus  genial,  temperate,  enjoying  ;  thus  kind,  be- 
neficent, patriotic  ;  ready  to  serve  friends  and  country  ;  prompt 
to  check  the  wrong-doer,  and  to  cheer  on  the  brave  and  the 
good  ;  taking  the  gifts  of  the  gods  thankfully,  and  using  them 
as  they  were  meant  to  be  used ;  finally,  praying  that  death 
might  overtake  him  at  eighty  years,  and  his  prayer  literally 
answered,  —  I  must  apply  to  Solon  the  standard  of  felicity  he 
applied  to  others.  I  must  pronounce  him  happy  who  closed 
such  a  life  without  suffering  calamity. 

In  the  principal  features  of  his  character,  Solon  was  a  good 
specimen  of  the  Ionian  Greek,  as  Lycurgus  well  represented 
the  Dorian  Greek  ;  and  his  institutions  embodied  the  Ionian 
legislative  genius,  as  those  of  Lycurgus  embodied  the  legisla- 
tive genius  of  the  Dorians.  The  laws  of  Solon  were  founded 
on  human  nature,  and  their  principles  are  therefore  suited  for 
all  times.  Those  of  Lycurgus  were  fitted  to  the  Dorian  dis- 
tortion of  nature,  and  their  principles  vanished  when  the  Do- 
rian fanaticism  was  over.  The  orators  of  Athens  were  fond  of 
appealing  to  Solon  as  the  founder  of  the  democracy.  Perhaps 
they  carried  this  practice  a  little  too  far,  making  him  appear  to 
be  responsible  for  developments  of  the  democratic  principle 
which  he  never  dreamed  of.     That  Solon  placed  the  govorn- 


88  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

ment  to  a  great  degree  in  the  hands  of  the  people,  by  giving 
them  the  elective  franchise,  and  by  making  all  the  high  offi- 
cers of  the  state  accountable  to  them,  is  most  true ;  and  it  is 
true  that  this  admission  of  the  will  of  the  people  as  the  source 
of  power,  and  the  judgment  of  the  people  as  the  tribunal  before 
which  the  exercise  of  power  is  to  be  passed  upon,  logically  and 
historically  involves  all  the  extensions  of  the  popular  princi- 
ple that  ensued  in  the  succeeding  stages  of  the  Athenian  re- 
public. But  Solon  was  not  insensible  to  the  danger  of  giving 
unrestrained  scope  to  the  popular  will.  In  the  restriction 
which  he  laid  upon  the  assembly,  by  requiring  that  every  meas- 
ure should  be  initiated  by  the  more  select  body  of  the  senate 
before  the  assembly  could  consider  it,  and  in  the  general  pow- 
ers of  supervision  with  which  he  clothed  the  court  of  the  Are- 
opagus, he  thought  he  had  provided  two  anchors,  as  he  ex- 
pressed it,  to  steady  the  ship  of  state.  He  had  combined  the 
element  of  popular  will  with  a  wise  barrier  against  its  excesses, 
—  a  conception  of  the  functions  of  a  free  government  which 
does  the  greatest  honor  to  his  comprehensive  statesmanship.  In 
some  of  the  details  of  his  legislation  he  was  induced,  as  I  have 
already  shown,  by  the  desirableness  of  certain  personal  vir- 
tues, to  "attempt  too  minute  an  interference  with  private  life. 
Again,  if  it  be  true  that  he  forbade  the  exportation  of  all  the 
products  of  the  country  except  oil,  his  political  economy  was  at 
fault ;  nor  do  I  understand  how  he  could  have  expected  com- 
merce, which  is  exchange,  to  flourish  at  Athens,  without  ex- 
ports as  well  as  imports.  Perhaps,  in  this  matter,  our  informa- 
tion is  too  imperfect  to  enable  us  to  form  a  trustworthy  opinion. 
On  another  point  he  showed  consummate  wisdom.  He  knew 
that  the  soil  of  Attica  was  light,  and  its  agricultural  capabilities 
not  remarkable  ;  and  yet  the  power  of  the  commonwealth  con- 
sisted in  its  men,  —  in  a  dense  body  of  citizens,  living  not  in  a 
kind  of  close  corporation,  like  the  nine  thousand  Spartans  of 
Lyeurgus,  who  spent  their  time  in  idleness  or  in  gymnastic  and 
warlike  exercises,  but  dispersed,  and  employed  in  varied  occu- 
pations.    He  saw  that,  to  support  such  a  population,  a  life  of 


SOLON  AND  HIS  LAWS.  89 

industry  was  absolutely  essential;  and  he  therefore  encour- 
aged manufactures,  trades,  arts,  ornamental  and  useful.  In 
this  respect,  starting  from  his  wise  legislation,  Attica  subse- 
quently became  not  only  the  school  of  the  fine  arts  and  litera- 
ture, but  the  workshop  of  Greece ;  and  in  nothing  was  her  pre- 
eminence more  marked  than  in  the  trades,  handicrafts,  and 
domestic  manufactures,  of  which  she  set  the  example  and  fur- 
nished the  models  to  all  Greece. 

The  administration  of  justice  was  not  so  thoroughly  organized 
in  Solon's  Constitution  as  it  afterwards  became.  It  was  dis- 
tributed among  the  archons,  the  Areopagus,  and  perhaps  the 
court  of  the  Ephetse,  which  some  believe  to  have  been  orga- 
nized by  him,  though  others  refer  it  to  a  later  period.  We 
have  not  many  details  which  can  be  fully  trusted  on  this  part 
of  the  Constitution ;  but  we  may  believe  that  a  fair  trial,  the 
right  of  defence,  and  exemption  from  arbitrary  and  individual 
caprice,  were  established  principles  of  the  judiciary  system. 
The  relations  of  domestic  life  were  well  guarded,  and  the  mar- 
riage-bond was  treated  as  sacred  and  inviolable. 

As  contrasted  with  the  legislation  of  Lycurgus,  I  see  every- 
where among  the  fragments  of  Solon's  system  marks  of  a  supe- 
rior wisdom  and  a  loftier  humanity.  They  had  different  materi- 
als to  work  with ;  they  both  intended  to  adapt  their  institutions 
to  the  practical  wants  of  the  people  ;  and  they  both  had  a 
ground-work  of  usages,  customs,  traditions,  and  establishments 
to  build  upon.  But  Solon  comprehended  the  entire  nature  of 
man,  —  the  forces  and  appetites  of  his  body,  the  faculties  of  his 
mind,  the  wants  of  his  social  nature.  He  had  nothing  of  what 
we  call  isms  about  him.  In  no  one  thing  was  he  an  extrem- 
ist. In  his  character,  more  than  most  even  of  the  Athenians, 
he  embodied  the  admirable  maxim,  —  so  rarely  practised  upon 
in  these  later  days,  but  wherever  it  is,  wonderful  in  its  results, 
—  firjSep  ayav,  —  "  nothing  to  excess  "  ;  and  the  same  rule  of 
just  proportion  runs  through  his  legislation.  When  asked  if 
he  thought  his  laws  ths  best  possible,  he  answered  modestly, 
but  with  the  highest  wisdom  :    "  Not  the  best  possible,  but  the 


90  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

best  the  people  will  bear."     So  utterly  free  was  he  from  the 
mischievous  dreaming  of  the  mere  speculative  reformer. 

These  institutions  were  the  making  of  the  Athenian  Demos, 
—  that  brilliant  personification  of  the  poets,  —  that  object  of 
respect  and  terror,  of  admiration  sometimes  and  sometimes 
of  hatred,  to  those  with  whom  it  came  in  contact  or  conflict. 
Of  the  popular  eloquence  in  Solon's  time,  nothing  has  reached 
us ;  but  there  were  eloquent  and  brave  men,  doubtless,  who 
made  their  words  felt  in  the  debates  of  the  assembly  and  the 
senate,  yet  who  never  thought  of  recording  them  for  the  study 
of  after  ages.  There  were  wise  statesmen  who  knew  how 
to  guide  the  storm  of  popular  passions,  and  to  sway  the  agi- 
tated multitude ;  but  they  did  it  as  a  matter  of  course,  which 
could  be  of  no  possible  concern  after  the  occasion  had  passed 
by.  Yet  a  system  of  public  life  was  set  in  motion  in  the  old 
Athenian  Agora  and  the  Pnyx,  which  was  to  determine  for- 
ever the  principles  of  statesmanship  and  the  forms  of  political 
eloquence.  Solon  could  not  have  imagined  the  consequences 
that  were  to  flow  from  the  work  he  accomplished  in  the  midst 
of  the  discords  of  Athens.  In  all  the  ages,  in  the  minds  of  all 
men  who  believe  in  the  reign  of  law,  and  not  disorder ;  of  hu- 
manity, and  not  barbarism ;  of  culture,  and  not  brutality ;  of 
cheerful  and  ingenious  industry,  and  not  insolent  idleness ;  of 
progress,  and  not  obstinate  and  unreasoning  adherence  to  what 
was  established  in  days  of  darkness,  but  cannot  bear  the  light ; 
of  intelligent  popular  freedom,  restrained,  by  the  sober  judg- 
ment of  age  and  experience,  from  rushing  into  the  perilous 
paths  of  license,  —  to  all  such,  in  all  times,  the  name  of  Solon, 
the  lawgiver  of  Athens,  will  remain  dear  and  venerable, 
crowned  with  the  imperishable  glory  of  transcendent  wisdom 
and  the  noblest  virtue.  In  his  institutions  we  find  the  germs 
of  the  Roman  law  and  the  common  law ;  and  —  more  surpris- 
ing still  —  we  find  there  the  principles  of  parliamentary  legis- 
lation, which  are  now  incorporated  into  the  constitution  of 
legislative  bodies  in  all  free  states.  I  doubt  whether  any  other 
man  has  exercised  so  wide  and  beneficent  an  influence  on  the 
fortunes  of  civilized  nations  as  Solon  the  Athenian. 


LECTURE    VI. 

THE   CONSTITUTION   OF   CLEISTHENES. 

In  the  last  Lecture  I  endeavored  to  give  a  sketch  of  the 
Constitution  of  Solon  the  Athenian,  and  of  the  personal  char- 
acter of  the  man.  On  both  these  points  we  have  the  author- 
ity of  ancient  writers,  and  to  some  extent  documentary  evi- 
dence. We  can,  therefore,  form  a  tolerably  distinct  conception 
of  the  general  drift  of  his  legislation  ;  we  can  discern  at  least 
the  principles  on  which  it  was  organized,  and  the  tendencies 
which  they  must  have  taken  in  their  historical  development. 
The  notices  and  anecdotes  handed  down  by  the  ancients,  and 
the  fragments  of  his  writings,  give  us,  I  think,  a  fair  picture 
of  his  personal  manners,  his  principles,  and  his  habits ;  and  few 
characters  compare  with  his  in  attractiveness.  As  1  walk  the 
streets  of  Athens,  I  fancy  I  see  his  cheerful  countenance  and 
manly  form,  as  he  moves  about  the  Agora,  with  kind  and  cour- 
teous salutations  for  the  citizens,  to  whom  his  presence  is  like 
sunlight,  —  to  many  of  whom  he  is  the  Saviour  Apollo,  who  has 
rescued  them  from  the  horrors  of  bondage,  and  restored  them 
to  their  humble,  but  now  happy  homes.  He  watches  with 
ceaseless  interest  the  busy  mart,  which  his  beneficent  label's 
have  reopened  to  commerce  with  its  attendant  train  of  public 
and  private  blessings ;  he  pauses  to  watch  the  artisan  at  work, 
and  cheers  him  on  with  friendly  words,  as  he  makes  his  way 
through  the  regenerated  city.  Quitting  the  narrow  streets, 
he  ascends  the  hill  of  Ares,  and  listens  to  the  pleadings  before 
the  venerable  court  whose  powers  he  has  confirmed  and  en- 
larged. Wherever  he  goes,  his  approach  is  welcomed  with 
smiles ;  and  after  «trolling  an  hour  or  two  about  the  city,  and 


X 


w 


92  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

gazing,  with  the  pleasure  a  poet  must  always  feel,  upon  the 
sunlit  heights  and  shores  of  his  beloved  Attica,  he  returns  to 
his  modest  house,  no  more  costly  than  the  dwellings  of  his 
neighbors,  and  resumes  the  studies  in  which  his  morning  has 
been  passed.  As  nightfall  approaches,  friends  drop  in,  the  tri- 
clinium is  spread,  a  pleasant  supper  is  served  by  prompt  and 
willing  servants,  and  the  evening  is  spent  in  animated  talk, 
with  now  and  then  a  song,  written  by  the  statesman  himself 
in  the  poetical  fervor  of  his  youth.  It  would  not  be  surprising 
if  temperate  libations  to  Dionysus  blamelessly  gladdened  the 
social  hour.  I  wish  we  had  his  early  poems,  —  the  wine  I 
should  not  care  for,  unless  it  was  much  better  than  the  resin- 
ous potations  in  which  his  modern  countrymen  indulge. 
-  The  Arision  passes,  and  we  go  back  to  Hippias  and  the  de- 
mocracy of  Athens.  After  the  final  downfall  of  the  house  of 
Peisistratus,  two  very  able  men  came  forward  as  competitors 
for  the  leadership  in  the  commonwealth,  Cleisthenes  and  Isago- 
ras; — the  former  descended  from  one  of  the  tyrants  of  Sicyon, 
of  the  same  name,  by  the  intermarriage  of  his  daughter  with 
Megacles ;  the  latter  also  a  man  of  noble  descent,  closely  allied 
with  Hippias,  and  with  his  Spartan  supporters.  Cleisthenes  be- 
came the  leader  of  the  popular,  and  Isagoras  of  the  oligarchical 
party.  CT^jsthflnfts  was  a  fripind  and  adherent  of  the  Solonjan 
Constitution ;  but  with  the  increased  tendency  to  more  enlarged 
principles  of  popular  government,  he  found  that  it  needed  to 
be  remodelled  in  several  important  particulars.  As  the  basis 
of  the_reconstrncted  commonwealth,  he  substituted  for  the  old 
Ionian  division  into  four  tribes,  which  was  not  well  suited  to 
a  growing  people,  a  dist.rihnt.ion  of  the  r.itizens  into  ten  tri)->esT 
which  he  named  after  ten  of  the  ancient  heroes,  Erechtheis, 
iEgeis,  Pandionis,  Leontis,  Acamantis,  (Eneis,  Cecropis,  Hip- 
pothoontis,  iEantis,  and  Antiochis.  Very  wisely,  these  tribes 
were  not  purely  geographical.  They  were  subdivided,  each 
into  ten  districts  or  boroughs,  called  Srjfioi,  —  denies,  —  but 
singularly  combined,  so  that  the  demes  constituting  a  tribe 
were  not  contiguous  to  one  another.     The  number  of  deme? 


THE   CONSTITUTION   OF   CLEISTHENES.  93 

was  afterwards  increased  from  one  hundred  to  between  a  hun- 
dred and  seventy  and  eighty,  occupying  the  whole  territory  of 
Attica.  In  public  documents  the  citizen's  name  was  given, 
generally  with  the  name  of  both  the  deme  and  the  tribe  to 
which  lie  belonged,  as  well  as  the  name  of  his  father.  The 
demes  and  tribes  had  their  special  organizations,  —  their  deme 
officers  and  tribe  officers,  their  feasts,  sacred  rites,  public  prop- 
erty, and  the  like ;  and  every  free  and  qualified  citizen  was 
entered  on  the  lists,  and  could  transfer  the  relations  thus  con- 
tracted, and  relieve  himself  from  the  duties  thus  imposed,  only 
by  certain  public  ceremonies',  by  which  he  left  the  old  society 
and  was  adopted  into  the  new.  The  system  of  tribes  regulated 
the  new  organization  of  the  state,  and  carried  out  the  demo- 
cratic principle  much  more  completely  than  the  old  order  of 
things,  inasmuch  as  it  determined  the  number  and  the  modes 


of  election  o'f  most  of  the  great  political  and  executive  bodies. 
( -7  yhe  nine  archons  were  still  retained.  The  duties  of  the  ar- 
■  chons  wei-p  partly  jnrlirntil  The  Archon  Eponymus  had  charge 
of  orphans  and  heiresses ;  all  the  cases  which  arose  in  relation 
to  their  affilirs  came  before  him  in  the  first  instance ;  and  if 
they  were  finally  referred  for  decision  to  one  of  the  courts,  he 
presided.  He  received  various  informations  and  complaints 
against  individuals,  and  prepared  them  for  trial ;  and,  finally, 
he  superintended  the  Greater  Dionysiac  Festival,  and  the  Thar- 
gelia  in  honor  of  Apollo  and  Artemis.  The  Archon  Basileus, 
or  king  archon,  was  chiefly  occupied  in  religious  affairs,  in 
which  he  represented  the  ancient  kings  in  their  function  of 
high-priest.  The  Polemarch,  as  the  name  indicates,  was  origi- 
nally the  commander-in-chief  of  the  army,  and  he  served  on 
the  field  as  late  as  the  battle  of  Marathon ;  afterwards,  his 
duties  were  restricted  to  the  home  administration,  and  were 
especially  connected  with  the  resident  aliens,  to  whom  he 
stood  in  the  same  relation  which  the  other  archons  bore  to  the 
citizens.  The  remaining  six,  the  Thesmothetae,  were  required 
to  make  an  annual  scrutiny  of  the  laws,  and,  if  any  were  found 
inconsistent  with  others,  or  redundant,  to  propose  amendments. 


94  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

They  were  also  extensively  concerned  in  the  general  adminis- 
tration of  justice,  and  had  charge  of  the  preliminary  proceed- 
ings in  a  great  variety  of  cases.  These  magistrates  were  ah 
elected  from  the  highest-property  class  of  Solon ;  but  the  office 
was  afterwards  thrown  open  to  all  the  Athenian  citizens. 

There  were  two  legislative  bodies^  1.  /The  JScclesia,  or  pop- 
ular assembly.  The  right- to  a  membership  of  this  body  was 
carefully  restricted  to  the  citizens;  and  citizenship  depended 
on  birth  from  parents  both  Athenian,  or  on  adoption.  The 
adopted,  however,  though  possessing  the  right  of  voting,  could 
not  become  archons  or  priests.  All  citizens  of  full  stanH1*"^ 
whose  names  had  been  registeredrin  the  Honks  of  flip  rlpmps, 
and  who  had  been  guilty  of  no  infamous  crime,  were  members 
of  the  Ecclesia  from  and  after  the  age  of  twenty,  and  all  had 
the  right  of  speaking  upon  every  question  laid  before  them._ 
The  usual  practice  was  ibr  the  herald,  or  public  crier,  to  ask 
who  of  the  citizens,  more  than  fifty  years  of  age,  desired  to 
address  the  people  ;  and  then  to  call  upon  any  other  citizen 
whe-4jad  anything  to  say. 

lheJ9oW£^)rsenate.  Solon's  senate  consisted,  you  will 
Jmber,  of  four  hundred,  taken  from  the  four  Ionic  tribes. 
This  arrangement  was  now  changed ;  the  number  was  raised 
J:o  five  hundred,  fifty  being  drawn  annually  from  each  tribe. 
A  substitute  for  every  senator  was  drawn  by  lot,  to  take  his 
place  in  case  of  the  illness,  inability,  or  degradation  of  the  prin- 
cipal. All  citizens,  in  full  standing,  of  thirty  years  of  age 
and  upward,  were  capable  of  being  drawn  into  the  senate. 
The  business  of  this  body  was  to  prepare  the  questions  that 
were  to  come  before  the  assembly.  They  also  controlled  the 
finances,  and  received  foreign  ministers.  A  bill  might  be  pro- 
posed by  a  private  citizen,  he  having  first  obtained,  on  petition, 
the  privilege  of  appearing  before  the  senate,  with  whose  ap- 
proval he  could  lay  his  proposition  before  the  people.  In  fact, 
»io  law  or  decree  could  come  before  the  assembly  without 
naving  first  been  approved  by  the  senate.  The  Boule*  was 
divided  into  ten  sections  of  fifty  each,  the  members  ot  wnicb 


THE    CONSTITUTION   OF    CLEISTHENES.  95 

Swere  called  Pryzaneis,  —  or  presidents,  —  because  a  member 
of  them  acted  as  presiding  officer  of  the  senate  or  assembly, 
the  members  from  each  tribe  holding  the  office  for  thirty-five 
or  thirty-six  days,  thus  dividing  the  year  into  ten  periods  called 
Prytanie*.  The  tribes  exercised  these  functions  in  succession, 
the  order  being  determined  by  lot.  Every  prytan  body  of  fifty 
was  divided  into  five  committees  of  ten  each  ;  and  its  period 
of  office  into  five  of  seven  days  each ;  so  that  ten  prytans  — 
called  irpoeSpot  (proedri) — divided  between  them  the  presi- 
dency for  seven  days.  The  president  of  the  day  was  called 
the  Mpistates,  and  during  his  day  he  kept  the  public  records 
and  the  seal  of  the  city.  In  some  cases  of  small  importance, 
the  senate  could  act  definitively  without  the  concurrence  of 
the  Ecclesia. 

The  business  of  legislation  was  therefore  carried  on  by  two 
bodies,  each  of  whir.h  aotpd  sppnratply  upon  the  matter  in 
hand.  The  more  select  body  originated  the  bill,  while  the 
Ecclesia  could  adopt  the  senate's  measure  in  whole  or  in  part, 
or  could  throw  it  out  altogether,  —  both  bodies  exercising  the 
largest  freedom  of  discussion.  It  does  not  appear  that  it  was 
necessary  to  send  an  amended  bill  back  to  the  senate  for  their 
concurrence.  This  may  perhaps  be  considered  as  an  offset  for 
the  absence  of  the  power  of  originating  measures  in  the  pop- 
ular assembly.  The  principle  established  by  this  arrangement 
is  the  important  one,  that  every  legislative  act  must  pass  be- 
fore two  bodies  differently  constituted.  There  was  no  execu- 
live.  head  endowed  with  the  power  of  vetoing  the  enactments 


jf  the  legislature.  Sometimes  the  people  instructed  the  senate 
to  act  finally  on  specific  subjects,  without  bringing  them  before 
the  Ecclesia.  The  senate  also  received  eisangelice,  or  informa- 
tions of  extraordinary  crimes  against  the  state,  for  which  no 
provision  had  been  made  by  the  laws.  These  cases  —  corre- 
sponding to  the  modern  impeachment  —  might  be  dismissed  by 
the  senate,  or  referred  for  trial  to  one  of  the  courts.  It  has 
been  mentioned  that  the  senate  had  the  charge  of  the  finances, 
in  tne  administration  of  this  department  representing  the  exe*** 


96  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS  OF   GREECE. 

utive  power,  while  the  legislative  authority,  regulating  the 
amount  of  expenditure  and  determining  the  sources  of  the  rev- 
enue, was  vested  in  the  popular  assembly.  The  senate,  says 
Boeckh,  arranged  the  appropriation  of  the  public  money,  even 
in  trifling  matters.  The  determination  of  the  salary  of  the 
poets,  the  superintendence  of  the  state  cavalry,  and  the  exami- 
nation of  the  infirm  maintained  at  the  cost  of  the  state,  are  spe- 
cially mentioned  among  its  duties.  The  public  debts  were  also 
paid  under  its  direction.  The  pry  tans  met  daily  at  the  Pry- 
taneum,  or  city-hall,  where  they  dined  together,  and  remained 
in  readiness  to  receive  any  communication  on  public  affairs. 
The  senate-house  was  called  the  Bouleuterion,  in  which  were 
chapels  to  Zeus  Boulaios,  the  god  of  counsel,  and  to  Athene 
Boulaia,  the  goddess  of  counsel,  —  in  both  of  which  prayers 
were  offered  before  the  business  of  the  meeting  was  opened. 

The  meetings  of  these  bodies  were  of  two  kinds,  ordinary 
and  extraordinary ;  —  the  former  held  on  stated  days,  appar- 
ently four  times  in  every  prytany,  those  of  the  senate  almost 
daily  ;  the  latter  summoned  on  the  occurrence  of  extraor- 
dinary or  alarming  events,  requiring  the  immediate  action  of 
the  government.  On  holidays,  —  and  these  were  pretty  fre- 
quent, —  as  on  the  saints'  days  of  the  Greek  Church,  —  no 
business  could  be  transacted,  whether  legislative  or  judicial. 
The  popular  assembly  was  held  at  first  in  the  Agora,  after- 
wards it  was  transferred  to  the  Pnyx,  and  in  later  times  it 
sometimes  met  in  the  great  Dionysiac  theatre.  Extraordinary 
assemblies  were  occasionally  convened  at  other  places,  even  as 
far  out  of  the  city  as  the  Peiraeus.  Meetings  could  be  called 
by  the  prytans,  or  by  the  generals  with  the  consent  of  the 
prytans  or  of  the  senate. 

The  pay  of  the  senators  was  a  drachma  for  every  day  on 
which  they  sat ;  of  the  ecclesiasts,  at  first  an  obol  (between 
two  and  three  cents),  afterwards  a  three-obol  piece.  It  seems 
probable  that  the  richer  class  attended  gratuitously,  and  that 
whe  fee  was  intended  to  enable  the  poorer  citizens  to  perform 
their  public  duties  without  too  much  interruption  and  damage 
to  their  private  affairs. 


THE   CONSTITUTION  OF  CLEISTHENES.  97 

For  the  administration  of  justice,  very  careful  provision 
was  made  in  the  amended  Constitution.  In  early  times  there 
were  five  places  where  courts  were  held  ;  and  under  the  new 
Constitution  the  number  was  increased.  A  large  amount  of 
business  was  transacted  by  the  courts  of  Dicetetce,  or  arbitra- 
tors, of  whom  there  were  two  classes,  public  and  private ;  — 
the  former  appointed  by  the  people,  probably  four  from  each 
tribe,  forty  in  all,  taken  by  lot  from  the  citizens  over  fifty  years 
of  age  ;  the  latter  selected  for  each  case  by  the  parties  con- 
cerned. The  Areopagus  exercised  judicial  functions  in  charges 
of  murder,  murderous  assault,  and  other  specified  crimes  of 
a  heinous  character ;  and  as  their  powers  were  somewhat 
vague,  under  the  general  authority  to  exercise  a  censorial 
oversight,  or  to  act  as  guardians  of  the  laws  and  as  superin- 
tendents of  public  order  and  decency,  they  could,  especially 
in  cases  of  great  emergency,  bring  almost  any  subject  or  person 
within  their  official  cognizance ;  so  that  it  is  not  at  all  surprising 
that  Pericles  was  anxious  to  limit  the  jurisdiction  of  this  body. 

The  most  important  tribunal,  however,  and  the  one  in  which 
the~citizens  were  most  deeply  concerned,  was  the  Helisea,  or 
the  Heliastic  court.  The  word  is  an  old  one,  in  use  among 
the  Dorians,  and  by  them  applied  to  the  public  assembly.  At 
Athens  it  was  always  used,  at  least  after  the  time  of  Cleis- 
thenes,  for  the  great  popular  tribunal.  The  members  of  this 
court  were  drawn  by  lot,  from  the  qualified  citizens  of  the 
ten  tribes  over  thirty  years  of  age.  They  were  chosen  under 
the  superintendence  of  the  nine  archons  and  their  secretary^ 
each  of  whom  drew  from  the  tribe  assigned  to  him  six  hun- 
dred persons.  The  whole  body  amounted  to  six  thousand,  who  ' 
were  liable  to  be  called  upon  as  dicasts,  or  jurymen,  during 
the  year.  They  "were  divided,  according  to  the  tribes,  into 
ten  sections  of  five  hundred  each,  leaving  a  thousand  super- 
numeraries to  fill  vacancies  or  to  attend  to  any  unusual 
cases.  All  the  members  of  each  section  belonged  to  the  same 
tribe.  The  sections  were  designated  by  the  first  ten  letters 
>f  the  alphabet,  from  A  tc    K  inclusive.     Trey  sat  in  eight 


98  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

or  ten  places,  including  some  of  the  five  places  of  the  aucien* 
courts.  The  dicasteria,  or  court-rooms,  were  painted  of  differ- 
ent colors,  and  each  had  a  letter  of  the  alphabet  inscribea 
over  the  entrance.  The  portion  of  the  court  occupied  by  the 
members  —  that  is,  the  dicasts,  the  parties  in  litigation,  the 
advocates,  and  the  presiding  officer  —  was  surrounded  by  a 
railing,  outside  of  which  there  was  room  for  spectators ;  and  on 
opposite  sides  were  stands — bemata — for  the  antagonist  speak- 
ers. In  ordinary  matters,  one  section  was  considered  sufficient 
for  the  adjudication  of  the  cause ;  in  extraordinary  cases,  some- 
times two  sections,  sometimes  three,  were  united.  The  judicial 
business  was  distributed  among  the  courts,  when  there  was 
more  than  one  of  them  could  attend  to  in  a  single  day  ;  and 
the  arrangement  of  the  sections  was  determined  by  lot.  The 
first  ten  letters  of  the  alphabet,  representing  the  ten  sections, 
were  thrown  into  one  urn ;  and  the  letters  of  the  several  dicas- 
teria, with  their  distinctive  colors,  into  another.  A  ticket,  or 
letter,  was  then  drawn  from  the  first,  which  would  designate 
the  section,  and  one  from  the  second,  which  would  designate 
the  court.  For  example,  suppose  that  a  number  of  cases  were 
to  be  tried,  and  the  letter  T  was  drawn  from  the  first  urn,  and 
a  yellow  A  from  the  second,  it  determined  that  the  P,  or  third 
section,  was  to  sit  in  that  one  of  the  dicasteria  which  was 
marked  with  A,  and  painted  yellow.  If  two  sections  were 
to  be  united,  two  letters,  for  instance  T  and  K,  were  drawn 
from  the  first  urn,  and  one  from  the  second,  —  B,  red,  it  may 
be,  —  signifying  that  the  third  and  tenth  sections  were  to  sit 
ogether  in  the  dicastery  marked  with  B  and  painted  red.  Each 
.ndividual  received  on  his  election  a  tablet  with  the  letter  of  his 
section  and  his  name,  as  a  certificate  of  his  appointment ;  and 
as  he  entered  the  court,  a  staff  was  presented  to  him  as  the 
emblem  of  his  office,  and  a  symbol,  or  ticket,  which,  on  being 
presented  at  the  proper  place,  entitled  him  to  his  Heliastic  fee 
This  was  a  three-obol  piece  (a  little  over  eight  cents)  for  each 
cause  he  tried.  The  court  was  opened  with  religious  ceremo- 
nies and  the  administration  of  a  judicial  oath. 


THE   CONSTITUTION   OF   CLEISTHENES.  99 

Let  me  in  this  place  remind  you  that  the  tribes  and  demes 
had  their  several   boards  of  public  functionaries,   their  local 
usages  and  associations,  and  their  funds  to  be  administered 
for  local  purposes.     I  must  also  explain  a  point  of  consider- 
able importance,  which  should  always  be  borne  in  mind  in 
speaking  of  the  Athenian  institutions  ;  and  that  is  the  pecu- 
liar relation  that  existed  between  Athens  and  Attica,  between 
the    capital    and   the  country.     While,  of  course,  there   was 
the   usual  difference    between  the  permanent  inhabitants  of 
the   city  and   the  permanent  inhabitants  of  the  country,   in 
manners,  education,  social  usages,  and  the  like,  yet,  politically 
speaking,   every   Attic   was  an   Athenian.      In   other  words, 
Athens,  as  the  centre  of  political  life,  belonged  as  much  to 
the  free-born   farmer  beyond  the  Ilissus  and   the  Cephissus, 
as   to   the   city-bred    gentleman    who    lounged    daily   in    the 
Agora.     The  people  in   the   country  had    as  much  right  to 
attend  the  meetings  of  the  assembly,  and  were  as  likely  to 
be  drawn  into  the   senate  and  the  dicasteries,  as  the  people 
who  were  crowded  in  the  narrow  streets  of  the  town.     And 
when  a  great  crisis  arrived,  it  was  customary  to  send  notice 
among  the  rustic  demes,  so  as  to  have  as  large  a  meeting  as  / 
possible.     Athens  was  the   political  homestead  of  all  Attica,    j 
The  magistrates  appointed,  whether  by  ballot  or  by  lot,  were     1 
as   likely  to  come  from  the  country  as  from  the  city.     The 
fire  was  constantly  kept  burning  in  the  Prytaneum,  and  the     \ 
hearth  of  the  Prytaneum  was  politically  the  hearth  of  the  resi-       J 
dents  in  Acharnae  and  Sunium,  no  less  than  of  the  club-men 
of  the  Diomeian  gate.     The  father  of  Demosthenes  belonged 
to  the  deme  of  Paeania,  of  the  tribe  Pandionis,  and  the  great     *\ 
statesman  was  born  in  Paeania,  just  at  the  entrance  into  the        \ 
Mesogaea,   where   an   old  grim  lion,   without  any  hind    legs,        1 
looks   gravely  upon   the    surrounding   solitude ;    yet   he   was 
none   the    less  entitled   to    his  share    in    the  associations  and 
privileges  of  the  civic  fireside.     The  number  of  these   local 
divisions,  it  has  already  been  said,  was  finally  not  less  than        / 
%  hundred  and  seventy  or  eighty  ;  the  names  of  a  hundred 


100  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

and  sixty-one  of  which  were  found  by  Dr.  Ludwig  Ross  in 
inscriptions. 

To  return  to  the  state  boards  of  officers  or  magistrates,  who 
were  appointed  by  one  of  the  two  modes  already  indicated,  — 
the  basis  of  the  election  was  generally  thp  diviainn  i"*r>  Hhea, 
one  magistrate  representing  each  tribe.  Next  to  the  archons 
in  the  administration  of  the  state  were  the  ten  generals,  who 
were  chosen  by  public  vote,  that  is,  by  hand-vote.  For  this 
office  certain  special  qualification*!  were  required,  which  seem  at 
first  sight  to  have  but  little  to  do  with  military  science.  The 
candidates  must  be  men  living  in  honorable  matrimony ;  they 
must  possess  landed  property ;  like  all  the  other  magistrates, 
they  were  subjected  to  a  rigid  scrutiny,  under  which  they  must 
show  that  they  possessed  these  qualifications  in  addition  to  com- 
mon citizenship ;  and  at  the  termination  of  the  official  period 
an  equally  rigid  system  of  accountability,  in  closing  the  affairs 
of  their  administration,  was  enforced. 

The  archons  were  at  first  elected  by  hand-vote,  but  after- 
wards, and  it  would  appear  from  the  time  of  Cleisthenes,  by 
lot.  They,  too,  were  subjected  to  the  same  law  of  scrutiny 
before  entering  upon  office,  and  of  accountability  at  the  close. 
Many  other  offices  were  distributed  by  lot  among  those 
legally  qualified ;  but  the  scrutiny  and  accountability  dimin- 
ished the  objections  that  might  be  theoretically  urged  against 
this  system,  and  the  public  was  still  further  secured  against 
the  mischiefs  that  might  have  been  anticipated  from  it  by 
an  additional  provision  that,  at  the  commencement  of  each 
prytany,  an  incompetent  or  unfaithful  officer  might  be  re- 
ferred to  a  public  vote,  and,  if  the  charge  were  proved  against 
him,  might  be  degraded  from  his  officety 

The  general  principles  of  the  new  Constitution  may  be 
briefly  stated  as  follows :-41.JThe  authority  of  the  state  was 
effectively  lodged  in  the  body  of  the  people,  by  the  extensive 
powers  conferred  on  the  popular  assembly,  especially  in  the 
.ater  periods  of  the  republic,  when  almost  every  subject,  both 
of   peace    and    war,    came    before   it   for   final    consideration 


THE   CONSTITUTION   OF   CLEISTHENES.  101 


fl> 


2.yThe  first  check  upon  this  power  was  found  in  the  annual 
senate,  which  alone  exercised  the  right  of  originating  measures 
of  government ;  but  that  check  was  again  counterchecked 
by  the  right  of  the  assembly  to  amend  a  proposition  sent 
down  by  the  senate,  to  reject  it,  or  to  substitute  another  on 
the   same   subject,   without  referring   it  again  to  the  senate. 

f  3.)  The  second  check,  as  in  the  Constitution  of  Solon,  was 
found  in  the  court  of  the  Areopagus,  which  still  consisted 
of  those  archons  who  had  faithfully  discharged  the  duties  of 
their  year  of  office,  and  who  held  their  seats  in  this  court 
for  life.  Aristotle  calls  this  an  oligarchical  body,  but  not  in 
a  bad  sense ;  though  its  power  might  be  easily  abused,  and  it 
would  not  have  been  easy  to  bring  any  member  of  it  under 
the  common  laws  of  the  state  for  a  breach  or  abuse  of  trust. 

(4.  J  The  influence  of  the  people  was  very  profoundly  felt  in 
the  courts  of  law,  especially  in  the  Heliastic  courts,  of  which 
the  members  were  so  numerous  that  Plato  classes  them  with 
other  mobs.  This  mode  of  trial  anticipated  in  part  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  jury  trial.  The  dicasts,  however,  were  judges 
and  jurymen  combined.  They  were  called  Enomotoi  (^ju- 
rors), sworn  triers  of  the  case  before  them;  but  they  were  not 
in  theory  the  peers  of  the  prisoner,  standing  to  defend  him 
from  the  government  considered  as  the  contending  partyA  they 
were  his  peers,  but  at  the  same  time  they"  were  a  popular 
assembly,  representing  the  sovereign  people  and  exercising  a 
function  of  government.  The  parties  appeared  before  them, 
and  argued  their  own  cases  to  the  best  of  their  ability,  often 
aided  by  the  written  arguments  of  others.  They  made  their 
own  statements,  produced  their  own  witnesses,  hunted  up  the 
laws,  had  such  passages  as  they  thought  applicable  to  their 
cases  read  by  the  secretary  of  the  court,  and  the  presiding 
officer  never  interfered.  When  the  vote  was  to  be  taken,  or, 
as  we  should  say,  the  verdict  rendered,  the  herald  called  upon 
those  who  thought  the  accused  guilty  to  hold  up  their  hands, 
which  were  counted ;  then  those  who  thought  him  innocent 
did  the  same  ;  and  the  votes  of  the  majority  decided  the  case 


102  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

Sometimes  a  ballot  was  taken,  and  black  and  white  beans 
were  cast  into  two  urns,  —  the  black  for  condemnation,  the 
'  white  for  acquittal,  —  here,  again,  the  major  vote  deciding  the 
case.  It  is  easy  to  see  in  this  arrangement  a  sway  of  the  popu- 
lar will  too  open  to  the  inroads  of  passion  and  prejudice  to  be 
always  safe  for  the  citizen  or  conducive  to  the  ends  of  jus- 
tice ;  yet  the  impartial  student  of  history  will  acknowledge  that 
the  cases  of  gross  wrong  were  few  and  at  long  intervals. 
Some  there  were  which  are  terrible  illustrations  of  the  deadly 
force  of  popular  prejudice  and  unreasoning  fury,  unchecked 

Sthe  strong  barrier  of  a  learned  and  independent  judiciary. 
The  power  of  the  people  was  preserved  by  the  principle 
of  choice  by  lot,  rather  than  by  ballot,  because  this  operated 
as  a  hindrance  to  the  formation  of  parties  in  the  state.  There 
could  be  no  organization  to  promote  the  election  of  such  or 
such  a  man  as  Archon  Eponymus,  because  he  represented 
the  principles  of  this  or  that  party ;  there  could  be  no  caucus 
nominations,  —  no  platform  of  principles  —  so  called  per  anti- 
phrasin^  as  the  grammarians  say  —  to  be  pulled  down  like 
other  show-platforms  when  the  exhibition  is  over.  The  For- 
tune which  decided  the  question  and  placed  the  citizen  in  office 
was  rigidly  impartial,  and  no  combination,  coalition,  compro- 
mise, bargain,  corruption,  promise,  threat,  availability,  or  other 
mysterious  source  of  political  influence,  could  swerve  the  god- 
dess from  her  course.  This  was,  perhaps,  an  advantage  on 
|  the  whole ;  and  we  find  few  complaints  of  the  incompetency 
or  unfaithfulness  of  the  magistrates  so  elected.  I  know  of  no 
instance  of  an  archon's  having  been  displaced  or  degraded, 
and  we  have  lists  of  several  hundred  of  them.  It  was  worth 
something  to  save  the  people  from  their  friends,  who  do  all  their 
political  thinking  for  them.  Fortune  was  quite  as  good  as  a 
caucus,  and  a  lot  was  as  good  as  a  platform  ;  for  Fortune 
and  the  lot  always  chose  from  among  those  who  were  legally 
and  theoretically  qualified,  while  the  caucus  and  the  platform 
are  in  the  frequent  habit  of  pitching  upon  those  who  are  no* 
qualified  at  all. 


THE   CONSTITUTION   OF   CLEISTHENES.  103 

It  is  probable  that  the  business  transacted  in  the  courts  was 
of  moderate  extent  at  first;  but  with  the  rapidly  unfolding 
power  of  the  commonwealth,  the  number  of  cases  of  litigation 
was  proportionally  increased.  The  commercial  relations  of  the 
Athenians  were  extended  and  complicated ;  the  mechanic  arts 
were  numerous  ;  while  enlarged  political  power,  from  various 
circumstances,  led  to  numerous  entanglement?  with  fcreign 
cities  and  kingdoms.  The  Peirseus  became  the  emporium  of 
the  world.  A  financial  system  of  the  most  r^ni  -^d  character 
was  gradually  formed  with  the  increasing  wants  of  the  state. 
An  extensive  mercantile  marine  came  into  active  operation. 
Questions  on  loans,  securities,  interest,  contracts,  guardian- 
ships ;  a  complex  system  of  port-duties  ;  disputes  as  to  tem- 
ple-property, and  the  rights  of  temple-corporations  therein; 
controversies  between  citizens  of  the  allied  states  and  citizens 
of  Athens,  which  were  carried  up  to  the  courts  of  Athens,  — 
all  these  caused  a  rapid  accumulation  of  business,  which  finally 
employed  a  large  part  of  the  citizens  in  daily  attendance  upon 
the  dicasteries.  The  fees  they  received  made  it  for  their  per- 
sonal interest  to  multiply  the  cases  as  far  and  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible, and  generated  a  love  of  litigation  which,  while  it  sharp- 
ened the  intellect,  was  a  dangerous  enemy  to  regular  industry, 
and  undermined  the  moral  character.     The  detestable  race  of 


public  informers,  making  a  business  of  getting  up  accusations 
—  mostly  false  —  against  the  citizens,  especially  those  of  the 
highestrespectability,  was  bred  by  the  public  corruption  into 
a  miserable,  mischievous,  and  contemptible  existence.  Some- 
times  the  love  ot  the  Jaw  led  to  a  kind  of  insanity,  like  that 
described  by  Sir  Walter  Scott  in  the  character  of  P^tpr 
Peebles  ;  and  Aristophanes,  withtiis  customary  skill,  seized 
'tlpon  this  frenzy  for  the  subject  of  one  of  It's  most  amusing 
comedies,  "  The  Wasps,"  to  whicn  I  made  a  cursory  refer- 
ence in  a  former  course  of  Lectures^ 

The  characters  in  this  piece  are  drawn  from  the  life,  but 
are  not  individuals  actually  living,  like  the  persons  in  "  The 
Knights  "  and  some  other  of  the  author's  plays.     The  prin- 


104  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

cipal  dramatis  persona  are  Philocleon,  an  old  dicast,  and,  as  his 
name  indicates,  a  friend  of  Cleon ;  his  son,  Bdelycleon,  a  hater 
of  the  demagogue ;  two  servants,  Sosias  and  Xanthias ;  a  cho- 
rus of  old  dicasts,  masquerading  as  gigantic  wasps,  with  tails 
and  stings  significant  of  their  vocation  ;  three  children,  sons  of 
Carcinus,  represented  by  a  practical  pun  on  their  father's  name 
as  young  crabs ;  a  dog,  and  a  door-keeper.  Philocleon  has 
the  dicastic  disease  in  the  most  virulent  form.  The  son,  wiser 
than  the  father,  and  wearied  out  with  his  extravagances,  tries 
to  cure  him.  Finding  argument  of  no  avail,  he  shuts  him  up 
at  home,  and  places  sentinels  to  keep  guard  over  him,  and  re- 
strain him  from  attendance  in  the  courts.  Medicines  are  ad- 
ministered to  him  in  vain  ;  Corybantian  rites  are  resorted  to, 
with  no  better  result.  He  tries  to  crawl  out  through  the  drain ; 
to  bore  the  wall ;  to  ascend  the  chimney,  where  he  is  stopped 
only  by  clapping  a  lid  over  the  top  of  it.  Then  he  pretends 
that  he  desires  to  sell  a  donkey,  and  fastens  himself  under  the 
ass's  belly.  He  is  discovered,  torn  away  from  his  hiding- 
place,  carried  back  into  the  house,  and  shut  in  with  bolts  and 
bars  stronger  than  before.  Something  falls  from  the  roof  on 
the  head  of  Sosias.  It  is  a  tile  loosened  from  the  roof  by  the 
old  juryman,  who  has  worked  his  way  between  the  rafters.  A 
troop  of  dicasts  passing  by  to  court,  early  in  the  morning,  the 
old  man  is  driven  to  madness,  gnaws  through  the  net  they  have 
spread  over  the  house,  and  attempts  to  descend  by  a  rope ;  but 
he  is  again  caught,  and  the  chorus  of  wasps  are  beaten  off. 
They  turn  upon  the  young  man,  with  a  charge  of  tyranny. 
The  old  man  declares  that  nothing  but  death  shall  separate 
him  from  the  courts ;  and  his  son,  discouraged  by  the  hopeless- 
ly incurable  character  of  the  disease,  surrenders,  and  promises 
to  convert  the  house  into  a  court  of  law  for  the  administration 
of  justice  among  the  inmates.  This  idea  is  eagerly  laid  hold 
of  by  the  old  man,  and  is  at  once  carried  into  execution.  A 
hitle  difficulty  occurs  at  first  in  finding  a  case ;  but  Xanthias 
is  heard  swearing  at 

"  A  graceless  cur,  a  most  atrocious  cur," 


THE  CONSTITUTION   OF   CLEISTHENES.  105 

who  has  broken  into  the  kitchen  and  eaten  up  a  whole  Sicilian 
cheese.  The  dog  is  Labes,  —  a  name  intended  for  Laches,  a 
general  who  had  been  tried  on  a  charge  of  peculation  in  Sicily. 
He  —  the  dog — is  immediately  arrested,  and  the  trial  proceeds 
with  all  the  forms  of  an  Athenian  court.  Xanthias  is  accuser, 
and  Bdelycleon  is  counsel  for  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  for  whom 
he  makes  an  eloquent  speech,  and  resorts  to  the  usual  method 
of  exciting  pity  by  producing  the  wife  and  children  of  the  ac- 
cused. The  puppies  behave  much  like  puppies,  and  are  dis- 
missed from  the  stand.  The  dog  is  acquitted,  to  the  great  dis- 
tress of  the  dicast.  Other  modes  of  cure  are  resorted  to.  The 
old  juryman  is  with  difficulty  persuaded  to  exchange  his  tat- 
tered cloak  for  a  new  one.  He  is  taught  how  to  eat  and  walk, 
to  sing  songs  and  take  attitudes,  like  a  gentleman.  But  he 
only  rushes  from  one  madness  to  another.  He  becomes  in- 
toxicated, and  beats  his  slave  ;  falls  to  leaping,  dancing,  and 
shouting ;  and,  as  one  of  the  servants  says,  performs  "  all  the 
antics  of  an  ass  over-stuffed  with  roasted  barley."  He  abuses 
his  son ;  gets  into  a  quarrel  with  a  baker-woman,  beating  her 
and  overturning  her  bread-basket  into  the  street ;  fights  a  man 
he  encounters  in  one  of  his  mad  freaks,  and  is  threatened  with 
a  suit  for  damages.  At  length  he  is  dragged  into  the  house  by 
main  force,  where,  hearing  a  flute,  he  is  seized  with  a  passion 
for  dancing,  and  challenges  every  one  to  a  trial.  The  chal- 
lenge is  accepted  by  the  sons  of  Carcinus,  who  appear  in  the 
form  of  young  crabs.  The  dance  commences,  the  old  crab 
(Carcinus)  joins  the  madness  of  the  hour,  and  the  piece  closes 
with  a  wild  travesty  of  tragic  and  comic  choral  movements. 

The  moral  and  mental  distemper  which  furnishes  the  ground- 
work of  this  fantastic  piece  has  its  type  in  human  nature, 
under  such  circumstances  as  existed  at  Athens,  and  as  exist 
wherever  the  spirit  of  litigation  is  fostered.  Each  of  us,  prob- 
ably, can  recall  examples  of  it ;  but  I  have  nowhere  seen  it  so 
powerfully  exhibited  in  literature  as  in  this  comedy.  Philo- 
cleon  is  past  cure ;  the  only  diversion  to  his  madness  is  to  turn 
it  into  other  channels.     In  this  consist  the  consiunmate  art  ot 


106  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

the  poet,  and  the  affecting  moral  —  affecting  in  the  midst  of 
the  most  grotesque  extravagances  —  which  the  comedy  teaches 
and  illustrates. 

I  have  preferred  to  set  forth  the  unhappy  consequences 
which,  in  individual  cases,  followed  from  the  extension  of  the 
judicial  system  of  Cleisthenes,  by  citing  the  picture  drawn  by 
the  Greek  satirist,  who  was  a  keen  observer  of  human  nature, 
and  thoroughly  familiar  with  the  working  of  the  institutions  of 
his  country  and  the  tendencies  of  his  age.  It  must  be  re 
membered,  however,  that  he  was  a  satirist,  and  not  a  philos 
opher ;  and  as  such  it  was  his  business  to  exhibit,  not  the 
whole  truth,  but  only  such  aspects  of  the  truth  as  were  ca- 
pable of  producing  a  comic  effect  by  ludicrous  exaggeration. 
There  was  a  morbid  state  of  the  Attic  mind,  —  the  disease 
springing  from  an  original  weakness  of  character,  but  developed 
and  made  intense  by  the  action  of  institutions,  —  but  the  mind 
was  in  the  main  good.  We  must  not  take  caricature  as  his- 
tory, but  only  as  a  vivid  illustration  of  side-views  of  history. 
There  were  dangers  in  the  judicial  system  of  Athens ;  and  the 
dicastic  disease  was  one  of  them.  Another  and  more  serious 
danger  was  the  risk  of  sacrificing  the  object  of  popular  dislike 
to  the  passions  of  the  hour,  as  was  done  in  the  case  of  Socrates. 
But  with  all  these  perils  and  morbid  tendencies,  the  Attic 
process  was  open  and  above-board.  There  was  no  stealthy 
arrest ;  no  hurrying  to  prison  without  remedy,  or  keeping 
in  prison  without  end  ;  no  secret  questioning  ;  no  hopeless 
concealment  from  the  public  eye.  The  arrest  was  in  the 
broad  day  ;  the  trial  was  in  open  court ;  fellow-citizens  pro- 
nounced the  verdict,  after  a  defence  in  which  all  freedom  of 
speech  was  allowed,  and  the  accuser  was  confronted  with  the 
accused.  In  a  long  course  of  administration  of  private  and 
public  justice,  the  cases  are  very  few  in  the  history  of  the  Attic 
courts  where  wrong  was  done  or  right  was  not  done.  That 
any  occurred  is  lamentable  ;  but  the  same  may  be  said  of  courts 
of  justice  elsewhere.  I  think  I  may  venture  to  affirm,  that,  ir. 
th<  variety  of  questions  discussed,  in  the  general  soundness  and 


THE   CONSTITUTION   OF   CLEISTHENES.  107 

*quity  of  the  decisions,  and  in  the  ability  with  which  the  cases 
were  argued,  the  history  of  the  popular  courts  in  Athens  is 
honorable  to  the  demos,  and  will  compare  favorably  with  that 
of  any  modern  nation. 

This  leads  me  to  a  special  ordinance  in  the  Constitution  of 
Cleisthenes,  which  I  must  utterly  condemn r  while  T  think  T" 
see  the  reasons  that  wrought  on  the  legislator's  mind  in  enact- 
ing it.  1  refer  here  to  ostracism.  It  was  a  process  known 
in  principle  to  other  states  as  well  as  to  Athens.  The  pur- 
pose was  to  remove  temporarily  any  citizen  who,  by  wealth, 
ability,  general  influence,  or  aspiring  character,  might  be~ 
thought  by  a  considerable  number  of  the  people  to  be  dan- 
gerous to  the  commonwealth.  The  words  of  Aristotle  are : 
"  Democratic  states  were  accustomed  to  ostracize  and  remove 
from  the  city  for  a  definite  time  those  who  appeared  to  be 
superior  to  their  fellow-citizens,  by  reason  of  their  wealth, 
the  number  of  their  friends,  or  any  other  means  of  influence." 
It  is  clear  that  it  was  meant  to  be  applied  to  cases  where  no 
crime  had  been  committed ;  and  at  Athens  it  worked  no 
forfeiture  of  property  and  no  personal  disgrace.  The  ex- 
perience of  the  Greek  republics  taught  them  the  danger  of 
usurpation,  under  a  popular  constitution.  The  true  protection 
against  the  danger  was  to  have  a  strong  executive  head,  —  a 
unit,  —  instead  of  scattering  executive  powers  and  responsibili- 
ties among  many  boards  and  individuals.  But  the  law-makers, 
in  their  dread  of  concentrating  powers  in  one  person,  were 
deterred  from  this  course,  thinking,  perhaps,  that  such  a  magis- 
trate might  easily  become  a  despot,  —  a  view  curiously  illus- 
trated by  the  present  Constitution  of  the  Swiss  Republic,  in 
which  the  members  of  the  council  of  state  hold  in  succession  the 
office  of  President.  The  explanation  given  me  by  a  statesman 
of  that  country  was,  that  the  makers  of  the  Constitution  were 
■ifraid  that  a  President  with  a  long  tenure  of  office  and  full 
executive  powers  would  soon  be  converted  by  the  neighboring 
monarchies  into  a  despot.  Cleisthenes  Had  witnessed  the  ap- 
Daront   ease  with  whi  h   the   house   of  Peisistratus  had  risen 


108  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

to  power,  and  the  difficulty  with  which  that  power  had  been 
overthrown.  He  probably  thought,  in  the  existing  state  of 
things,  that  danger  to  the  government  was  still  lurking  in 
the  unconstitutional  desires  of  adherents  of  the  tyrannical 
house,  or  of  other  ambitious  members  of  the  Eupatrid  order ; 
and  reasoning  upon  past  experience,  he  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  would  be  easier  and  better  to  get  rid  of  the  dangerous 
individual  before  he  should  surround  himself  with  the  muni- 
ments of  usurped  power  than  afterwards,  which,  as  he  might 
have  remembered,  was  the  suggestion  in  Solon's  warning 
verses.  He  probably  thought,  also,  that  he  had  sufficiently 
guarded  ostracism  from  abuse ;  for  he  provided  that  the  senate 
and  assembly  should  first  inquire  whether  such  a  step  was 
necessary.  If  they  decided  in  the  affirmative,  then  the  people 
were  summoned  to  a  general  meeting  in  the  Agora,  —  each 
bringing  a  bit  of  tile, — ostracon,  —  on  which  he  wrote  the 
name  of  the  person  whose  banishment  he  desired.  The  nine 
archons  and  the  presiding  officers  superintended  the  proceed- 
ing ;  and  the  citizen  against  whom  six  thousand  bits  of  tile 
were  deposited  was  ostracized.  He  was  required  to  leave  the 
city  in  ten  days. 

Mr.  Grote,  from  whose  judgment  I  do  not  think  it  ordi- 
narily safe  to  differ  on  a  question  of  Greek  history  or  polity, 
approves  of  ostracism.  To  be  banished  for  ten  years  with- 
out even  the  allegation  of  a  crime  could  inflict  no  personal 
dishonor.  It  was  a  great  hardship,  no  doubt,  both  to  the  vic- 
tim and  to  his  family.  But  he  could  return  at  the  expira- 
tion of  the  time,  resume  his  place  as  a  citizen,  take  charge 
of  his  property,  and  all  might  go  on  as  before.  Yet  ten  years 
is  a  long  time  to  be  in  exile,  anywhere  ;  for  an  Athenian  to 
be  away  from  Athens,  on  compulsion,  for  ten  years,  and  all 
for  no  crime,  was  certainly  a  hard  measure  for  being  a  well- 
born, wealthy,  or  otherwise  distinguished  or  ambitious  man, 
or  for  being,  as  was  the  case  with  Aristeides,  universally  callea 
the  Just.  It  might  well  be  objected,  also,  that,  where  political 
rivalries  were  vehement  and  the  passions  ran  high,  such  a  mode 


THE   CONSTITUTION   OF   CLEISTHENES.  109 

of  removing  a  competitor  offered  too  great  a  temptation  to 
slander  and  all  the  base  arts  of  secretly  undermining  the  rep- 
utation. No  doubt  in  practice  this  was  the  case.  I  ques- 
tion if  there  was  ever  an  instance  of  a  successful  resort  to  this 
measure  in  any  other  way  or  for  any  other  purpose.  As 
might  have  been  expected,  the  best  men  were  in  almost  all 
cases  the  victims, — Themistocles,  Aristeides,  Cimon.  It  never 
was  of  any  benefit  to  the  state,  and  it  generally  did  nothing 
but  mischief.  It  would  be  enough  to  say,  that  it  was  unjust, 
and  that  injustice  is  always  inexpedient,  if  the  principle  of 
justice  were  always  recognized  as  the  controlling  and  guiding 
rule  in  the  formation  of  political  institutions.  The  experience 
of  the  world,  taken  collectively,  shows  the  evil  and  deadly  con- 
sequences that  inevitably  flow  from  the  incorporation  of  wrong 
into  the  fundamental  law  of  a  state.  There  is  an  Eternal 
Power  which  sends  its  retributions  sooner  or  later,  and  re-estab- 
lishes often  on  the  ruins  of  ancient  thrones  and  long- descended 
dynasties,  and  often  on  ground  drenched  with  the  blood  of  the 
innocent  descendants  of  the  original  authors  of  the  wrong, 
the  immortal  principle  of  justice.  Ostracism,  however,  was 
not  strong  enough  to  maintain  itself,  and  to  require  so  solemn 
a  catastrophe  to  end  it.  Two  Athenian  statesmen,  Nicias  and 
Alcibiades,  united  to  ostracize  Hyperbolus,  a  lamp-maker,  a 
coarse  and  vulgar  demagogue  ;  and  by  ostracizing  him  they 
ostracized  ostracism  itself.  From  that  time  forth  it  was  vulgar; 
it  smelt  of  the  lamp  of  Hyperbolus  ;  it  was  unfit  for  a  gentle- 
man. If  I  had  been  an  Athenian,  I  should  have  preferred  to 
have  had  it  abolished  because  it  was  wrong,  rather  than  discon- 
tinued because  it  had  grown  vulgar;  but  I  should  have  been 
glad  to  get  rid  of  it  in  any  way. 

I  have  endeavored  to  point  out  the  defects  as  well  as  the   J 
excellences  of  the  Athenian  Constitution.     The  latter  greatly  j 
predominate  over  the  former  in  number  and  weight.     It  was  \ 
a  marvellous  piece  of  wisdom.     It  contains  all  the  principles/ 
of  free  government,  to  which  modern  times  have   added  only  \ 
new  application*  and  combinations.     Legislation  and  the  ad- J 


110  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

ministration  of  justice  by  the  people  or  their  representatives , 
legislation  by  two  distinct  bodies,  insuring  careful  considera- 
tion before  the  enactment  of  laws ;  the  administration  of  jus- 
tice, through  fair  trial  by  equals,  and  in  the  open  day,  —  these 
rand  securities  of  liberty  are  the  fundamental  principles  of 
he   Constitution   of  Athens.      Under   that    Constitution,  she 
pse  to  power ;  she  made  for  herself  immortal  renown  in  the 
world's  history ;    she  confronted  the    multitudinous  hosts  of 
ersia ;    she  survived  the  Peloponnesian   war ;    she  survived 
he   Macedonian  conquest;  she   maintained  herself  as  an  in- 
tegral part  of  the  Roman  Empire.     Even    through  the  Dark 
A.ges,  parts  of  her  ancient  Constitution  —  her  magistrates  and 
ribunals —  still    remained.      Under  the   Turkish   oppression, 
Athens  still   had  her   archons  ;    and  under  the   Constitution 
)f  1843  she  has  her  court  of  the  Ephetae,  and  her  Areopa- 
us   before    which,    only    a   few   years    ago,    an    over-zealous 
classicist  of  the  Athenian  bar  moved  a  reversal  of  the  sentence 
of  Socrates. 

Thus  vital  and  durable  are  human  institutions,  when  founded 
on  natural  right,  and  animated  by  the  spirit  of  liberty  and 
rf  justice. 


LECTURE    VII. 

THE    PERSIAN    WARS.  —  ORIGIN     OF     ATTIC     ELOQUENCE  - 

PERICLES. 

Lycubgus  intended  to  make  his  people  a  brotherhood  of 
warriors.  His  object  was  to  keep  them  apart  from  other  na- 
tions ;  of  course,  to  repress  the  passions  which  lead  to  foreign 
conquest.  But  even  his  stringent  rhetrce  could  not  utterly 
subdue  the  nature  of  man.  He  did  not  count  upon  the  effect 
of  jealousy  excited  by  the  spectacle  of  others,  living  under 
different  systems,  and  rising  to  power  by  different  means. 
Athens  is  only  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Sparta  ;  and 
it  was  impossible  for  the  Spartans  to  be  indifferent  to  what 
was  going  forward  in  Athens.  Sparta  was  the  natural  ally 
of  despots  and  oligarchs  everywhere.  She  was  the  natural 
ally  of  Peisistratus  and  Hippias  and  Hipparchus ;  and  she 
sought  every  opportunity  of  interfering  with  the  growth  of 
a  power  like  that  of  Athens,  founded  upon  principles  so  alien 
from  her  own.  Isagoras  invoked  the  aid  of  Sparta  against 
Cleisthenes.  Through  her  influence,  Cleisthenes  was  com- 
pelled to  quit  Athens,  as  one  of  the  accursed  family  of  the 
Alcmaeonidae.  Cleomenes,  the  Spartan  king,  being  despatched 
with  a  military  force,  entered  Athens  without  resistance,  and, 
having  expelled  seven  hundred  families,  attempted  to  dissolve 
the  Senate  of  Five  Hundred,  and  to  place  the  government  un- 
der the  control  of  three  hundred  adherents  of  Sparta.  This 
was  carrying  matters  with  too  high  a  hand.  The  people  flew 
to  arms.  Cleomenes  and  Isagoras  fled  to  the  Acropolis,  but 
were  obliged  to  surrender  in  two  days.  They  were  allowed 
to  withdraw  ;  but  their  followers  were  slain.     The  exiles  were 


112  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

at  once  restored,  and  two  results  immediately  followed:  —  1.  A 
feeling  of  hostility  was  created  between  the  two  states,  never 
afterwards  completely  removed.  2.  The  free  Constitution  was 
more  deeply  rooted  in  the  affection  of  the  people  by  this  un- 
successful attempt  of  domestic  treason  and  foreign  violence  to 
overturn  it. 

Another  attempt  was  made  by  sending  a  Peloponnesian 
army,  under  the  command  of  both  kings,  into  Attica.  But 
the  Corinthian  allies,  ascertaining  the  object  of  the  expedition, 
denounced  the  enterprise ;  and  Demaratus,  the  second  Spartan 
king,  agreeing  with  the  Corinthians,  the  army  broke  up. 

Not  content  with  this,  the  Spartans  called  a  congress  of 
their  allies  to  consult  on  the  restoration  of  Hippias,  whom 
they  invited  to  be  present.  Again  they  found  the  proposition 
to  restore  the  tyrant  not  well  received.  The  Corinthian  dep- 
uties expressed  the  general  sense  of  the  congress.  "  Surely," 
said  they,  "  heaven  and  earth  are  about  to  change  places, 
when  you  Spartans  propose  to  set  up  in  the  cities  that  wicked 
and  bloody  thing  called  a  tyrant.  First  try  what  it  is  for 
yourselves,  at  Sparta,  and  then  force  it  upon  others.  If  you 
persist  in  a  scheme  so  wicked,  know  that  the  Corinthians  will 
not  second  you."  The  Spartans  were  forced  to  abandon  their 
unprincipled  scheme ;  and  Hippias  went  back  to  Sigeum  in 
Asia  to  wait  for  better  times,  and  to  see  what  he  could  do 
by  intriguing  with  the  Persians.  The  Constitution,  having 
weathered  the  storms  that  broke  upon  its  early  days,  rapidly 
became  the  object  of  the  devotion  of  the  citizens  ;  and  in  the 
short  period  —  about  eighteen  years  —  which  elapsed  between 
these  attempts  of  Sparta  and  the  breaking  out  of  the  Persian 
war,  all  ranks  of  men,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  became 
ardently  attached  to  the  country  and  to  its  wise  and  beneficent 
institutions. 

The  Greek  colonies  in  Asia  Minor  had  been  subjected  to 
the  Persian  Empire.  About  500  B.  C,  movements  of  revolt 
oegan  to  take  place,  especially  among  the  Ionians,  who  nat- 
urally applied  to  their  kinsmen,  the  Athenians,  for  support 


THE  PERSIAN  WARS.  113 

A  fleet  way  despatched  across  the  jEgean,  and  the  troops, 
uniting  with  a  strong  Ionian  force,  marched  upon  Sardis,  one 
of  the  principal  cities  of  the  Empire,  to  which  they  set  fire ; 
but  being  obliged  to  retreat  before  a  superior  army,  they  were 
overtaken  on  the  way  to  Ephesus,  and  severely  beaten.  On 
hearing  of  this  insult  to  his  royal  authority,  Darius,  the  Per- 
si^m  king,  fell  into  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  and  made  immediate 
preparations  to  put  down  the  revolt,  which  had  rapidly  ex- 
tended. Miletus  was  closely  besieged,  the  Ionian  fleet  was  de- 
feated near  Lade,  the  city  was  taken  by  storm,  the  men  were 
mostly  slain,  and  the  women  and  children  were  carried  into 
captivity  in  the  interior  of  Asia.  The  downfall  of  Miletus,  and 
the  fate  of  its  inhabitants,  furnished  the  subject  for  a  tragedy 
brought  out  at  Athens  in  the  following  year  by  Phrynichus, 
which  threw  the  audience  into  such  convulsions  of  grief,  that 
they  fined  the  author  a  thousand  drachmae  "  for  having  re- 
called to  them  their  own  misfortunes."  These  events  hap- 
pened B.  C.  495,  and  led  to  the  complete  subjugation  of  the 
Ionians  to  Persia. 

Darius  was  not  forgetful  of  what  he  regarded  as  the  inso- 
lence of  the  Athenians  in  the  burning  of  Sardis.  He  sent 
an  army,  B.  C.  492,  under  the  command  of  his  son-in-law 
Mardonius,  with  orders  to  bring  to  Susa  the  Athenians  who 
had  insulted  the  authority  of  the  great  king.  But  the  fleet 
was  wrecked  on  the  rocky  coast  of  Athos,  the  land-troops 
were  exhausted  by  fighting  the  Thracians,  and  he  was  obliged 
to  lead  back  the  shattered  remnants  of  the  host  across  the 
Hellespont.  The  king  made  preparations  on  a  larger  scale, 
and  two  years  later  sent  a  vast  army  under  Datis  and  Ar- 
taphernes,  who  were  commanded  to  burn  Athens  and  Eretria 
to  the  ground,  and  to  carry  away  the  inhabitants  into  slavery. 
The  Persians  had  seen  enough  of  Mount  Athos,  and  they 
now  sailed  across  the  jEgean  and  made  for  Euboea.  Eretria 
was  soon  reduced ;  and  then,  crossing  over  the  narrow  strip  of 
sea,  they  landed  on  the  immortal  plain  of  Marathon.  At  Ath- 
ens were  three  men,  educated  by  her  free  institutions,  who 


114  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

were  fully  equal  to  the  emergency,  —  Miltiades,  Themistocles, 
and  Aristeides,  all  of  whom  were  chosen  on  the  board  of  ten 
generals  for  that  year,  the  people  doubtless  making  this  most 
judicious  selection  with  reference  to  the  threatened  invasion. 
A  courier  was  sent  to  Sparta  to  solicit  assistance ;  but  no  assist- 
ance came  in  season.  On  religious  grounds  the  Spartans  were 
unwilling  to  march  before  the  full  moon,  now  some  days  off. 
But  the  Athenians  immediately  hurried  over  to  Marathon.  I 
need  not  recount  the  history  of  the  memorable  day  which,  un- 
der the  auspices  of  the  great  Miltiades,  made  the  name  of 
that  beautiful  plain  a  rallying-cry  for  freedom  and  patriotism 
forever.  The  mound  raised  over  the  Athenians  who  fell  there 
still  stands  on  the  field,  and  speaks  to  the  soul  with  its  eloquent 
associations  in  the  midst  of  silence  and  solitude. 

This  decisive  victory  released  the  Greeks  from  fears  of  Persia 
for  ten  years.  Athens  went  steadily  forward  as  a  free  state, 
not  without  warm  debates,  and  even  discords,  among  her  great 
men.  Themistocles  and  Aristeides,  after  the  death  of  Mil- 
tiades, were  the  most  distinguished  leaders.  The  peril  of  the 
Persian  invasion  had  brought  them  to  act  harmoniously  in  the 
common  cause  of  the  country ;  but  after  the  storm  had  swept 
by,  they  often  differed,  sometimes  acrimoniously.  Aristeides 
was  a  man  of  the  most  incorruptible  virtue,  so  that  he  was  pop- 
ularly called  the  Just.  Not  only  was  it  impossible  to  bend 
him  from  the  straitest  course  of  honor  by  any  prospect  of  per- 
sonal advantage,  but  even  the  interest  of  his  country  could 
not  swerve  him  in  the  least.  With  these  admirable  qualities, 
he  was  at  the  same  time,  if  one  may  venture  to  judge  of  a 
public  man  of  two-and-twenty  centuries  ago,  a  little  too  rigid  in 
his  adherence  to  the  old.  He  was  averse  to  innovation,  and 
did  not  sufficiently  appreciate  the  universal  fact  that  changes 
in  manners,  customs,  occupations,  and  social  usages  are  inev- 
itable in  every  free  people.  His  wish  was  to  prevent  the 
Athenians  from  rushing  into  such  movements.  He  tried  to 
hold  them  back.  He  preferred  the  simplicity  of  the  earllei 
times,  and   dreaded   the  consequences  of  the  love  of  noveltj 


THE   PERSIAN  WARS.  115 

inder  the  stimulus  of  growing  power  at  home  and  abroad.  No 
doubt  Young  Athens  soon  began  to  regard  him  as  an  old  con- 
servative, though  without  losing  confidence  in  his  integrity. 
Themistocles,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a  much  more  brilliant 
and  versatile  genius.  He  was  for  striking  out  new  paths 
of  honor  and  glory.  In  intuitive  sagacity,  unfailing  invention, 
boldness  in  executing  his  plans,  insight  into  the  purposes  of 
his  enemies,  and  skill  in  thwarting  them,  he  was  one  of  the 
ablest  statesmen  of  the  ancient  world.  But  he  failed  to  make 
the  same  impression  of  honesty  as  his  great  rival.  He  could 
be  wily,  artful,  perhaps  a  little  tricky,  upon  occasion.  He 
was  not  always  open  in  his  management.  He  had  no  objec- 
tion to  a  bit  of  intrigue.  He  was  an  advocate  of  progress. 
He  urged  the  Athenians  to  develop  their  maritime  resources 
and  to  build  fleets,  —  all  against  the  advice  of  Aristeides. 
Looking  back  from  this  distance  of  time,  we  cannot  but  see 
that  the  counsel  of  Themistocles  was  the  best,  and  that  the 
Athenians  were  wise  in  following  his  leading  rather  than  that 
of  Aristeides. 

These  contrasts  of  character  brought  them  into  frequent  col- 
lisions, and  to  some  extent  led  to  the  formation  of  parties  in 
the  state.  We  have  seen  that  the  peculiar  distribution  of 
powers,  administrative,  political,  and  judicial,  almost  precluded 
the  possibility  of  parties,  in  the  modern  sense  of  the  word. 
The  archons,  the  senators,  and  many  other  high  officers,  were 
chosen  by  lot  from  among  the  qualified  citizens ;  there  could 
therefore  be  no  factions  headed  by  any  of  these  functionaries, 
and  struggling  for  victory  in  the  elections.  Still,  in  every  free 
country  there  will  be  certain  general  differences  of  opinion 
and  tendency,  which  will  bring  like-thinking  citizens  together, 
and  into  opposition  to  other  bodies  similarly  united  in  opinion, 
There  will  be  in  the  community,  for  example,  a  class  of  men 
who  will  take  their  stand  upon  experience,  and  hold  by  what 
k  established,  —  composed  in  great  part  of  the  sober,  elderly, 
wealthy,  well-born  citizens  ;  and  there  will  be  another  class  of 
restless,  ardent,  hopeful,  umbitious  men,  or  of  those  who  have 


116  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

their  career  to  make  or  their  fortunes  to  win,  who  will  be 
eager  for  change,  —  for  reform,  or  for  what  they  call  reform, 
—  who  will  endeavor  to  overturn  what  is  established,  and  to 
reconstruct  institutions  upon  principles  and  theories  hitherto 
untried.  At  Athens  there  was  much  of  this :  and  the  leaders 
of  the  more  popular  tendency  were  quite  as  often  from  the 
high-born  and  proud  old  families  as  from  any  other.  The 
battles  were  fought  on  single  questions  in  the  senate  and  be- 
fore the  popular  assembly.  It  was  utterly  impossible  before- 
hand to  count  upon  a  majority,  or  to  form  anything  more  than 
a  conjectural  opinion  before  the  vote  was  actually  taken ;  and 
it  would  often  happen  that  antagonists  on  one  question  would 
be  found  voting  together  on  another.  It  may  be  added,  that 
questions  so  discussed  were  less  likely  to  be  wrongly  settled 
than  in  countries  where  the  party  lines  are  so  drawn  through 
the  community,  that  the  people  look  more  to  their  political 
combinations  and  relations  than  to  the  absolute  merits  of  the 
arguments  addressed  to  them. 

Such  was  the  state  of  parties  under  the  Constitution  of  Cleis- 
thenes,  when  the  next  Persian  invasion  under  Xerxes  took 
place.  His  mighty  preparations,  continuing  those  which  his 
father  had  commenced,  excited  a  great  commotion  in  Greece. 
Even  Sparta  laid  aside  her  ancient  exclusiveness,  and  united 
with  Athens,  in  a  congress  at  Corinth,  in  an  attempt  to  bring 
about  a  union  of  the  Greek  states.  But  the  formidable  hosts  of 
the  invader  paralyzed  many  of  the  states  with  terror,  so  hope- 
less did  it  seem  to  make  any  resistance.  By  far  the  larger  num- 
ber submitted  to  the  first  demand  of  the  enemy,  who  insolently 
required  of  them  to  send  him  earth  and  water.  Left  almost 
alone,  Sparta  and  Athens  resolved  to  make  a  stand.  At  first 
they  fixed  on  the  Vale  of  Tempe ;  but  Thermopylae,  farther 
south,  was  finally  determined  upon.  I  need  not  recapitulate 
the  circumstances  of  the  battle  in  which  Leonidas  and  his 
three  hundred  fell.  Their  memory  haunts  the  spot,  as  if  they 
had  trodden  the  narrow  passage  but  yesterday.  Never  before 
nor  afterwards  did  Dorian  courage  show  so  gloriously.     In  the 


THE  PERSIAN   WARS.  117 

fragment  of  an  Ode  by  Simonides  the  deeds  of  Leonidas  are 
nobly  celebrated :  — 

"  Of  those  who  at  Thermopylae  were  slain, 
Glorious  the  doom  and  beautiful  the  lot ; 
Their  tomb  an  altar;  men  from  tears  refrain, 
To  honor  them,  and  praise,  but  mourn  them  not. 
Such  sepulchre,  nor  drear  decay 

Nor  all-destroying  time  shall  waste ;  this  right  have  they. 
Within  their  grave  the  home-bred  glory 
Of  Greece  was  laid  ;  this  witness  gives 
Leonidas  the  Spartan,  in  whose  story 
A  wreath  of  famous  virtue  ever  lives." 

The  sea-fight  of  Artemisium,  about  the  same  time,  left  both 
Beets  disabled,  and  furnished  the  prelude  to  the  great  defeat  of 
Salamis,  whither  the  Greeks  retired  and  the  Persians  followed. 
And  now  again  the  selfish  policy  of  the  Dorians  showed  itself 
Leaving  the  barbarians  to  pursue  their  way  by  land,  they  be- 
gan to  fortify  the  Corinthian  Isthmus.  The  Athenians  were 
obliged  to  transport  their  families  to  Salamis,  Troezen,  and 
JSgina.  Themistocles  called  in  the  aid  of  the  Delphian  ora- 
cle, which  he  caused  to  respond,  "  The  divine  Salamis  will 
make  women  childless  ;  but  when  all  is  lost,  a  wooden  wall 
shall  shelter  the  Athenians."  The  Persian  army  approached 
the  city.  The  patriotic  zeal  of  the  inhabitants  mounted  with 
the  occasion.  The  banished  were  recalled,  —  Aristeides  on  the 
proposition  of  his  rival  Themistocles.  The  members  of  the 
Areopagus  contributed  individually,  and  used  their  authority  to 
procure  funds,  for  the  public  service.  The  Persian  host  took 
possession  of  the  city,  desecrated  and  burned  the  temples,  and 
put  the  few  defenders  who  remained  there  to  the  sword.  The 
barbarian  fleet  arrived  at  Phalerum,  while  the  confederated 
fleets  of  Athens  and  Sparta  were  lying  in  the  harbor  of  Sala- 
mis. The  commanders  of  the  Spartan  and  Corinthian  con- 
tingents were  on  the  point  of  deserting  their  position.  In  an 
angry  debate,  Themistocles  warmly  remonstrated  against  so  un- 
worthy a  course ;  and,  the  Spartan  Eurybiades  being  incensed  at 
his  words,  and  lifting  his  sfan°  to  strike  him,  Themistocles  gave 


118  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

the  famoas  answer,  "Strike,  but  hear."  After  all,  the  narrow 
and  unpatriotic  views  of  the  Dorians  were  counteracted  only 
by  an  artifice  of  Themistocles ;  and  the  battle  of  Salamis,  which 
again  crowned  the  Grecian  arms  with  glory,  was  due  to  the 
skilful  management  of  the  Athenian  general  much  more  than 
to  the  bravery  of  the  Dorians  with  whom  he  was  associated, 
^schylus,  who  was  present  in  the  conflict,  gives  in  his  play 
of  "The  Persians"  a  most  animated  description  of  it.  The 
battle  of  Platsea,  in  which  the  Dorian  states  contributed  an 
effective  force,  finished  the  Persian  campaign  in  Greece  ;  and 
the  victory  of  Mycale,  in  Asia  Minor,  closed  the  war.  In 
these  momentous  events  we  plainly  see  the  working  of  the  two 
sets  of  political  institutions.  The  Spartans,  brave  on  the  field, 
were  narrow  and  selfish  in  policy.  When  the  first  terror  of  the 
Persian  invasion  came  over  the  country,  and  a  majority  of  the 
states  sent  earth  and  water  to  the  insolent  barbarian,  the  spirit 
of  Sparta  was  roused.  She  placed  herself  in  the  front  rank. 
She  covered  herself  with  imperishable  renown.  But  it  was 
only  the  Athenian  statesmen  who  discerned  the  true  nature  of 
the  conflict,  and  understood  the  vital  importance  of  a  general 
resistance  by  the  Hellenic  race.  Thermopylae  belongs  to  Sparta 
doubtless ;  but  the  great  deliverance  is  the  undying  honor  of 
Athens.  It  is  due  to  her  that  the  nascent  civilization  of  Eu- 
rope was  not  crushed  under  the  conquering  despotism  of  the 
Orientals. 

The  position  which  Athens  so  nobly  maintained  gave  her  a 
foremost  rank  after  the  storm  had  swept  by.  The  city  was  re- 
built. Literature  and  art  took  a  sudden  spring  forward.  The 
tragedies  of  iEschylus,  animated  by  the  great  thoughts  which 
the  Persian  wars  had  aroused,  taught,  in  the  sublimest  poetry, 
the  noble  lessons  of  justice,  righteousness,  and  retribution  for 
overbearing  human  pride.  Athens  was  looked  up  to  by  the 
other  states  as  their  deliverer.  She  was  the  acknowledged 
head  of  a  great  confederacy,  extending  round  the  iEgean  Sea 
and  over  the  islands.  She  contracted  to  protect  her  allies  with 
her  naval  power  against  any  future  attacks  of  the  Persians. 


THE  PERSIAN   WARS.  119 

and  they  agreed  to  furnish  the  pecuniary  means,  by  a  contribu- 
tion which  they  left  to  the  judgment  of  Aristeides  the  Just  to 
apportion  among  them.  Her  prosperity  advanced  with  rapid 
strides ;  and  her  institutions  were  imitated  wherever  the  rights 
of  men  were  decided  by  reason  and  not  by  force,  as  Isocrates 
truly  claimed.  A  congress  of  deputies  was  organized,  which  met 
at  Delos,  where  the  common  treasury  of  the  confederacy  was 
established ;  but  from  the  beginning,  although  these  deputies 
had  in  theory  the  disposal  of  the  funds,  Athens,  the  protecting 
city,  really  controlled  the  application  of  them.  The  union  was 
called  at  first  the  Confederacy  of  Delos ;  the  assessment  was 
fixed  at  four  hundred  and  sixty  talents  ($460,000),  and  was 
placed  under  the  care  of  certain  officers  called  Hellenotamice. 

Though  the  old  hostility  between  Themistocles  and  Aris- 
teides had  been  temporarily  suspended  during  the  dangers  of 
the  Persian  wars,  and  Aristeides  had  surrendered  many  of  his 
former  prejudices,  —  yielding  perhaps  to  the  necessity  imposed 
on  him  by  the  democratic  tendencies  of  the  times,  —  it  was  re- 
vived when  Themistocles,  who  had  withstood  the  temptations 
of  the  hard  times  of  war,  fell  before  those  of  peace  and  prosper- 
ity. He  was  ostracized  in  his  turn  ;  but  the  fact  of  his  being 
subjected  to  this  punishment  is  in  his  favor,  as  showing  that  his 
enemies  could  not  prove  against  him  a  strong  case  of  criminal- 
ity, though  he  was  commonly  accused  of  corruption  and  fraud 
in  dealing  with  the  confederated  cities.  It  was  in  some  measure 
due  to  the  influence  of  Sparta,  who  bore  a  special  grudge  against 
the  Athenian  statesman,  that  he  was  driven  into  exile.  He  re- 
tired to  Asia,  where  he  was  received  with  dislinguished  honors 
by  the  Persian  king,  who  assigned  to  him  the  town  of  Magne- 
sia for  his  residence.  He  died  there  at  the  age  of  sixty-five. 
His  remains  were  said  to  have  been  secretly  brought  to  Attica, 
md  a  tomb,  the  ruins  of  which  still  form  a  striking  object  on 
the  right  of  the  entrance  into  the  harbor  of  Peiraeus,  was  sup- 
posed to  cover  his  body,  —  a  most  picturesque  and  fitting  spo* 
for  him  who  founded  the  navy  of  Athens,  and  who,  more  thar 
any  other  man,  was  entitled  to  the  honor  of  the  victory  of 


120  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

Salamis  ;  for  the  monument  overlooks  the  blue  waters  and  the 
island  where  that  great  event  took  place.  An  ancient  inscrip- 
tion commemorated  the  illustrious  Athenian :  — 

"  By  the  sea's  margin,  on  the  watery  strand, 
Thy  monument,  Themistocles,  shall  stand ; 
By  this  direction,  to  thy  native  shore 
The  merchant  shall  convey  his  freighted  store  ; 
And  when  our  fleets  are  summoned  to  the  fight, 
Athens  shall  conquer  with  thy  tomb  in  sight." 

During  the  period  which  I  have  rapidly  sketched,  the  states- 
men of  Athens  guided  the  public  counsels  by  the  personal  in- 
fluence they  wielded  in  the  senate  and  the  popular  assembly. 
Open  debate  on  every  question  of  domestic  or  foreign  policy, 
whether  in  peace  or  war,  universally  preceded  legislation;  and 
the  great  men,  Cimon,  Miltiades,  Themistocles,  were  all  obliged 
to  maintain  their  ground  by  public  speech.  It  was  not  neces- 
sary to  the  statesman  to  hold  any  office,  in  order  to  guide  the 
policy  of  the  state.  Membership  of  the  Ecclesia  was  to  him 
what  a  seat  in  the  House  of  Commons  is  in  England,  or  a  seat 
in  the  House  of  Representatives  in  the  United  States  ;  there 
he  made  himself  felt,  and  from  the  Bema  his  voice  was  heard 
controlling  and  directing  the  sovereign  people.  The  states- 
man was  often  elected  to  offices ;  but  these  offices  had  nothing 
to  do  with  his  position  as  a  statesman,  except  so  far  as  the  duties 
belonging  to  them  took  him  off  from  the  political  deliberations 
in  the  assembly.  The  office  of  general  was  often  filled  even 
by  poets,  as  Sophocles  was  once  appointed  commander  in  the 
Samian  expedition,  in  which  Pericles  was  his  colleague.  We 
do  not  hear  that  he  performed  any  very  brilliant  martial  ex- 
ploits ;  but  he  made  himself  a  pleasant  companion  to  the  offi- 
cers and  citizens,  and  doubtless  took  the  opportunity  of  visiting 
the  coast  of  Asia  Minor  and  the  plain  of  Troy ;  for  about  this 
time  he  brought  out  the  splendid  tragedy  of  "  Ajax,"  the  scene 
of  which  is  laid  on  the  Hellespontine  shore. 

I  do  not  think  it  would  be  in  the  least  degree  correct  to 
ascribe  the  origin  of  Attic  eloquence  to  the  development  of  the 


ORIGIN   OF   ATTIC   ELOQUENCE.  121 

Constitution^  or  to  the  growth  of  political  and  judicial  business 
consequent  on  the  extension  of  the  confederacy.  The  Ionian 
had  from  the  beginning  the  temperament  of  eloquence  ;  and  he 
established  forms  of  life  and  of  social  intercourse  eminently  fa- 
vorable to  the  arts  of  speech.  His  language  was  a  marvellous 
instrument  for  every  possible  effect.  Rich,  sweet,  flowing,  flex- 
ible, and  at  the  same  time  exact  and  precise  in  discrimination ; 
sometimes  soft  and  gentle  as  a  summer  breeze,  again  strong, 
grand,  and  mighty  as  the  winter  storm ;  reflecting  every  aspect 
of  the  most  beautiful  and  lovely  scenes  in  nature,  and  express- 
ing every  mood  of  the  intellect,  every  affection  of  the  heart, 
every  relation  of  thought,  with  equal  facility  and  completeness, 
—  it  adapted  itself  to  the  quick  and  varied  movements  of  the 
Ionian  mind,  whether  they  manifested  themselves  in  the  sport- 
ive sallies  of  a  bright  imagination,  or  the  rapid  and  vehe- 
ment outbreaks  of  resentment,  or  the  ardor  of  love,  or  the 
severest  logic  of  the  understanding.  Doubtless  there  has 
never  been  such  an  instrument  of  thought  —  such  an  organ 
for  every  species  of  literary  record,  or  for  immediate  impres- 
sion by  uttered  speech  —  as  the  Ionian  and  Attic  Greek.  It  is 
no  exaggeration  to  say  that  Homer  showed  himself  a  consum- 
mate master  of  every  species  of  eloquence.  The  ancient  rhet- 
oricians recognized  this  fact,  and  acknowledged  him  as  their  un- 
disputed master.  In  the  councils  of  the  leaders  at  Troy ;  in  the 
quarrel  of  Agamemnon  and  Achilles ;  in  the  visit  of  the  chiefs 
to  the  tent  of  the  angry  hero ;  in  the  interview  of  Hector  and 
Andromache  ;  in  the  lamentations  over  the  dead  body  of  Hec- 
tor ;  in  the  appeals  to  the  courage  of  the  soldiers  on  the  eve  of 
battle, — Homer  undoubtedly  proved  himself  to  be  not  only  the 
greatest  poet  of  the  world,  but  possessed  of  all  the  qualities  and 
all  the  genius  of  the  greatest  orator.  Every  speech  is  suitable 
to  the  person  who  makes  it,  and  fitted  to  the  occasion  on  which 
it  is  made  and  to  the  audience  to  which  it  is  addressed. 
Whether  it  be  indignant  denunciation  or  pathetic  appeal, 
whether  it  be  reasoning  or  exhortation,  he  is  alike  master  of 
all  the  topics  of  persuasion,  of  all  the  arguments  that  can  con- 


122  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

vince,  of  all  the  words  and  thoughts  that  can  touch  the  heart 
or  satisfy  the  understanding.  From  the  time  of  Solon,  if  not 
earlier,  this  treasury  of  eloquence  was  open  to  the  Athenian 
youth.  The  poems  of  Homer  were  recited  in  public  and 
studied  in  private ;  many  an  Athenian  knew  them  by  heart ; 
and  every  Athenian  regarded  them  as  a  kind  of  sacred  scrip- 
ture. By  nature,  by  example,  by  the  influence  of  political  in- 
stitutions, the  Athenian  was  moulded  into  an  orator.  But 
during  the  growing  period  of  Athenian  power,  the  leading  men 
thought  more  of  action  than  of  eloquence.  Placed  as  they 
were,  they  had  to  spend  their  time  and  exercise  their  genius 
in  devising  plans  for  the  public  defence,  in  executing  the  de- 
crees of  the  people,  and  in  leading  the  troops  to  battle.  The 
gift  of  speech  was  an  instrument  to  effect  the  purpose  of  the 
moment,  —  not  a  means  of  securing  fame  for  itself  alone.  Even 
jiEschylus  —  the  sublimest  of  tragic  poets  —  thought  more  of 
Marathon  and  Salamis,  than  he  did  of  the  Prometheus  or  the 
Agamemnon. 

The  arts  of  eloquence,  however,  came  much  into  request 
with  the  multiplication  of  causes  in  the  courts,  and  with  the 
enlargement  of  the  political  relations  of  Athens.  Diplomatic 
intercourse  with  the  other  states  wras  maintained  by  the  liv- 
ing voice  of  the  orators,  sent  on  special  missions  to  address 
the  governments  of  those  states.  There  were  no  diplomatic 
notes  exchanged  by  resident  ministers ;  there  was  the  senate, 
,»r  the  assembly,  or  some  similar  body,  to  be  met  face  to  face  in 
argument.  It  would  not  answer  to  send  on  such  a  mission 
any  sensible  man  who  might  offer  himself.  He  must  be  master 
of  all  the  resources  of  reasoning  and  all  the  forms  of  speech,  as 
well  as  familiar  with  the  matter  to  be  dealt  with.  The  meet- 
ings of  the  deputies  at  the  Amphictyonic  assemblies  also  fur- 
nished occasions  which  demanded  ready  eloquence  ;  and  we 
accordingly  find  that  the  persons  chosen  to  represent  Athens, 
at  least  in  the  Amphictyonic  Assembly  at  Delphi  and  Thermop- 
ylae, were  among  the  ablest  debaters.  The  congresses  of  the 
confederates  made  similar  demands  upon  the  faculty  of  speech, 


ORIGIN   OF  ATTIC  ELOQUENCE.  123 

These  congresses  were  held  at  Athens,  at  Delos,  at  Corinth, 
at  Sparta ;  and  the  subjects  discussed  called  out  animated  ha- 
rangues from  all  the  leading  members.  Even  the  Spartans 
could  not  well  insist  upon  the  universal  adoption  of  their  La- 
conic style.  Once,  when  an  Athenian  ambassador  had  finished 
his  oration  to  the  assembly  there,  a  Spartan  rose  and  said,  "  I 
have  forgotten  the  beginning  of  your  speech,  and  I  do  not  un- 
derstand the  end."  But  before  the  Peloponnesian  war  broke 
out,  when  it  was  necessary  for  the  proud  old  Dorian  city  to 
take  counsel  with  her  allies,  she  had  to  submit  to  regular 
speeches,  as  we  know  from  Thucydides,  who  records  the  sub- 
stance of  their  debates.  The  conservative  Spartans,  no  doubt, 
denounced  the  innovation,  and  groaned  terribly  over  the  flood 
of  words  and  of  new  ideas  that  threatened  to  drown  the  Con- 
stitution of  Lycurgus.  But  it  was  of  no  avail ;  the  force  of 
circumstances  was  stronger  than  even  Spartan  prejudices,  and 
words  carried  the  day. 

The  increased  complication  of  the  laws,  and  the  variety  of 
cases  which  came  before  the  Attic  courts,  in  the  course  of  time 
required  a  class  of  men  like  the  modern  advocates.  Properly 
speaking,  there  was  no  bar  in  Athens.  The  plaintiff  and  the 
defendant,  the  prosecutor  and  the  accused,  were  compelled  to 
appear  personally  and  to  argue  the  cases  themselves.  But  it  is 
evident  that  this  could  not  always  be  done  ;  and  the  parties  in 
a  suit  or  prosecution  would  resort  for  advice  and  aid  to  persons 
who  were  known  or  supposed  to  be  familiar  with  the  laws  and 
skilful  in  preparing  an  argument.  Thus  a  class  of  lawyers  was 
called  into  existence  by  the  wants  of  the  public,  which  could 
not  dispense  with  their  aid.  The  counsellor  sometimes  pre- 
pared the  speech,  and  his  client  delivered  it  in  court.  This 
method  enabled  the  lawyer,  if  he  chose,  to  get  a  double  fee 
by  writing  on  both  sides,  though  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  this 
was  seldom  done.  By  degrees,  the  custom  naturally  arose  foi 
the  party  in  the  case  to  open  his  defence  or  his  accusation  in  a 
brief  speech,  and  then  to  ask  permission  of  the  court  for  his 
friend,  who  stood  by  him,  to  finish  the  argument.     Many  of 


124  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS  OF   GREECE. 

the  extant  speeches  of  the  Attic  orators  were  either  not  de- 
livered at  all  by  their  authors,  or  were  uttered  only  in  contin- 
uation of  an  argument  opened  by  the  litigant.  Demosthenes 
commenced  his  career  by  writing  speeches  for  others,  —  a  prac- 
tice with  which  ^Eschines  reproaches  him,  adding  that  he  was 
guilty  of  betraying  the  arguments  of  his  client  to  the  opposite 
party,  though  of  this  there  is  not  a  particle  of  proof.  The 
people  sometimes  appointed  advocates  to  manage  causes  in 
which  important  public  interests  were  at  stake,  or  when  a 
question  in  any  way  involving  the  city  was  to  be  argued  be- 
fore an  Amphictyonic  meeting.  On  one  occasion  jEschines 
was  thus  appointed ;  but  the  court  of  the  Areopagus  cancelled 
the  appointment,  on  the  ground  of  his  being  an  unsuitable 
person  to  represent  the  city,  and  selected  Hyperides  to  per- 
form the  duty.  If  the  accused  or  the  defendant  was  disabled 
from  any  cause,  the  court  allowed  the  advocate  to  speak  in  his 
stead.  Thus  Miltiades,  after  his  expedition  to  the  island  Pa- 
ros,  was  impeached  for  treason ;  but  having  received  a  severe 
wound  in  the  thigh,  which  made  it  necessary  to  bring  him  into 
court  on  a  litter,  his  brother  Tisagoras  addressed  the  court  in 
his  behalf. 

These  few  notices  will,  perhaps,  be  sufficient  to  give  an  idea 
of  the  position  and  functions  of  advocates  at  Athens,  but 
not  of  their  fees.  The  theory  at  the  outset  was,  that  the 
lawyer  appearing  for  his  friend  should  not  take  a  fee  ;  but  sc 
transcendental  a  doctrine  probably  never  gained  an  extensive 
assent  among  the  practical  members  of  the  profession.  In 
point  of  fact,  we  know  that  large  incomes  were  made  by  the 
able  men  —  such  as  Isaeus,  Lysias,  and  Isocrates  —  who  occu- 
pied themselves  with  this  as  the  business  of  their  lives.  The 
public  advocates  received  a  drachma  each  for  every  case  they 
managed  ;  so  that  the  honor  of  the  appointment  must  have  con- 
stituted the  principal  part  of  their  fee. 

In  this  state  of  things  the  art  of  rhetoric  naturally  began  to 
enter  into  the  education  of  a  young  man  who  aspired  to  be- 
come a  leader  in  Athenian   politics  ;   and   this   was  a  careei 


PERICLES.  125 

which  had  resistless  attractions  for  a  large  part  of  the  Athenian 
youth.  A  class  of  public  professors,  or  teachers,  called  Soph- 
ists, as  being  teachers  of  wisdom,  had  already  appeared  in 
Greece.  The  name  includes  men  of  the  most  opposite  char- 
acters ;  and  in  judging  of  them,  great  injustice  is  sometimes  done 
by  not  considering  this  fact.  Some  of  them  were  philosophi- 
cal teachers  of  the  highest  worth  and  accomplishments  ;  while 
others,  degenerate  professors  of  wisdom,  sought  only  to  impart 
the  false  and  glittering  craft  of  tickling  the  fancy  by  a  show 
of  knowledge,  without  real  knowledge,  and  of  corrupting  the 
heart  by  confounding  good  and  evil,  or  teaching  that  pleasure 
is  good  and  might  is  right.  No  doubt  many  young  Athenians 
were  led  astray  by  the  seductive  arts  of  these  men,  —  cheated 
by  them  into  the  belief  that  success  in  Athenian  politics  could 
be  secured  without  the  profound  and  life-long  study  which 
alone  can  make  the  true  statesman.  But  we  do  not  find  such 
among  the  real  leaders  of  the  Athenian  Demos. 

Closely  connected  with  the  Sophists,  and  sharing  their 
virtues  as  well  as  their  vices,  were  the  Rhetoricians.  It  is 
singular  that  the  earliest  scientific  expositions  of  the  principles 
of  rhetoric  should  have  been  made  by  Sicilian  Greeks.  Corax 
and  Tisias  are  named  as  the  inventors  —  that  is,  the  first  au- 
thors of  technical  systems  —  of  rhetoric  ;  Gorgias  of  Leontini 
—  known  to  the  Athenians  by  his  mission  to  the  city  and 
by  subsequent  visits  there,  known  to  fame  by  the  noble  Dia- 
logue of  Plato  which  bears  his  name  —  made  improvements 
in  the  art ;  but  it  was  in  Athens,  where  practice  preceded 
theory,  and  where  theory  was  restrained  by  practice,  that 
rhetoric,  as  a  science,  was  completed  and  perfected.  The 
Rhetoric  of  Aristotle  is  still  the  most  profound  and  masterly 
rhetorical  treatise  extant. 

The  intellectual  condition  of  the  Athenians  having  reached 
this  point,  there  appeared  a  young  main  who  was  destined, 
as  statesman,  orator,  and  ruler,  to  set  his  native  city  on  the 
highest  pinnacle  of  fame.  In  the  Vatican  there  are  several 
tLarble   busts  of  a    man  of  singular  beauty  of  countenance. 


126  CONSTITUTIONS   AND    ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

united  with  a  manly  dignity,  and  an  expression  of  powerv 
which  would  arrest  the  spectator's  gaze  were  no  name  in- 
scribed upon  the  plinth.  The  head  is  always  helmeted ;  but, 
though  a  skilful  general,  the  eminent  person  whose  features 
we  look  upon  was  most  distinguished  for  his  philosophical 
studies,  his  literary  tastes,  his  majestic  eloquence,  his  love  and 
appreciation  of  art,  his  elegant  manners,  his  profound  concep- 
tion of  the  duties  of  a  statesman,  and  the  unbending  firmness 
with  which  he  carried  his  patriotic  plans  into  execution.  We 
read  the  name,  —  it  is  Pericles,  son  of  Xanthippus,  the  Athe- 
nian. We  recall  then  the  single  weakness  of  the  great  man, 
who,  on  account  of  a  slight  disproportion  in  the  height  of  his 
otherwise  magnificent  head,  chose  to  go  helmeted  down  to 
posterity,  rather  than  to  have  it  said,  "  What  a  pity  the  head 
of  Pericles  had  that  one  little  fault!  "  It  is  said  that  every 
man  has  his  foibles.  That  of  Pericles  was  harmless  enough  ; 
but  I  have  often  wished  to  pull  the  helmet  off,  and  see  the 
princely  man  as  he  was  seen  by  the  friends  who  frequented 
the  saloon  of  Aspasia.  The  helmet  did  not  conceal  the  defect. 
The  comic  poets,  eager  for  any  topic  of  ridicule,  did  not  spare 
the  Olympian,  as,  in  the  midst  of  their  sarcasms,  they  could 
not  help  calling  him.  By  birth  Pericles  was  among  the 
noblest  Athenians  ;  his  mother  being  a  niece  of  Cleisthenes, 
and  so  connected  with  the  princes  of  Sicyon.  His  fortune 
was  ample,  without  being  excessive.  His  youth  was  passed  in 
careful  preparation  for  the  career  of  statesmanship,  by  a  much 
wider  range  of  literary  and  philosophical  study  than  had  before 
been  customary.  The  ablest  men  of  the  age,  in  every  depart- 
ment of  culture,  were  employed,  and  all  his  hours  were  oc- 
cupied in  the  most  regular  and  intense  devotion  to  the  most 
elevating  pursuits.  Pythocleides  instructed  him  in  music,  Da- 
mon in  political  science,  Zeno  of  Elea  in  logic ;  but  the  great 
teacher  who  exercised  the  profoundest  influence  in  moulding 
liis  character  was  Anaxagoras,  —  his  guide,  philosopher,  anc 
friend.  Anaxagoras  was  the  first  speculative  thinker  who 
clearly  announced  the  doctrine  that  the  system  of  the  universe 


PERICLES.  127 

is  the  combination  and  arrangement  of  an  intelligent  First 
Cause ;  and  his  life  and  teachings  were  in  harmony  with  this 
sublime  conception. 

By  birth  and  association  Pericles  belonged  to  tie  popular 
party,  although  connected  with  so  many  of  the  Eupatrid 
families.  He  first  appeared  in  public  life  in  the  year  B.  C. 
469 ;  and,  carrying  the  industrious  habits  he  had  formed  in  the 
course  of  his  education  into  his  new  pursuits,  he  devoted  him- 
self to  them  with  the  greatest  assiduity.  He  was  never  seen 
lounging  in  the  streets ;  he  was  never  present  at  a  convivial 
meeting  but  once,  and  that  was  on  the  occasion  of  the  mar- 
riage of  his  nephew.  He  had  but  few  intimate  friends,  and 
those  among  the  best  and  most  accomplished  persons.  He  was 
constant  in  his  attendance  at  the  assembly,  but  was  not  over 
eager  to  mingle  in  every  debate.  Even  the  measures  he 
desired  to  carry  were  often  proposed  by  one  or  another  of  his 
adherents,  while  he  reserved  his  own  eloquence  for  great  occa- 
sions. He  never  spoke  without  the  most  careful  preparation ; 
and  in  this  respect  he  must  be  considered  chronologically  as 
the  earliest  of  the  Attic  orators.  Suidas  states  that  he  was 
the  first  man  who  ever  spoke  a  written  speech  in  the  court, 
all  before  his  time  having  extemporized.  In  the  management 
of  his  fortune  he  was  liberal,  yet  economical ;  for  he  would 
not  have  his  integrity  suspected,  and  he  therefore  would  not 
attempt,  with  his  moderate  means,  to  rival  the  lavish  expendi- 
ture of  Cimon. 

Pericles  carried  many  measures  which  were  denounced  by 
the  aristocratic  party.  He  procured  the  passage  of  a  law  that 
the  poorer  citizens  might  receive  two  obols  apiece  for  admit- 
tance to  the  dramatic  exhibitions,  in  order  that  the  whole 
people  might  share  in  the  benefit  of  the  representations  which 
were  connected  with  one  of  the  oldest  of  their  religious  rites. 
I  think  that  it  is  an  injustice  ti,  Pericles  to  suppose  that  he 
merely  desired  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  people  by  pro- 
moting their  amusements.  It  was  no  amusement  to  listen 
lo  a  tragedy  of  iEschylus  or  Sophocles,  — it  was  a  great  de 


128  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

light  doubtless ;  but  you  might  as  well  call  it  an  amusement 
to  hear  the  grandest  sermon  that  Jeremy  Taylor  ever  deliv- 
ered, as  to  call  it  an  amusement  to  go  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning  and  hear  the  Agamemnon  of  JEschylus  performed  in 
the  great  Dionysiac  Theatre  at  Athens.  The  people  that  could 
relish  such  a  representation  were  not  the  coarse,  illiterate,  vul- 
gar mob  they  are  sometimes  supposed  to  have  been.  It  was 
Pericles,  also,  who  procured  laws  for  the  payment  of  the  He- 
liastic  jurors  and  of  other  public  servants, — measures  whose 
obvious  justice  should  have  saved  their  author  from  the  cen- 
sures unthinkingly  cast  upon  him.  It  was  right  that  men 
should  be  paid  for  the  work  they  did  for  the  public.  It  was 
right  that  poor  men  should  hear  the  grand  teachings  of  jEschy- 
lus,  as  it  is  right  that  the  poor  should  have  the  Gospel  preached 
to  them.  That  all  these  privileges  were  afterwards  abused  is 
true.  The  abuses  are  to  be  condemned,  and  the  men  who, 
perverting  good  things  to  evil  uses,  led  the  people  astray,  are 
to  be  condemned.  Pericles,  I  think,  was  right.  He  carried 
out  his  principles  steadily  and  consistently,  from  the  beginning 
to  the  end. 

He  was  not  permitted,  however,  to  go  on  without  the  usual 
political  conflicts.  Cimon  was  the  leader  opposed  to  him,  as  a 
defender  of  the  more  aristocratic  system  ;  but  Pericles,  though 
ordered  to  conduct  an  impeachment  of  his  adversary,  ab- 
stained from  putting  forth  his  power,  and  his  opponent  was 
acquitted.  Next,  he  limited  the  somewhat  indefinite  juris- 
diction of  the  Areopagus.  For  this  attempt  he  was  severely 
denounced,  and  even  the  austere  genius  of  iEschylus  came 
to  the  rescue  of  that  ancient  and  venerable  court.  It  was 
a  bold  thing  to  attempt ;  but  the  restriction  of  its  irresponsible 
authority  seems,  so  far  as  we  can  judge  at  this  distance  of 
time,  to  have  been  founded  on  wise  policy.  The  ostracism 
of  Cimon,  which  soon  followed,  was  less  justifiable,  or  rather 
was  wholly  unjustifiable ;  but  •  Pericles  repaired  the  wrong 
of  a  pernicious  institution  by  soon  afterwards  proposing  the 
iecree  for  his  recall. 


PERICLES.  129 

Among  the  noblest  conceptions  of  this  great  statesman  was 
the  plan  he  formed  for  uniting  all  the  Greek  states  in  a  single 
powerful  confederation.  He  moved  a  decree,  inviting  all  the 
Greeks  of  Europe  and  Asia  to  send  representatives  to  a  con- 
gress to  be  held  at  Athens,  for  the  discussion  of  a  project  for 
lasting  peace  and  union  among  the  Grecian  states,  together 
with  the  subordinate  topics  of  rebuilding  the  temples  left  in 
ruins  by  the  Persian  invasion,  and  of  securing  freedom  of  navi- 
gation in  the  Grecian  seas.  Twenty  men,  selected  from  the 
most  discreet  citizens  over  fifty  years  of  age,  were  sent  among 
the  states  to  urge  the  adoption  of  this  plan.  It  is  one  of 
the  sins  for  which  the  Dorian  obstinacy  and  jealousy  must 
answer  at  the  bar  of  history,  that  they  intrigued  successfully 
to  prevent  the  success  of  a  scheme  at  once  far-reaching,  wise, 
and  absolutely  necessary,  not  only  to  the  future  welfare,  but 
to  the  very  safety  of  Greece.  It  was  as  if,  when  our  fa- 
thers proposed  to  make  a  durable  union,  under  a  constitution 
which  might  forever  secure  internal  peace  and  external  pros- 
perity, one  half  of  the  States,  whose  institutions  were  different 
from  ours,  had  set  themselves  in  opposition,  and  prevented 
the  wisest  and  most  fortunate  scheme  of  government  ever 
conceived  by  sage  or  enjoyed  by  freemen  from  being  success- 
fully carried  into  operation.  Pericles  must  have  learned  the 
result  of  his  nobly  patriotic  attempt  with  a  foreboding  soul. 
No  one  understood  better  than  he  the  Spartan  character  and 
institutions,  both  of  which  he  had  profoundly  studied  and 
vigilantly  watched.  He  saw  that  the  only  hope  of  averting 
a  deadly  war  was  by  bringing  Ionians  and  Dorians  into  a 
strong  union,  founded  on  common  interests,  and  perpetuated 
by  some  central  authority  that  could  govern  both  and  keep 
them  from  flying  at  each  other's  throats.  It  seems  to  me  that 
Pericles  has  never  had  the  honor  he  deserves  for  this  most 
statesmanlike  scheme,  and  for  the  deep  insight  which  led  him 
to  comprehend  all  its  importance ;  and  I  will  add,  that  our 
own  national  experience  offers  the  first  thoroughly  satisfactory 
tommentary  on  the  wisdom  of  the  Athenian  statesman. 


ltfO  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF    GREECfc. 

Having  failed  in  the  project  of  a  general  union  of  the 
Greeks,  he  resolved  to  make  Athens  the  most  illustrious  city 
in  the  world  ;  and  he  fulfilled  his  resolution.  He  crowned 
the  Acropolis  with  wonders  of  architecture  which  no  other 
city  has  approached;  he  filled  the  temples  and  public  squares 
with  sculptures,  whose  fragments  are  the  teachers  of  modern 
artists,  as  they  gaze  upon  them  with  delight,  wonder,  and 
despair;  he  caused  the  masterpieces  of  tragedy  and  comedy 
to  crowd  the  Dionysiac  Theatre  at  the  great  festivals ;  and  he 
connected  Ins  own  name  with  the  most  important  and  brilliant 
period  in  the  history  of  culture  and  civilization.  He  was" 
moderate  in  his  counsels,  and  always  opposed  extravagant 
schemes  of  foreign  conquest.  Had  he  lived  longer,  no  Sicilian 
expedition  would  have  decimated  the  youth  of  Athens,  and 
sent  the  miserable  survivors  of  a  defeated  army  to  die  in  the 
quarries  of  Syracuse. 

His  eloquence  was  always,  not  only  stately,  but  effective. 
We  have  none  of  his  speeches  entire.  Though  written,  and 
carefully  polished,  they  have  disappeared.  Plutarch  preserves 
a  few  passages,  and  Thucydides  gives  us  three  orations,  at 
some  length.  "  .JSgina,"  said  he  in  one  of  his  harangues, 
"  is  the  eye-sore  of  the  Peiraeus "  ;  in  another,  "  I  see  war 
advancing  from  the  Peloponnesus."  After  the  Samian  expe- 
lition,  in  which  he  had  led  the  Athenian  arms  to  victory,  he 
was  appointed  to  deliver  the  eulogy  on  those  who  had  fallen 
in  battle.  Of  this  Stesimbrotus  has  preserved  the  following 
sentences.  "  They  have  become  immortal  like  the  gods.  We 
do  not  behold  the  gods  in  the  body  ;  but  we  know  by  the 
honors  they  receive,  and  the  blessings  they  bestow,  that  they 
are  immortal  ;  and  such  is  the  condition  of  those  who  die  for 
their  country." 

Aristophanes,  in  "  The  Acharnians,"  says :    "  Pericles  the 

Olympian  lightened,  thundered,  roused  up  all  Greece."     He 

was  at  the  height  of  his  influence  when   the  war  which  he 

.ad  seen  advancing  from  the  Peloponnesus  burst  upon  Attica. 

The  weight  of  his  character  and  the  grandeur  of  his  eloquence 


PERICLES.  131 

controlled  the  policy  of  the  Athenians.  Thucydides,  as  I  have 
already  mentioned,  reports  the  substance  of  three  of  his  ad- 
dresses ;  —  first,  a  masterly  exposition  of  the  necessity  of  re- 
sisting the  Spartans,  and  of  the  resources  of  the  Athenians  ; 
secondly,  the  funeral  oration  which  he  pronounced  by  public 
appointment  over  those  who  fell  in  the  first  year  of  the  war, 
B.  C.  431;  and  thirdly,  his  defence  of  himself  before  the  people 
after  the  second  invasion  of  Attica  by  the  Peloponnesians. 
Of  these  the  funeral  oration  has  the  greatest  general  interest. 
It  is  not  only  an  elaborate  eulogy  upon  the  heroic  dead,  but 
a  most  able  exhibition  of  the  merits  of  the  Constitution  of 
Athens,  her  social  life,  and  her  claims,  as  tacitly  contrasted 
with  Sparta,  to  the  leadership  among  the  Hellenic  common- 
wealths. Such  a  country,  so  liberal,  so  generous,  so  free, 
is  entitled  to  the  love  of  her  children,  and  must  be  defended 
at  the  hazard  of  life  itself.  '*  We  enjoy,"  said  he,  "  a  form 
of  government  which  needs  not  to  imitate  the  laws  of  neigh- 
boring states  ;  for  we  are  ourselves  their  model."  He  shows 
in  what  manner  the  Athenian  institutions  secured,  not  only 
equality  of  rights  before  the  law,  but  a  generous  mutual 
confidence  in  the  intercourse  of  private  life,  cherishing  obe- 
dience to  the  magistrate,  and  a  refined  sense  of  honor  which 
submitted  to  the  unwritten  laws  of  noble  conduct,  both  from 
the  self-respect  of  gentlemen  and  from  a  feeling  of  the  shame 
justly  attached  to  their  violation  by  public  opinion.  He  ap- 
peals to  their  patriotic  pride  in  the  great  achievements  of  their 
ancestors  and  in  their  own  deeds  of  valor. 

Unhappily  for  Athens,  in  the  second  year  of  the  war,  the 
pestilence  struck  the  city,  sweeping  off  multitudes  of  the 
crowded  population,  and  demoralizing  the  survivors.  Pericles 
was  bereaved  of  two  of  his  sons,  and  of  many  relatives  and 
friends ;  and  a  lingering  fever,  perhaps  a  broken  heart,  sent 
him  to  the  tomb  just,  at  the  moment  when  his  great  abilities 
und  his  unbending  integrity  were  most  needed  by  his  country, 
overwhelmed  by  the  calamities  of  war  and  pestilence.  Thu- 
cydides   draws   his   character   in    a   few   brief   and    pregnant 


132  THE   LIFE   OF   GREECE. 

sentences,  with  which  I  close  this  Lectui'e.  "  During  the 
whole  time  that  he  stood  at  the  head  of  the  state  in  peace, 
he  governed  it  with  moderation  and  watched  over  its  safety. 
Under  him  it  rose  to  the  highest  pitch  of  greatness.  After 
the  war  broke  out,  it  was  seen  that  he  had  a  true  conception 
of  its  magnitude.  After  his  death  his  foresight  in  relation  to 
the  war  was  still  more  clearly  recognized.  The  cause  of  his 
influence  was,  that,  powerful  in  dignity  of  character  and  wis- 
dom, and  having  conspicuously  shown  himself  the  most  incor- 
ruptible of  men,  he  curbed  the  people  freely,  and  led  them, 
instead  of  being  led  by  them.  For  he  did  not  speak  to  gain 
their  present  favor,  endeavoring  to  win  power  by  unbecoming 
means ;  but  he  dared  to  brave  their  anger,  while  holding  fast 
to  his  own  dignity  and  honor.  The  Constitution  was  a  democ- 
racy in  name ;  but  in  fact  it  was  the  government  of  the  most 
distinguished  citizen." 


LECTURE    VIII 

«ENIUS   AND   SERVICES   OF  PERICLES.  —  ATHENS   IN   THE 
TIMES   OF  PERICLES. 

The  life  of  Pericles  offered  tragical  contrasts.  Nobly  born, 
splendidly  endowed  with  intellectual  gifts,  educated  in  the  most 
liberal  manner  in  all  the  learning  and  accomplishments  of  the 
age,  coming  into  public  life  in  the  early  vigor  of  the  Constitu- 
tion which  Cleisthenes  had  amended,  with  the  favoring  gales 
of  popular  applause,  it  seemed  as  if  a  fortunate  and  happy  ca- 
reer lay  open  before  him.  By  his  wisdom  and  transcendent 
genius  he  governed  Athens  forty  years.  The  ends  he  aimed 
at  were  his  country's ;  his  motives  were  noble  ;  and  the  means 
by  which  he  sought  to  carry  out  his  plans  were,  for  the  most 
part,  just  and  generous.  He  rose  to  distinction  by  the  most 
legitimate  means,  —  by  the  influence  of  genius,  prudence,  and 
integrity.  Unlike  Peisistratus,  he  had  no  armed  retinue.  He 
had  resorted  to  no  legerdemain  to  build  his  power  on  the  basis 
of  popular  superstition.  His  political  principles  were  liberal, 
but  not  radical ;  his  political  action  was  clear,  decided,  saga- 
cious, but  considerate  and  magnanimous.  In  the  antagonism 
of  public  life  he  was  never  violent  nor  vindictive. 

The  treasury  of  Delos  was  removed  to  Athens  in  461 
B.  C. ;  the  contributions  were  raised  from  four  hundred  and 
sixty  to  six  hundred  talents,  perhaps  by  adding  new  members 
to  the  confederacy;  and  Athens,  by  the  force  of  circumstances, 
was  placed  in  the  position  of  an  imperial  or  despot  city.  That 
6he  did  not  always  exercise  her  power  discreetly  or  generously 
is  very  certain.  The  Demos,  like  other  despots,  sometimes 
showed  himself  a  tyrant,  and  made  the  subject  cities,  as  he  was 


134  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

fond  of  regarding  them,  groan  under  his  oppressions  and  exac- 
tions. Pericles  restrained  his  excesses  with  a  strong  hand;  and 
it  was  not  until  after  that  statesman's  death  that  the  worst  of 
them  were  committed.  But  Pericles  favored  a  system  of  pub- 
lic expenditure,  the  object  of  which  was  to  make  the  city 
of  Athens  the  most  superb  of  capitals.  The  end  was  worthy 
of  his  profound  genius  and  cultivated  taste ;  but  his  political 
opponents  censured  the  means  to  which  he  resorted.  They 
opposed  the  removal  of  the  treasure,  which  they  said  belonged 
to  the  confederacy,  and  not  to  Athens  alone.  It  was  answered, 
that,  if  Athens  performed  her  part  of  the  contract,  and  defended 
the  states  with  her  fleets,  she  had  a  right  to  do  what  she  would 
with  the  treasure.  They  attacked  his  expenditures.  Pericles 
offered  to  pay  for  the  public  works  from  his  own  fortune,  if 
the  people  would  allow  his  name  to  be  inscribed  upon  them  ; 
but  the  people  said,  No :  they  were  not  going  to  be  deprived 
of  the  glory  of  connecting  their  own  fame  with  such  magnifi- 
cent works.  They  had  been  trained  to  appreciate  the  refine- 
ments of  art ;  and  they  could  not  think  of  saving  money  at 
the  cost  of  their  artistical  reputation.  The  treasury  was  run- 
ning over.  Gold  in  ingots,  gold  in  coin,  silver,  —  the  income 
of  the  customs,  and  the  contributions  of  the  confederates,  — 
solid  metal,  and  not  bank-notes, — fell  upon  the  city  like  Da- 
nae's  golden  shower.  And  so  they  voted  all  that  Pericles 
asked;  and  the  Propylasa  and  the  Parthenon  and  the  Erech- 
theium  went  up,  and  the  bronze  Athene  took  her  station,  spear 
in  hand,  looking  down  on  the  city  she  protected. 

Pericles  had  heavy  trials  to  bear,  besides  the  bitterness  of 
political  opposition.  He  married  the  divorced  wife  of  Hippo- 
nieus,  and  the  marriage  was  not  fortunate.  His  oldest  son, 
Xanthippus,  was  a  graceless  reprobate,  and  died  of  the  pesti- 
lence. Paralus,  his  second  son,  was  soon  afterwards  swept 
away  by  the  same  dread  disease.  Only  one  son  was  left,  the 
son  of  Aspasia,  whom  Pericles  had  married  after  divorcing  his 
first  wife ;  but  by  the  laws  of  Athens,  this  son  —  his  mother 
being  a  foreigner  —  was  not  a  legal  citizen.     The  people,  how- 


GENIUS   AND   SERVICES   OF   PERICLES.  135 

ever,  pitying  the  solitary  condition  of  the  illustrious  statesman, 
voted  the  rights  of  citizenship  to  his  son,  and  authorized  him  to 
take  his  father's  name.  Aspasia  herself  was  brought  before 
the  courts  on  a  criminal  charge  by  one  of  his  enemies ;  but 
the  eloquence  of  Pericles  successfully  defended  her.  Anax- 
agoras,  his  noble  friend  and  teacher,  was  prosecuted,  and  had 
to  leave  the  city,  to  which  he  never  returned.  Pheidias,  the 
sculptor,  to  whom  Pericles  was  warmly  attached,  was  charged 
with  pilfering  a  part  of  the  gold  furnished  to  adorn  the  statue 
of  the  goddess.  The  ornaments  were  taken  off  and  weighed ; 
and  the  accusation  was  triumphantly  refuted.  The  attack  was 
renewed,  on  the  frivolous  accusation  that  he  had  introduced 
portraits  of  himself  and  Pericles  in  the  sculptures  on  the  shield 
of  Athene,  and  he  was  thrown  into  prison.  In  all  these  en- 
counters with  adverse  fortune  and  with  enemies,  the  brilliant 
Athenian  lost  his  self-possession  but  twice,  —  once  when  he 
was  obliged  to  defend  his  wife  before  a  court  of  his  country- 
men, and  again  when  the  pestilence  struck  down  his  second 
and  favorite  son.  On  his  death-bed,  while  his  friends  standing 
about  him  were  extolling  his  great  achievements,  he  simply  re- 
marked, that  he  considered  it  his  greatest  glory  that  no  Athe- 
nian citizen  "had  worn  mourning  on  his  account."  It  was  not 
the  memory  of  achievements  on  the  field,  or  of  his  triumphs 
in  the  popular  assembly,  it  was  not  even  the  Propylaea  and 
the  Parthenon,  that  came  with  consolation  to  his  last  hours ;  it 
was  no  earthly  glory,  no  title  to  fame,  on  which  his  calm  and 
clear  mind  dwelt  in  that  supreme  moment :  it  was  the  simple 
thought  —  a  thought  which  few  public  men  of  the  ancient 
world  could  truly  entertain  —  that,  in  his  long  course  of  pub- 
lic administration,  he  had  not  shed  a  drop  of  human  blood ; 
and  with  this  sublime  tribute  on  his  lips  to  the  superior  noble- 
ness of  the  gentler  virtues,  the  most  illustrious  Athenian  of  his 
age  expired. 

The  prosperity  which  his  great  works  brought  to  Athena 
m  the  encouragement  of  genius  and  in  the  demands  for  me- 
chanical skill  is  vividly  described  in  a  passage  of  Plutarch.    The 


136  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OP   GREECE. 

purchase  and  transportation  of  so  many  materials,  whether 
from  other  parts  of  Attica  or  from  more  distant  regions  of 
Greece  ;  the  quarrying  of  the  marbles  of  Pentencus,  Paros, 
Eleusis,  and  of  the  ruder  material  called  the  Peiraic  stone, 
used  often  for  floors  and  basements;  the  gold,  silver,  ivory,  and 
brass  ;  the  different  kinds  of  timber,  much  of  which  must  have 
been  brought  from  distant  forests, —  employed  great  numbers  of 
contractors,  and  whole  armies  of  artisans,  who,  working  under 
the  stimulus  of  good  pay,  and  with  an  order  and  system  which 
must  have  been  admirably  conceived  and  carried  out  in  order 
to  accomplish  so  much  in  so  short  a  time,  diffused  an  activ- 
ity, contentment,  and  universal  industry  which  Athens  never 
saw  before,  and  perhaps  will  never  see  again.  If  we  judge  by 
the  results,  and  their  permanent  influence  on  the  course  of 
civilization,  these  few  years,  between  the  commencement  of 
the  public  works  of  Pericles  and  the  breaking  out  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  war,  must  be  considered  as  constituting  one' of  the 
most  important  periods. 

It  was  fortunate  for  Athens  and  for  the  world,  that  a  man 
like  Pheidias  was  found  to  co-operate  with  Pericles  in  carrying 
his  plans  into  execution.  The  genius  of  this  great  artist,  —  at 
once  various  and  sublime,  —  practical  as  if  his  whole  life  had 
been  passed  as  a  master  workman,  but  with  a  fiery  imagination 
that  could  reproduce  the  Homeric  conception  of  the  father  of 
gods  and  men,  —  uniting  rapidity  of  execution  with  exquisite 
finish,  —  this  unrivalled  genius  for  plastic  art,  unrivalled  in 
all  the  ages  that  have  passed  since  his  day,  was  wonderfully, 
one  may  say  providentially,  adapted  to  the  work  for  which 
Pericles  summoned  him.  It  was  the  union  of  these  two  ex- 
traordinary men  that  made  the  wonderful  creations  of  that 
age  possible.  He  was  a  little  younger  than  Pericles,  who  had 
been  in  public  life  eight  or  nine  years  when  Pheidias,  having 
studied  under  Ageladas  and  Hegesias,  began  to  be  known. 
From  this  time,  B.  C.  460,  to  B'.  C.  432,  every  year  was  sig- 
nalized by  the  production  of  works  which  are  pronounced,  bj 
the  unanimous  consent  of  artists,  the  highest  achievements  of 


ATHENS  IN  THE   TIMES   OF   PERICLES.  137 

the  genius  of  man  in  sculpture  and  in  every  department  of 
sculpture.  One  year  before  the  breaking  out  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesian  war  this  illustrious  ornament  of  human  nature  died.  He 
was  spared  the  sight  of  the  calamities  which  were  impending 
over  the  city  he  had  so  adorned  and  honored.  He  heard  the 
distant  threatenings  of  the  war,  but  saw  not  its  approach ;  he 
witnessed  not  the  dreadful  scenes  of  the  pestilence ;  and,  above 
all,  he  did  not  live  to  mourn  the  death  of  the  noblest  of  his 
friends,  and  to  behold  the  desolation  of  that  friend's  household 
hearth.  He  died  at  the  culminating  moment  of  the  glory  of 
Athens,  in  the  meridian  light  of  his  genius  and  the  highest 
splendor  of  his  fame. 

What  is  there  of  the  creations  of  Pheidias  ?  What  of  the 
Athens  of  Pericles  ?  To  find  the  Athens  of  Pericles  you 
must  go  to  Rome,  to  Florence,  to  Munich,  to  Berlin,  ti 
Paris,  to  London.  Especially,  would  you  study  the  genius 
of  Pheidias,  you  must  give  days  and  weeks  and  months  to  the 
Elgin  marbles  in  the  British  Museum.  There  you  will  find 
colossal  figures  from  the  divine  assemblies  on  the  pediments 
of  the  Parthenon,  —  from  the  metopes,  groups  of  the  Centaurs 
and  the  Lapithae,  exploits  of  Theseus,  and  a  large  part  of  the 
Panathenaic  procession,  —  all  constituting  the  very  flower  of 
the  Periclean  age  and  of  the  genius  of  Pheidias.  But  Athens 
still  stands ;  the  Parthenon  —  venerable  and  touching  in  its 
ruins  —  still  surmounts  the  Acropolis;  the  Propylaea  still  admit 
the  traveller  into  the  sacred  enclosure,  which  contains  myriads 
of  fragments,  eacli  marked  with  some  memorial  phrase  or  some 
token  of  departed  greatness.  Epaminondas,  in  the  assembly 
of  the  Thebans,  said,  as  if  he  could  by  no  other  expression 
so  strongly  embody  his  patriotic  hopes:  "We  must  transport 
the  Propylaea  of  the  Acropolis  of  Athens,  and  place  them  in 
front  of  the  Cadmeia."  Demosthenes,  in  the  following  century, 
testified,  in  a  fine  passage  in  one  of  his  orations:  "The  people 
were  never  inspired  by  the  desire  of  wealth  ;  but  by  the  love  of 
glory,  as  by  nothing  else.  The  proof  is,  that,  having  come  into 
possession  of  greater  treasures  than  all  the  rest  of  the  Greeks. 


138  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

they  expended  everything  for  honor.  Contributing  from  their 
private  resources,  they  shrank  from  no  danger  in  the  cause  ot 
glory.  Therefore  they  have  left  us  immortal  possessions,— 
the  memory  of  illustrious  deeds,  and  the  beauty  of  the  works 
consecrated  to  them,  —  yonder  Propylaea,  the  Parthenon,  the 
porticos,  th<;  ship-houses."  As  he  spoke,  he  pointed  to  the 
temples,  porticos,  and  statues  in  the  Agora  around  him ;  and 
above,  on  the  ascent  to  the  Acropolis,  to  the  Propylaea,  the 
flight  of  marble  steps,  the  Doric  front,  the  marble  wall  with  five 
entrances,  and  the  magnificent  bronze  gates,  to  the  temple  of 
Wingless  Victory  on  the  right,  and,  within,  to  the  Athene  Pro- 
machos,  t/.e  Parthenon,  the  Erechtheium,  and  a  city  of  heroes, 
demigod^,  and  gods.  Five  centuries  later,  Plutarch,  who  was  a 
frequent  visitor  in  Athens,  wrote :  "  These  works  appear,  at 
the  present  moment,  fresh  and  newly  wrought ;  they  seem  to 
wear  the  bloom  of  perpetual  youth,  their  glow  untouched  by 
time,  as  if  they  breathed  the  breath  of  immortality."  Later 
still,  PHlostratus  said :  "  The  Propylaea  and  the  Parthenon 
suffice "  to  gratify  the  aspirations  of  Pericles."  And  well  they 
miglit  nave  filled  even  his  aspirations. 

Ap  so  large  a  portion  of  these  Lectures  relates  to  Athens,  — 
indeed,  it  is  surprising  how  large  a  part  of  all  our  associations 
with  Greece  belong  to  Athens  exclusively,  —  and  as  the  scene 
of  the  remainder  of  the  course,  on  the  Orators  of  Greece, 
must  necessarily  be  laid  in  Athens,  I  have  thought  it  would 
not  be  unacceptable  to  take  a  walk  round  the  present  city,  and 
see  how  much  of  the  ancient  Athens  is  still  in  Athens.  The 
maps  and  diagrams  before  you  will,  I  trust,  give  you  as  good 
an  idea  as  you  can  have  without  going  thither. 

The  visitor  enters  the  Peiraeus,  where  the  foundations,  and, 
in  places,  four  or  five  courses  of  the  ancient  walls,  may  be 
traced  round  the  harbor,  which  was  closed  by  a  chain  thrown 
across  it  from  opposite  towers.  The  wall  then  continues 
round  the  Munychian  hill,  and  encloses  the  beautiful  little  cir- 
cular harbor  of  Munychia,  where  are  the  foundations  of  the 
undent  vewcroiKoi,  —  ship-houses,  —  with  portions  of  the  walls. 


ATHENS  IN   THE   TIMES   OF   PERICLES.  139 

Passing  through  the  Peiraeus,  just  as  we  leave  the  town  we 
find  considerable  portions  of  the  Long  Walls ;  but,  on  the  way 
to  Athens,  not  another  trace. 

[Most  of  the  residue  of  this  Lecture  was  given  extemporaneously, 
from  the  author's  fresh  and  vivid  recollections  of  Athens.  His  man- 
uscript from  this  point  contains  merely  the  names  of  the  sites  and 
ruins  which  he  successively  described,  and  the  following  paragraphs, 
which  we  print  without  attempting  to  supply  the  intervening  blanks. 
—  Editor.] 

The  Theseium  is  used  as  a  museum  of  ancient  sculptures. 
Many  monumental  stelce  of  the  most  interesting  character,  with 
beautiful  groups  in  low  relief,  and  touching  funereal  inscriptions, 
are  collected  there.  But  the  most  curious  and  important  mar- 
bles are  a  series  of  slabs,  found  (in  1834)  in  the  Peiraeus,  con- 
taining records  of  the  Athenian  navy ;  lists  of  ships,  with  their 
names ;  inventories  of  rigging  and  furniture  ;  names  of  ship- 
builders ;  names  of  statesmen,  such  as  Demades  and  Demos- 
thenes, who  were  connected  with  the  naval  service ;  and 
numerous  other  interesting  and  valuable  particulars.  These 
inscriptions  are  very  clearly  cut,  and,  except  where  the  marble 
has  been  broken,  are  easily  read;  and  they  cover  a  considerable 
portion  of  the  public  life  of  Demosthenes.  The  temple  of  The- 
seus, as  we  have  already  stated,  is  one  of  the  best  preserved 
buildings  in  Greece.  It  is  of  the  Doric  order,  104  feet  in. 
length  by  45  in  breadth.  It  has  six  columns  at  each  end,  and 
thirteen  on  each  side,  of  3  feet  4  inches  in  diameter,  and  1& 
feet  high.  From  the  stylobate  to  the  upper  angle  of  the 
pediment,  the  height  is  31  feet.  The  sculptures  on  the  pedi- 
ments are  all  lost.  Those  on  the  metopes  are  supposed  to  re- 
late to  the  labors  of  Hercules  and  Theseus. 

Of  the  vast  temple  of  Olympian  Zeus,  the  platform  on  which 
it  stood,  and  sixteen  Corinthian  columns,  one  of  which  was 
overthrown  in  1852  by  a  hurricane,  are  all  that  remain.  The 
peribolus  of  the  temple  was  680  feet  long  and  463  broad ;  the 
temple  itself,  354  feet  Dy  171.     It  had  ten  columns  on  each 


140  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

front,  and  probably  twenty  on  each  side  ;  the  height  from  the 
pavement  to  the  top  of  the  capitals,  55  feet  3  inches ;  the  di- 
ameter at  the  base,  6  feet  4  inches.  The  statue  of  the  god  was 
of  ivory  and  gold. 

Near  the  theatre  of  Bacchus  still  stands  the  choragic  monu- 
ment of  Lysicrates,  erected  on  the  Street  of  Tripods  in  335 
B.  C,  to  commemorate  a  musical  victory.  It  is  a  circular 
structure,  eight  feet  in  diameter,  standing  on  a  square  base, 
its  whole  height  being  about  thirty-four  feet.  It  is  the  earliest 
specimen  of  Corinthian  architecture.  This  exquisite  little 
monument  was  saved  from  destruction  by  having  been  built 
into  the  walls  of  a  monastery.  The  monastery  is  now  in 
ruins  ;  but  the  monument  of  Lysicrates  stands  almost  com- 
plete. The  tripod  by  which  it  was  surmounted  is  gone,  but 
the  inscription  on  the  architrave  is  still  legible. 

But  the  noblest  works  of  the  Athenian  architects  were  on 
the  Acropolis.  The  ascent  is  at  the  western  end.  The  chief 
buildings  of  the  Periclean  age  on  this  citadel  were  the  Propy- 
lsea,  the  Erechtheium,  and  the  Parthenon.  The  Propylsea 
served  at  once  as  an  architectural  embellishment  and  a  mili- 
tary defence  of  the  Acropolis.  Among  the  ancients  they  were 
more  admired  than  even  the  Parthenon,  for  the  skill  with 
which  the  difficulties  of  the  ground  were  overcome,  and  for 
the  grandeur  of  the  general  effect.  The  approach  was  a  flight 
of  sixty  marble  steps,  and  was  seventy  feet  broad.  At  the  top 
of  the  steps  was  a  portico  of  six  fluted  Doric  columns,  5  feet  in 
diameter,  29  feet  high.  Each  of  the  side  wings,  on  platforms 
78  feet  apart,  had  three  Doric  columns,  fronting  upon  the 
grand  staircase.  The  north  wing  contained  the  Pinacotheca,  a 
hall  35  feet  by  30  ;  the  hall  of  the  south  wing  was  27  feet  by 
16.  Behind  the  Doric  hexastyle  was  a  magnificent  hall  60  feet 
broad,  44  feet  deep,  and  39  feet  high,  with  a  marble  ceiling 
resting  on  enormous  beams,  supported  by  three  Ionic  columns 
on  each  side  of  the  passage.      At  the  east  end  of  this  hall  was? 


ATHENS  IN  THE   TIMES   OF  PERICLES.  141 

the  ivall,  through  which  there  were  five  entrances,  with  doora 
or  gates.  The  central  opening,  through  which  the  Panathe- 
naic  procession  passed,  was  13  feet  wide,  24  feet  high  ;  those 
next  the  central  were,  on  each  side,  9£  feet  wide,  and  the 
smallest  5  feet,  the  height  varying  in  proportion.  These  gates 
were  the  only  public  entrances  into  the  Acropolis.  Within 
the  wall,  on  the  eastern  side,  was  another  hall  19  feet  deep, 
its  floor  elevated  about  ty  feet  above  the  western  side,  and 
terminated  by  another  Doric  portico,  of  six  columns.  The 
pediments  and  ceilings  of  this  admh'able  structure  have  been 
destroyed.  Most  of  the  columns  remain,  some  of  them  entire, 
and  others  more  or  less  broken,  with  heavy  fragments  of  the 
architraves.  Passing  through  the  Propylsea,  we  come  to  the 
Erechtheium,  on  the  left  or  northern  side  of  the  Acropolis,  and 
the  Parthenon  on  the  right,  near  the  southern  or  Cimonian 
wall.  The  form  of  the  singular  structure  first  mentioned  was 
oblong,  with  a  portico  of  six  Ionic  columns  at  the  east  end,  a 
kind  of  transept  at  the  west,  a  portico  of  four  columns  on  the 
north,  and  the  portico  of  the  Caryatides,  standing  on  a  base- 
ment eight  feet  high,  on  the  south.  At  the  western  end  there 
is  a  basement,  on  which  are  four  Ionic  columns,  only  half  de- 
tached from  the  wall,  and  supporting  a  pediment.  The  eastern 
and  western  divisions  of  the  temple  are  on  different  levels, 
the  eastern  being  eight  feet  higher  than  the  western.  Enough 
remains  of  this  extraordinary  and  beautiful  edifice  to  give  a 
perfectly  correct  idea  of  its  outward  form ;  but  the  interior  is 
in  so  ruinous  a  condition  that  the  distribution  and  arrangement 
of  the  apartments  are  subject  to  the  greatest  doubt.  The 
numerous  antiquarian  questions  which  suggest  themselves  here 
cannot  be  discussed  in  this  place. 

We  come  now  to  the  Parthenon,  the  noblest  monument  in 
Athens  and  in  the  world.  The  contrast  between  this  temple 
And  the  Erechtheium  is  strikingly  beautiful.  We  have  already 
incidentally  alluded  to  the  principal  points  in  its  history,  and 
the  various  fortunes  in  which  it  has  shared.     It  was  built  of 


142  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE 

Pentelic  marble,  under  the  superintendence  of  Pheidias,  by 
Ictinus  and  Callicrates.  It  stands  on  a  base  approached  by 
three  steps,  each  1  foot  9  inches  high,  and  about  2  feet  4 
inches  wide.  Its  breadth,  on  the  upper  step,  is  101.33  feet;  its 
length,  228  feet;  the  height  to  the  top  of  the  pediment  from  the 
upper  step  of  the  stylobate  is  59  feet,  and  with  the  stylobate, 
64  feet.  The  temple  is  Doric,  octostyle,  or  with  eight  columns 
at  each  end,  and  peripteral,  or  colonnaded  all  round,  there 
being  fifteen  columns  on  each  side,  not  counting  those  at  the 
corners,  —  46  in  all.  The  length  of  the  sekos,  or  body  of  the 
temple,  is  193  feet,  and  its  breadth  71  feet,  omitting  fractions. 
The  space  between  the  peristyle  and  the  wall  is  nine  feet 
at  the  sides,  and  eleven  feet  at  the  fronts.  The  interior  is 
divided  by  a  transverse  wall  into  two  unequal  portions  ;  the 
eastern  being  the  naos  proper,  an  apartment  for  the  statue  of 
the  goddess,  98  feet  in  length  ;  the  western,  the  opisthodomos, 
having  been  commonly  used  as  the  treasury  of  the  city,  43  feet 
long.  Within  the  peristyle,  at  each  end,  were  eight  columns, 
33  feet  high,  on  a  stylobate  of  two  steps.  Within  the  naos 
was  a  range  of  ten  Doric  columns  on  each  side,  and  three  at 
the  west  end,  forming  three  sides  of  a  quadrangle ;  above  them, 
an  architrave  supported  an  upper  range  of  columns,  which 
Wheeler,  at  the  time  of  whose  visit  they  were  still  standing, 
calls  a  kind  of  gallery.  Fourteen  feet  distant  from  the  western 
columns  is  the  pavement  of  Peiraic  stone,  on  which  the  great 
chryselephantine  statue  of  Athene  was  placed.  Besides  the  in- 
ternal decorations,  the  outside  of  the  temple  was  ornamented 
with  three  classes  of  sculptures.  1.  The  sculptures  of  the 
pediments  were  independent  statues  resting  upon  the  deep  cor- 
nice. The  subject  of  those  on  the  eastern  pediment  was  the 
birth  of  Athene  ;  of  those  on  the  western,  the  contest  between 
Poseidon  and  Athene,  for  the  possession  of  Attica.  2.  The 
groups  on  the  metopes,  ninety-two  in  number,  represented  com- 
bats of  Hercules  and  Theseus,  of  the  Centaurs  and  Amazons, 
and  perhaps  some  figures  of  the  Persian  war.  These  groups 
were  executed  in  high  relief.     3.  The  frieze  round  the  uppei 


ATHENS   IN   THE   TIMES   OF   PERICLES.  143 

border  of  the  cella  of  the  Parthenon  contained  a  representation 
of  the  Panathenaic  procession  in  low  relief.  All  these  '  sculp- 
tures were  in  the  highest  style  of  the  art,  executed  either  by 
Pheidias  himself,  or  under  his  immediate  direction.  Most  of 
them  were  in  place  when  Wheeler  visited  Athens,  in  1676  ; 
and  drawings  of  the  figures  on  the  pediments  were  made,  in 
1674,  by  Carrey,  a  French  architect  in  the  suite  of  the  Mar- 
quis de  Nointel,  Minister  of  France  at  the  Porte.  The  in- 
terior of  the  temple  was  thrown  down,  in  1687,  by  the  ex- 
plosion of  a  bomb  in  the  Turkish  powder-magazine.  The 
front  columns  of  the  peristyle  escaped,  but  eight  of  the  col- 
umns on  the  north  side,  and  six  of  those  on  the  south,  were 
overthrown.  Morosini,  in  endeavoring  to  remove  some  of  the 
figures  on  the  pediments,  broke  them,  and  otherwise  did  great 
mischief.  At  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  Lord 
Elgin  dismantled  a  considerable  part  of  the  Parthenon  of  the 
remaining  sculptures,  which  form  the  most  precious  treasures 
of  the  British  Museum  at  the  present  moment.  A  question 
has  been  much  discussed,  as  to  whether  any  portion  of  the  ex- 
terior of  the  temple  was  decorated  with  painting.  It  is  hardly 
possible  to  doubt  the  fact,  after  a  personal  examination.  Many 
of  the  mouldings  have  traces  of  beautifully  drawn  patterns. 
Under  the  cornices,  there  are  delicate  tints  of  blue  and  red,  and 
in  the  triglyphs,  of  blue.  The  architraves  and  broader  surfaces 
were  tinged  with  ochre.  All  these  figures  were  executed  so 
delicately  and  exquisitely,  that  it  is  impossible  to  accept  the 
theory  sometimes  advanced,  of  their  being  the  work  of  subse- 
quent barbarous  ages.  There  are  other  traces  of  colors  on  the 
inner  surface  of  the  portion  of  the  walls  still  standing,  which  ev- 
idently belong  to  a  period  after  the  stone-cutters  Eulogius  and 
Apollos  had  converted  the  Parthenon  into  a  church.  Among 
the  inscriptions  there  is  one,  found  in  1836,  containing  a  record 
of  money  paid  for  polychromatic  decorations.  The  Parthenon 
was  built  in  the  best  period  of  architecture,  and  under  the  in- 
spiration of  the  highest  genius  in  art ;  and  the  best  results  of 
science  were  united  in  producing  its  exquisite  perfection.     The 


t44  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

pathetic  beauty  of  its  decay  is  indescribable.  The  impression 
it  makes  is  that  of  a  solemn  and  wondrous  harmony.  Its  aspect 
is  simple  ;  but  scientific  investigation  has  not  yet  exhausted  its 
beauties  and  refinements.  The  combination  of  the  most  delicate 
architectural  proportions  with  the  sculptural  compositions,  of 
which  enough  of  each  class  remains,  after  all  the  ruin  wrought 
by  time,  and  war,  and  barbarism,  to  give  us  a  vivid  idea  of 
their  admirable  execution,  —  and  the  variety  of  these  composi- 
tions, differing  in  character  and  size  according  to  their  position 
and  subjects,  but  all  relating  to  a  central  idea  which  harmonizes 
them,  —  must  have  been  magnificent  beyond  description,  when 
the  temple  first  stood  in  its  fresh  glory  under  the  sky  of  At- 
tica. But  delicacies  of  construction  have  not  ceased  to  be  dis- 
covered in  this  wonderful  building.  In  1837,  Pennethorne, 
an  English  traveller,  noticed  the  inclination  of  the  columns. 
Hofer,  Schaubart,  and  others,  have  examined  the  subject,  and 
published  their  observations  upon  the  inclination  of  the  col- 
umns and  the  curved  lines  of  the  stylobate  and  architraves. 
Mr.  Penrose,  an  English  scholar  and  architect,  visited  Athens 
in  1845,  and  was  afterward  sent  by  the  Society  of  Dilettanti  to 
complete  the  investigations  he  had  already  commenced.  The 
results  were  published  in  a  spendid  folio,  in  1851.  They  may 
be  briefly  summed  up  thus.  The  lines  which  in  ordinary  ar- 
chitecture are  straight,  in  the  Doric  temples  at  Athens  are 
delicate  curves.  The  edges  of  the  steps  and  the  lines  of  the 
entablatures  are  convex  curves,  lying  in  vertical  planes,  and 
nearly  parallel,  and  the  curves  are  conic  sections,  the  middle 
of  the  stylobate  rising  several  inches  above  the  extremities. 
The  external  lines  of  the  columns  are  curved  also,  forming 
a  hyperbolic  entasis.  The  axes  of  the  columns  incline  inward, 
so  that  opposite  pairs,  if  produced  sufficie  ltly  far,  would  meet. 
The  spaces  of  the  inter-columniations,  and  the  size  of  the 
capitals,  vary  slightly,  according  to  their  position.  From  the 
usual  points  of  view,  these  variations  and  curves  are  not  per- 
ceptible, but  they  produce  by  their  combination  the  effect  of 
perfect  harmony  and  regularity,  and  the  absence  of  these  re> 


ATHENS  IN   THE   TIMES   OF   PERICLES.  14l» 

finements  is  the  cause  of  the  universal  failure  of  buildings  con- 
structed in  modern  times  according  to  what  have  been  sup- 
posed to  be  the  principles  of  Hellenic  architecture.  This 
subject  is  treated  by  Mr.  Penrose  in  detail,  with  remarkable 
precision ;  also  by  M.  Beule",  in  a  learned  work  entitled 
UAcropole  d'Athenes,  Paris,  1853-1855. 

I  have  endeavored,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  to  reproduce 
for  you  Athens  as  she  was  in  the  days  of  her  ancient  glory. 
If  I  have  but  partially  succeeded,  it  is  not  my  fault,  but  the 
fault  of  Pericles.  I  have  had  considerable  experience  in  con- 
versing with  the  spirits  of  the  departed,  through  those  favored 
individuals  called  mediums.  I  have  even  been  honored  with  a 
written  communication  from  a  distinguished  Athenian  drama- 
tist, in  English  doggerel,  the  genuineness  of  which  some  scep- 
tics had  the  hardihood  to  call  in  question.  However  that 
may  be,  in  one  of  the  spiritual  circles  I  invoked  the  ghost  of 
Pericles,  and  he  was  good  enough  to  take  possession  of  the 
organism  of  the  medium.  I  put  to  him  a  series  of  questions 
about  Athens  in  his  time ;  but  he  had  not  only  lost  the  knowl- 
edge of  all  that  he  had  ever  done  during  the  forty  years  of  his 
administration,  but  had  even  forgotten  his  mother  tongue.  I 
could  only  exclaim  with  Hamlet,  "  Alas  !  poor  ghost! "  —  and 
turn  again  to  my  books. 


TOL.   II.  10 


« 


LECTURE    IX. 

THE   PELOPONNESIAN    WAR.  —  THE    DEMOS.  —  ANTIFHON.  — 
ANDOCIDES. 

Pericles  died  in  the  midst  of  public  calamities  and  private 
bereavements.  He  had  striven  in  vain  to  establish  a  union 
among  the  Greeks,  which  would  have  secured  them  from  for- 
eign invasion  and  domestic  war.  Dorian  obstinacy  and  narrow- 
mindedness  were  too  much  for  his  wise  policy  and  far-reach- 
ing views.  Spartan  education  and  the  institutions  of  Lycurgus 
were  unsuited  to  participate  in  his  enlightened  scheme,  and  the 
consequences  were  inevitable.  War  advanced  from  the  Pelo- 
ponnesus, and  arrested  the  public  works  of  the  great  statesman 
and  the  prosperity  of  the  Athenian  empire.  He  had  foreseen 
it ;  he  was  prepared  to  meet  it ;  he  laid  his  plans  before  the 
people,  and  they  adopted  them.  He  let  the  Spartans  ravage 
the  plain  of  Athens  unopposed ;  he  called  in  the  people  to  the 
city,  every  foot  of  which  was  thronged ;  and  when  the  Spartan 
nvader  spared  his  own  estate,  he  sent  out  and  burned  his  villa 
to  the  ground,  to  thwart  the  treacherous  purpose  of  the  enemy, 
who  hoped  to  excite  the  suspicions  of  the  citizens  against  him. 
He  sent  a  fleet  to  ravage  the  coast  of  Peloponnesus,  to  show 
the  invaders  that  the  Athenian  power  was  in  their  wooden 
walls,  and  that  the  laying  waste  of  the  plain,  the  cutting  down 
of  the  trees,  the  destruction  of  the  harvest,  without  a  battle,  did 
po  harm  that  might  not  be  easily  repaired ;  while  the  seas  were 
swept  by  Athenian  ships,  and  the  whole  Peloponnesus  lay  un- 
defended and  helpless.  It  was  a  losing  game  for  the  Spartans, 
and  Pericles  was  resolved  to  play  it  out.  He  resisted  the 
popular  discontent,  and  refused  to  call  a  meeting,  well  knowing 
that  the  citizens  would  vote  to  hurry  forth  tumultuously  and 


THE   PELOPONNESIAN  WAR.  147 

attack  the  invaders ;  for  the  Athenians  were  fond  of  country 
life,  and  were  indignant  to  see  from  the  walls  their  pleasant 
fields  trampled  by  the  rude  soldiery  and  their  uouses  reduced 
to  smoking  ruins.  When  the  clamor  became  too  great,  Peri- 
cles addressed  a  public  meeting,  and  calmly  and  ably  defended 
his  policy.  But  one  thing  he  could  not  avert, — the  pestilence. 
That  dreadful  visitor  stalked  through  the  streets,  and  the  dead 
and  dying  were  everywhere.  The  house  of  Pericles  was  deso- 
late, and  all  his  plans  were  overthrown.  There  was  no  great 
man  to  take  his  place.  There  were  able  men  in  Athens  ; 
but  there  was  none  who,  by  pre-eminent  ability  and  weight 
of  character,  could  keep  the  ship  with  strong  hand  on  the 
course  that  Pericles  had  laid  down.  Party  passions  broke 
fiercely  out ;  party  leaders,  —  known  as  demagogues,  —  each 
with  selfish  aims,  came  into  light  when  there  was  no  Peri- 
cles to  hold  them  in  check.  The  popular  assembly  was  the 
scene  of  their  struggles  ;  the  courts  were  agitated  by  their 
pernicious  influence.  "  Those  who  came  after  Pericles,"  says 
Thucydides,  "  being  more  on  an  equality  with  one  another, 
and  each  eager  to  stand  foremost,  turned  to  the  gratification 
of  the  people,  and  sacrificed  to  this  the  public  interest."  A 
lower  and  lower  tone  of  public  feeling  among  the  best  of  the 
popular  leaders  became  prevalent,  and  a  lower  style  of  address 
was  adopted.  Of  demagogism,  in  the  bad  sense  of  the  word, 
little  had  been  seen  before  ;  but  now  a  succession  of  low-bred, 
vulgar,  and  violent  men  had  the  opportunity  of  making  them- 
selves felt.  The  war  became  more  and  more  savage.  It 
was  marked  by  the  twofold  horrors  of  civil  strife  and  hatred 
of  race  ;  —  civil  strife,  because,  first,  it  was  a  war  between  dif- 
ferent branches  of  the  Hellenic  stock ;  and  secondly,  because  it 
gave  rise  to  seditions  and  dissensions  in  the  cities  themselves 
which  were  gradually  drawn  into  it;  —  hatred  of  race,  because 
the  contrasted  institutions  of  the  Spartans  and  Athenians  made 
them  almost  two  different  races. 

Thucydides  says  that  he  wrote  his  history,  not  for  the  pur- 
pose of  present  entertainment,  but  that  it  might  be  an  eternal 


148  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   OKATORS   OF   GREECE. 

acquisition.  It  was  no  boast  on  the  part  of  that  great  writei, 
The  profound  exposition  of  the  causes  and  consequences  of 
that  mortal  strife,  the  clearness  of  the  narrative,  and  the  pow- 
erful historical  painting,  make  his  work  the  still  unsurpassed 
production  of  the  historic  Muse.  History  is  philosophy  teaching 
by  example.  The  example  of  the  Peloponnesian  war  is  one 
of  terrible  significance  ;  and  the  philosophy  of  it  is  conveyed  in 
a  passage,  a  part  of  which  I  shall  quote  because  it  illustrates 
the  inevitable  effects  of  the  war  of  angry  and  jealous  common 
wealths,  clashing  together,  with  no  common  government  to 
hold  them  in  check.  It  was  only  a  few  years  after  the  strug- 
gle commenced,  when  the  dreadful  condition  of  things  here 
described  presented  itself  to  the  eye  of  the  great  historian,  who 
was  himself  clothed  with  a  military  command  in  the  early 
stages  of  the  conflict. 

"  Afterwards,"  says  the  grave  and  profound  writer,  having 
first  detailed  the  bloody  feuds  at  Corcyra,  "the  whole  Hellenic 
world  was  thrown  into  commotion.  The  leaders  of  the  popular 
party  called  in  the  Athenians,  those  of  the  oligarchical  party, 
the  Lacedsemonians,  feuds  existing  everywhere,  ....  each 
party  forming  alliances  for  the  damage  of  its  antagonists  and 
its  own  security.  Pretexts  for  summoning  foreign  aid  were 
easily  furnished  to  those  who  aimed  to  effect  political  changes. 
Many  heavy  calamities  befell  the  states  through  these  feuds, 
which  happen,  and  always  will  happen,  so  long  as  the  nature 
of  man  remains  the  same;  greater  or  milder,  and  varying  in 
their  aspects,  as  variations  of  circumstances  in  each  case  arise. 
For  in  peace  and  prosperity  both  communities  and  individuals 
are  better  disposed,  because  they  are  not  driven  to  intolerable 
necessities.  But  war,  withdrawing  the  supplies  of  daily  life, 
is  a  hard  teacher,  and  subdues  the  passions  of  the  many  to 
tks  quality  of  present  circumstances.      Discord  then  reigned 

throughout  the  states And  they  changed  the  customary 

meaning  of  words  applied  to  things,  according  to  the  caprice 
of  the  moment ;  for  reckless  audacity  was  considered  manl^ 
fidelity   to    party ;    prudent    delay,    fair-seeming    cowardice  , 


THE   PELOPONNESIAN  WAR.  149 

moderation,  the  screen  for  feebleness.  Headlong  frenzy  was  set 
down  to  the  account  of  manhood.  The  unrelenting  man  was 
trusted  ;  whoever  argued  against  him  was  suspected.  He  who 
plotted,  if  successful,  was  thought  sagacious ;  he  who  counter- 
plotted, still  more  so.  He  who  used  forethought  that  he  might 
not  need  these  resorts  was  charged  with  ruining  his  party 
and  fearing  its  opponents.  In  a  word,  he  was  applauded  who 
got  the  start  of  another,  intending  to  do  an  injury,  or  who 
tempted  one  to  do  a  wrong  when  he  had  no  thought  of  do- 
ing it  himself.  And  what  was  worse,  kindred  became  less 
regarded  than  party,  because  party  was  readier  for  any  deed 
of  unscrupulous  daring.  For  such  combinations  aim  not  at 
the  benefit  of  the  established  institutions,  but  in  their  grasping 
spirit  run  counter  to  the  lawful  authorities.  Their  pledges  to 
one  another  were  sanctioned,  not  by  the  Divine  law,  but  by 
their  having  together  violated  law.  The  cause  of  this  state 
of  things  was  the  lust  of  power  for  purposes  of  rapacity  ana 
ambition,  and  the  hot  temper  of  those  who  were  engaged  in  the 
conflict.  Thus  neither  party  held  to  sacred  honor ;  but  those 
were  more  highly  spoken  of  who,  under  cover  of  plausible  pre- 
tences, succeeded  in  effecting  some  purpose  of  hatred.  The 
citizens  who  stood  between  the  extremes,  and  belonged  to 
neither,  both  parties  endeavored  to  destroy.  So  every  species 
of  wickedness  became  established  by  these  feuds  all  over  the 
Hellenic  world.  Simplicity  of  character,  wherein  nobleness  of 
nature  most  largely  shares,  being  scoffed  at,  disappeared ;  and 
mutual  opposition  of  feeling,  with  universal  distrust,  prevailed. 
For  there  were  neither  binding  words  nor  solemn  oaths  to 
compose  the  strife.  And  for  the  most  part,  those  who  were 
meanest  in  understanding  were^the  most  successful ;  for,  fear- 
ing their  own  deficiency  and  the  ability  of  their  adversaries, 
apprehensive  lest  they  should  be  worsted  in  argument  and  elo- 
quence, and  outwitted  by  the  intellectual  superiority  on  the 
other  side,  they  went  audaciously  on  to  deeds  of  violence  ; 
but  their  opponents,  contemptuous  in  the  presumption  of  fore- 
knowledge, and   not  feeling  the   need  of  securing  by  action 


150  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATOBS   OF  GREECE. 

what  could  be  compassed  by  genius,  the  more  easily  perished 
undefended." 

This  state  of  things,  this  profound  demoralization,  was 
brought  about  by  the  discords  in  the  several  states  consequent 
on  the  war.  The  dissensions  in  Corcyra  began  the  dreadful 
strife ;  but  it  spread  with  the  rapidity  and  the  fatal  effects  of 
a  pestilence.  It  was  not  only  war  between  the  Dorian  and 
the  Ionian,  war  between  Sparta  and  Athens ;  it  was  a  more 
pernicious  war  in  the  very  vitals  of  every  city  that  was  drawn 
into  the  hurrying,  headlong  stream,  —  war  which  struck  at  the 
roots  of  patriotism  and  of  civilization  itself.  And  herein  is  to 
be  found  the  ominous  lesson,  the  warning  voice,  which  will 
prove  a  prophet's  voice  so  long  as  the  nature  of  man  remains 
the  same.  The  chief  events  in  the  conflict  were  the  brief 
peace  of  Nicias,  eleven  years  after  its  commencement,  421 
B.  C. ;  the  Sicilian  expedition  in  415  B.  C,  and  its  disastrous 
termination  in  413  B.  C. ;  the  intrigues  of  Alcibiades ;  the 
oligarchical  conspiracy  at  Athens,  by  which  the  Constitution 
was  overthrown,  and  the  government  of  the  Four  Hundred 
established  with  irresponsible  power,  in  411  B.  C. ;  the  over- 
throw of  this  oligarchy  four  months  afterwards,  and  the  res- 
toration of  the  old  Constitution,  with  the  limitation  of  the 
franchise  to  five  thousand ;  the  death  of  Archeptolemus  and  of 
Antiphon  the  orator,  leaders  of  the  extreme  wing  of  the  oligar- 
chical party ;  the  appointment  of  Lysander  as  commander  of 
the  Lacedaemonian  fleet;  the  battle  of  Arginusae,  in  406  B.  C, 
and  the  deplorable  event  of  the  execution  of  the  generals, 
one  of  whom  was  Pericles,  the  son  of  the  great  statesman : 
and  finally,  the  battle  of  ^Egospotami,  in  405  B.  C,  in  which 
the  Athenians  were  utterly  defeated,  and  four  thousand  pris- 
oners, with  the  generals,  put  to  death,  by  order  of  Lysander. 
This  was  the  finishing  blow.  Athens  was  compelled  to  surren- 
der at  discretion,  and  to  submit  herself  to  the  odious  govern- 
ment of  the  Thirty  Tyrants,  whose  short  reign  of  six  or  seven 
months  reads  in  history  like  one  of  the  worst .  chapters  of  the 
French  Revolution.     The  lists  of  the  proscribed  ;  the  denun 


THE  PELOPONNESIAN  WAR.  151 

ciation  of  those  who  attempted  to  check  the  shedding  of  blood, 
and  to  inspire  moderate  counsels ;  the  impeachment  and  lead- 
ing away  to  death  of  accused  persons,  with  only  a  mockery  of 
the  forms  of  justice,  and  sometimes  not  even  that,  —  all  these 
were  only  a  prophecy  of  the  reign  of  terror. 

But  the  day  of  retribution  swiftly  came.  Thrajiybulus,  an 
exile,  with  a  few  supporters,  seized  the  pass  of  Phyle,  where 
the  old  Hellenic  fortress  still  stands  in  a  most  picturesque 
position,  looking  down  on  the  plain  of  Athens  and  the  distant. 
Acropolis.  Here  assembled  a  body  of  brave  m>  n,  resolved  to 
rescue  their  unhappy  country  from  the  odious  tyranny  undei 
which  it  was  groaning.  They  were  attacked  in  their  strong 
hold  by  the  troops  of  the  Thirty,  and  repelled  them.  They 
marched  down  to  the  Peirseus,  and  took  possession  of  the  hill 
of  Munychia.  Again  the  oligarchy  sent  a  force,  with  one  of 
their  own  number,  Critias,  in  command,  to  dislodge  them. 
Again  they  were  defeated,  and  Critias  was  slain.  The  oligar- 
chy of  the  Thirty  was  changed  to  a  government  of  Ten,  who 
called  on  Sparta  for  aid ;  but  the  jealousies  of  the  Spartans 
against  their  great  commander,  Lysander,  paralyzed  the  opera- 
tions at  Athens.  Thrasybulus  and  the  exiles  entered  the  city ; 
a  general  amnesty  was  passed ;  the  oligarchy  was  overthrown, 
the  people  restored,  and  the  old  Constitution,  with  all  its  forms, 
securities,  and  immunities,  re-established. 

Notwithstanding  the  exhaustion  of  this  almost  continuous 
war  for  eight  and  twenty  years,  complicated  with  internal  dis- 
sensions, with  all  their  demoralizing  consequences,  the  free 
principles  of  the  government  of  Athens,  the  genius  of  the 
race,  and  the  elasticity  of  mind  produced  by  the  habit  of  par- 
liamentary debate,  by  the  open  administration  of  justice,  and 
by  the  general  education  of  the  people,  were  so  conservative  in 
their  effects,  that,  after  each  internal  revolution,  the  city  rallied 
and  returned  to  her  old  institutions.  Pausanias,  the  Greek 
traveller  of  the  second  century,  says,  bearing  witness  to  the 
general  wisdom  of  the  Athenian  government :  "  We  know  of 
no  other  people  who   have   elevated   democracy.      By  it  the 


152  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

Athenians  advanced  to  great  prosperity  ;  for  they  surpassed 
the  other  Hellenic  races  in  native  power  of  understanding, 
and  were  most  obedient  to  the  established  laws." 

But  the  period  of  the  Peloponnesian  war  was  intensely  try- 
ing, both  to  the  character  and  to  the  permanence  of  the  institu- 
tions of  the  states  generally, —  of  those  of  Athens,  of  course,  in 
a  peculiar  degree ;  but  Athens,  though  overthrown  for  the  mo- 
ment, rose  again,  and  in  the  following  age  bore  a  brilliant  part 
in  the  great  struggle  with  Philip  and  Alexander.  Even  in  the 
midst  of  the  war,  literature,  to  which  the  genius  of  Pericles  had 
given  so  strong  an  impulse,  continued  to  be  cultivated.  JE,s- 
chylus  died  twenty-four  years  before  the  war  broke  out ;  but 
Sophocles  was  at  the  height  of  his  splendid  renown ;  Euripides, 
a  little  younger,  shared  with  him  the  mastery  of  the  tragic 
stage ;  Aristophanes  began  his  brilliant  dramatic  career  four 
years  after  the  war  commenced;  and  other  men,  of  genius 
only  inferior  to  theirs,  in  tragedy  and  comedy,  appeared  annu- 
ally in  competition  for  the  honors  of  the  dramatic  victory  and 
an  inscription  on  a  monument  in  the  Street  of  the  Tripods. 
Euripides  died  two  years,  and  Sophocles  one,  before  the  sur- 
render of  Athens  ;  but  Aristophanes  survived  it,  and  con- 
tinued his  dramatic  labors  under  the  restored  democracy.  The 
most  brilliant  period  of  dramatic  literature  was  therefore  just 
in  the  midst  of  the  Peloponnesian  war. 

But  there  is  also  another  side  to  the  picture.  I  have  al- 
ready alluded  to  the  rise  of  the  demagogues,  after  the  death 
of  Pericles.  With  all  its  excellent  features,  the  Athenian 
Constitution  opened  to  this  pernicious  class  of  men  an  unusu- 
ally free  career,  especially  at  times  when  there  were  no  states- 
men of  such  undeniable  superiority  that  these  pestilent  fellows, 
these  disturbers  of  the  state,  could  be  kept  in  their  proper 
place  by  wholesome  fears,  like  dogs  scourged  into  their  kennels 
by  their  roasters.  At  Athens  a  succession  of  such  men,  whose 
names  have  been  immortalized  by  history  and  the  comic  Muse, 
made  their  appearance.  There  was  Eucrates,  a  seller  of  flax ; 
there  was  Lysicles,  a  sheep-dealer ;  and,  most  renowned  of  all, 


THE   PELOPONNESIAN  WAR.  153 

there  was  Cleon,  the  leather-dresser.  It  was  not  that  these 
men  practised  handicraft  trades ;  but  it  was  their  ignorance, 
coarseness,  and  brutality  that  made  them  nuisances  to  the 
commonwealth.  A  man  may  be  a  leather-dresser,  —  as  we  all 
know  by  a  beautiful  example,  —  and  yet  be  endowed  with  re- 
fined tastes,  liberal  culture,  and  the  most  delicate  virtues.  But 
Cleon  was  a  cruel  and  vindictive  man,  a  loud-voiced  brawler 
and  braggart,  impudent  and  fearless.  Even  before  the  death 
of  Pericles  his  influence  began  to  be  felt.  The  people  were 
attracted  by  his  ready  speech,  his  rude  wit,  his  adroit  reason- 
ing, and,  most  of  all,  by  his  power  of  vituperation.  It  was  a 
new  sensation  to  them  to  hear  the  characters  of  the  ablest  and 
best  men  traduced  by  this  open-mouthed  slanderer ;  and  they 
applauded  him  for  the"  entertainment.  Beginning  with  ap- 
plause, they  ended  with  bringing  themselves  under  his  power. 
When  a  question  was  before  them  for  decision,  Cleon  always 
clamored  for  blood,  if  blood  was  to  be  had.  When  the  Myti- 
lenaeans,  after  their  revolt,  B.  C.  427,  had  been  subdued,  in 
the  debate  on  what  disposition  was  to  be  made  of  them,  he 
proposed  to  put  all  the  men  to  death  and  to  sell  the  women 
and  children  into  slavery,  —  the  innocent  as  well  as  the  guilty. 
He  carried  the  vote ;  and  under  the  influence  of  this  base  dem- 
agogue, the  Athenians  came  near  committing  a  crime  which 
would  have  been  a  blot  on  their  history  forever.  A  trireme 
was  despatched  with  the  bloody  order  to  Paches,  the  com- 
mander of  the  fleet.  But  with  the  silence  of  night  remorse 
entered  the  hearts  of  the  people.  Early  in  the  morning  an- 
other assembly  was  called,  and  the  vote  reversed.  A  second 
trireme  was  sent,  and  the  rowers  were  promised  large  rewards 
if  they  arrived  in  season.  By  the  most  strenuous  exertions, 
they  reached  the  harbor  of  Mytilene  just  as  Paches  was  pre- 
paring reluctantly  to  carry  the  previous  orders  into  effect,  and 
the  bloody  purpose  of  Cleon  was  thwarted. 

This  ought  to  have  overthrown  Cleon's  influence  forever. 
Thucydides  describes  him  as  at  this  time  the  most  trusted  by 
the  people  of  all  the  public  men.    A  whimsical  turn  of  fortune, 


154  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

a  year  or  two  later,  gave  this  coward  the  reputation  of  a  gal- 
lant warrior  and  a  skilful  general,  as  fortune  sometimes  seems 
to  delight  in  favoring  the  most  undeserving.  During  the  siege 
of  Sphacteria,  which  had  been  so  long  protracted  that  the  peo- 
ple began  to  show  ominous  signs  of  dissatisfaction  with  their 
generals,  Cleon  was  boastful  and  violent  as  usual  in  the  as- 
sembly. "  If  I  were  general,  I  would  have  the  Spartans  here 
us  prisoners  in  twenty  days."  Nicias,  one  of  the  generals,  was 
present ;  and  when  some  one  said  to  the  demagogue,  "  Why 
do  you  not  go  ?  "  he  offered  to  resign  his  office.  It  was 
the  weakness  of  the  Athenian  people,  that  they  could  never 
resist  a  good  joke.  The  idea  of  making  a  general  out  of  the 
bragging  and  boisterous  leather-dresser  set  the  assembly  into 
a  roar.  Cleon  tried  in  vain  to  retract.  He  was  a  mere  bully, 
and  did  not  relish  going  to  the  scene  of  danger.  He  could  talk 
and  bluster  on  the  bema ;  he  could  put  the  people  up  to  any 
deed  of  blood ;  but  as  to  risking  his  own  precious  person  with- 
in reach  of  the  Spartan  sword  and  spear,  it  had  never  entered 
his  thoughts,  and  he  was  most  horribly  frightened  at  the  un- 
pleasant prospect  opened  before  him.  The  more  blank  he 
looked,  the  more  determined  the  people  became  to  thrust  the 
unwelcome  honor  upon  him.  Go  he  must.  Meantime  De- 
mosthenes, the  general  on  the  spot,  had  been  vigorously  push- 
ing the  siege ;  and  when  the  new  general  arrived,  everything 
was  done,  except  actually  taking  the  place.  The  assault  was 
at  once  made  ;  the  place  was  carried  ;  the  flower  of  the  Spar- 
tans were  taken  prisoners.  Cleon  immediately  returned  to 
Athens,  and  within  twenty  days,  as  he  had  boasted,  he  ex- 
hibited his  captives  to  the  gaping  populace.  His  reputation  as 
an  irresistible  warrior  was  now  established  ;  and  three  years 
later,  he  was  thought  the  only  man  in  all  Athens  competent  to 
cope  with  Brasidas,  the  ablest  and  best  of  the  Spartan  generals, 
who  was  then  manoeuvring  in  the  north.  He  was  despatched; 
and  the  moment  he  came  into  the  presence  of  his  really  distin- 
guished antagonist,  his  utter  unfitness  for  the  command  mani 
fested  itself.     He  was  easily  defeated  and  slain. 


THE   DEMOS.  156 

I  have  recapitulated  these  facts,  partly  to  exhibit  one  aspect 
of  Athenian  demagogism,  and  partly  to  introduce  the  Attic 
Demos,  and  to  illustrate  the  working  of  the  free  Constitution 
under  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  Peloponnesian  war. 
It  is  no  uncommon  thing,  in  a  free  country,  for  the  spirit  of 
wit  and  fun  to  embody  the  leading  characteristics  of  the  natidn 
in  the  person  of  an  individual,  with  the  ludicrous  features 
greatly  exaggerated  for  comic  effect.  Thus,  the  American  na- 
tion figures  under  the  name  of  Brother  Jonathan,  in  the  form 
of  a  lantern-jawed  person,  with  long,  straight  hair,  lank  figure, 
and  trousers  half-way  up  to  his  knees.  The  British  nation  is 
personified  as  John  Bull,  a  person  quite  the  opposite  of  Brother 
Jonathan  in  all  these  particulars.  But  a  personification  much 
more  striking  in  its  verisimilitude  is  Demos,  the  representa- 
tive of  the  people  of  Athens.  In  the  histories  and  orations 
of  Athenian  writers,  this  conception  was  carried  so  far,  that, 
in  speaking  of  the  overthrow  of  the  popular  government,  a 
common  phrase  was,  "  Demos  was  overthrown  " ;  in  speaking 
of  its  restoration,  "Demos  was  restored."  Demos,  —  the  peo- 
ple, —  holding  the  assembly,  and  through  that  controlling 
nearly  all  the  affairs  of  peace  and  war,  appointing  the  numer- 
ous courts  by  detailing  large  bodies  from  his  own  number, 
and  so  administering  justice,  extending  his  conquests  in  every 
direction,  and  constituting  himself  the  head  of  a  mighty  em- 
pire, —  Demos  made  himself  felt  in  so  many  ways  in  his 
collective  capacity,  that  the  personification  was  inevitable. 
Parrhasius,  the  painter,  made  a  picture  of  this  character, 
which,  according  to  Pliny,  embodied  the  expressions  of  fickle- 
ness, anger,  injustice,  inconstancy,  placability,  clemency,  pity, 
boastfulness,  haughtiness,  humility,  ferocity,  fugacity,  and  sev- 
eral others ;  but  how  he  managed  in  one  picture  to  convey  so 
much,  Pliny  does  not  inform  us.  This  picture  was  painted 
about  the  time  of  which  we  are  now  speaking,  soon  after  the 
close  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  or  at  all  events  within  tin* 
period  that  includes  the  life  of  Aristophanes. 

The  plays  of  this  great  writer  are  of  special  value,  as  illui- 


156  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

trations  of  the  political  side  of  Athenian  life,  if  we  always 
bear  in  mind,  as  I  have  intimated  before  in  speaking  of  his 
representation  of  the  dicastie  passion,  that  he  was  a  brilliant 
caricaturist,  no  more  historical,  but  infinitely  more  witty,  than 
Punch.  I  repeat  the  remark  here,  because  I  am  going  to 
give  a  brief  sketch  of  a  play  of  his,  which  handles  Demos, 
and  the  demagogues,  whether  high  or  low.  It  is  called  the 
"  Hippeis,"  or  "  Knights,"  and  was  brought  out  in  424  B.  C, 
eight  years  after  the  commencement  of  the  war.  The  chief 
personages  of  the  drama  are  Demos,  —  a  crusty  old  fellow  liv- 
ing in  the  Pnyx,  and  so  called  Demos  Pycnites,  as  if  the  Pnyx 
were  a  borough  to  which  the  man  belonged, — irritable,  jealous, 
easily  cajoled,  ready  to  believe  the  most  enormous  lies,  and 
constantly  having  his  pockets  picked ;  Nicias  and  Demos- 
thenes, two  of  the  generals,  one  of  whom  caused  Cleon  to 
be  sent  in  command  to  Sphacteria,  and  the  other  helped  him 
take  it,  —  here  introduced  in  the  character  of  servants  or  slaves 
to  Demos,  and  shockingly  ill-treated  by  the  old  gentleman  ; 
and  Cleon,  the  leather-dresser,  another  slave  lately  bought 
from  Paphlagonia,  who,  by  his  lying,  coarseness,  impudence, 
and  boundless  vulgarity,  has  secured  the  good  graces  of  his 
master,  and  become  the  tyrant  and  terror  of  all  his  fellow- 
slaves.  There  is  a  chorus  of  knights,  who  sympathize  with  the 
condition  of  Nicias  and  Demosthenes,  —  the  upper  servants, 
representing  the  more  aristocratic  party  in  the  state.  Nicias, 
Demosthenes,  and  the  knights,  having  been  unsuccessful  in 
maintaining  their  position  by  adhering  to  the  men  of  their  own 
rank  in  society,  resolve  to  employ  the  tactics  of  their  oppo- 
nents, and  to  address  themselves  to  the  lowest  passions,  by 
pampering  the  vanity,  flattering  the  ignorance,  and  adopting 
the  prejudices  of  Demos,  —  in  short,  by  dealing  in  slander  and 
slang,  until  they  have  outslandered  and  outslanged  the  natural 
masters  of  these  vulgar  arts.  Unable  to  manage  Demos,  and  to 
counteract  the  designs  of  the  leather-dresser,  they  form  a  con- 
spiracy, and  select  from  the  market  a  coarser,  more  ignorant, 
more  vulgar  fellow  than  Cleon,  —  Agoracritus,  the  Sausage 


THE   DEMOS.  157 

Seller,  —  of  whom  Mr.  Frere  remarks:  "His  breeding  and 
education  are  described  as  having  been  similar  to  that  of  the 
younger  Mr.  Weller,  in  that  admirable  and  most  unvulgar  ex- 
hibition of  vulgar  life,  the  Pickwick  Papers."  The  piece  is 
occupied  with  the  struggles  of  these  parties,  in  the  kitchen  of 
Demos,  to  gain  the  favor  of  the  master  of  the  house.  When 
the  Sausage-Seller  is  first  saluted  with  profound  respect  by 
those  who  intend  to  make  political  use  of  him,  he  conducts 
himself  very  much  as  did  Christopher  Sly  when  told  that  he 
»ra:  a  nobleman. 

"  DEM08THENE8. 

We  must  seek  him  out. 

Nicias. 

But  see  there,  where  he  comes ! 
Sent  hither  providentially  as  it  were ! 

Demosthenes. 
0  happy  man  !  celestial  sausage-seller  ! 
Friend,  guardian,  and  protector  of  us  all ! 
Come  forward ;  save  your  friends,  and  save  the  country. 

Sausage-Sellek. 
Do  you  call  me  ? 

Demosthenes. 
Yes,  we  called  to  you,  to  announce 
The  high  and  happy  destiny  that  awaits  you. 

Nicias. 
Come,  now  you  should  set  him  free  from  the  encumbrance 
Of  his  table  and  basket,  and  explain  to  him 
The  tenor  and  the  purport  of  the  oracle, 
While  I  go  back  to  watch  the  Paphlagonian.        [Exit  NiciAi 

Demosthenes  (to  the  Sausage-Seller,  ynively). 
Set  these  poor  wares  aside ;  and  now  —  bow  down 
To  the  ground,  and  adore  the  powers  of  earth  and  heaven. 

Sausaoe-Skllkb. 
Heyday     Why,  what  do  you  mean  ? 

Demosthenes. 

O  happy  man  I 
Unconscious  o  your  glorious  destiny,  — 


158  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

Now  mean  and  unregarded,  but  to-inorrow 
The  mightiest  of  the  mighty,  lord  of  Athens. 

Sausage-Seller. 
Come,  master,  what 's  the  use  of  making  game  ? 
Why  can't  you  let  me  wash  the  guts  and  tripe, 
And  sell  my  sausages  in  peace  and  quiet  ? 

Demosthenes. 

0  simple  mortal,  cast  those  thoughts  aside 

Bid  guts  and  tripe  farewell !  —  Look  there  !  —  Behold 

[Pointing  to  the  audiene; 
The  mighty  assembled  multitude  before  you ! 

Sausage-Seller  (with  a  grumble  of  indifference). 

1  see  them. 

Demosthenes. 
You  shall  be  their  lord  and  master, 
The  sovereign  and  the  ruler  of  them  all, 
Of  the  assemblies  and  tribunals,  fleets  and  armies ; 
You  shall  trample  down  the  senate  under  foot, 
Confound  and  crush  the  generals  and  commanders, 
Arrest,  imprison,  and  confine  in  irons. 

Sausage-Seller. 
What!  I? 

Demosthenes. 
Yes,  you  yourself;  there  's  more  to  come, 
Mount  here ;  and  from  the  trestles  of  your  stall 
Survey  the  subject  islands  circling  round. 

Sausage-Seller. 
1  see  tnem. 

Demosthenes. 
And  all  their  ports  and  merchant-vessels  * 

Sausage-Seller. 
Yes,  all. 

Demosthenes. 
Then  are  n't  you  a  fortunate,  happy  man  ? 
Are  n't  you  content  ?  —  Come  then  for  a  further  prospect 
Turn  your  right  eye  to  Caria,  and  your  left 
To  Chalcedon,  and  view  them  both  together. 

Sausage-Seller. 
Will  it  do  me  good,  d'  you  think,  to  learn  to  squint » 


THE  DEMOS.  1£9 

Demosthenes. 
Not  so  ;  but  everything  you  see  before  you 
Must  be  disposed  of  at  your  high  discretion, 
By  sale  or  otherwise ;  for  the  oracle 
Predestines  you  to  sovereign  power  and  greatness. 

Sausage-Seller. 
Are  there  any  means  of  making  a  great  man 
Of  a  sausage-selling  fellow  such  as  I  ? 

Demosthenes. 
The  very  means  you  have  must  make  you  so,  — 
Low  breeding,  vulgar  birth,  and  impudence,  — 
These,  these  must  make  you  what  you  're  meant  to  ot 

Sausage-Seller. 
I  can't  imagine  that  I  'm  good  for  much. 

Demosthenes. 
Alas  !    But  why  do  you  say  so  ?  —  What  s  the  meanint 
Of  these  migivings  1  —  I  discern  within  you 
A  promise  and  an  inward  consciousness 
Of  greatness.     Tell  me  truly ;  are  you  allien 
To  the  families  of  gentry  ? 

Sausage-Seller. 
No,  not  I ; 
I  'm  come  from  a  common,  ordinary  kindred, 
Of  the  lower  order. 

Demosthenes.  - 
What  a  happiness ! 
What  a  footing  will  it  give  you !    What  a  groundwork 
For  confidence  and  favor  at  your  outset ! 

Sausage-Seller. 
But  bless  you  !  only  consider  my  education  ! 
I  can  but  barely  read  —  in  a  kind  of  a  way. 

Demosthenes. 
That  makes  against  you,  —  the  only  thin;,  against  you,  - 
The  being  able  to  read,  in  any  way ; 
For  now  no  lead  nor  influence  is  allowed 
To  liberal  arts  or  learned  education, 
But  to  the  brutal,  base,  and  under-bred. 
Embrace  then  and  hold  fast  the  promises 
Which  the  oracles  of  the  gods  announce  to  vou." 


ICO  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

After  a  little  more  encouragement,  the  Sausage-Seller  gives 
up  his  apprehensions,  enters  the  lists  as  a  candidate  for  a 
place  in  the  household  of  Demos,  —  for  the  kitchen  cabinet  is 
not  an  exclusively  modern  idea,  —  and,  by  a  series  of  well- 
plied  flatteries,  makes  rapid  progress.  He  steals  a  hare-pie 
and  offers  it :  — 

"  Here  's  a  hare-pie,  my  dear  own  little  Demos, 
A  nice  hare-pie  I  've  brought  you !  see,  look  here !  " 

Cleon,  who  is  standing  by,  exclaims: 

"  By  Jove,  the  wretch  has  stolen  it  from  me. 
Sausage-Seller. 
Just  as  you  stole  the  prisoners  at  Pylos. 

Demos. 
How  did  you  steal  if?    I  beseech  you,  tell  me. 

Sausage-Seller. 
The  scheme  and  the  suggestion  were  divine, 
The  theft  and  the  execution  simply  mine. 

Cleon. 
I  took  the  trouble  — 

Sausage-Seller. 

But  I  served  it  up. 

Demos. 
Well,  he  that  brings  the  thing  must  get  the  thanks." 

The  competition  goes  on  briskly.  Demos  is  perplexed ;  but 
upon  searching  the  chest  of  Cleon,  and  finding  it  full  of  all 
sorts  of  dainties  filched  from  his  own  kitchen,  while  the  Sau- 
sage-Seller's is  wholly  empty, — all  this  backed  up  by  an  oracle 
that  points  clearly  to  the  Paphlagonian  as  the  fated  victim,  — 
notwithstanding  Cleon 's  declaration  that  he  stole  only  for  the 
public  service,  he  turns  him  out.  The  Sausage-Seller,  being 
iskei  what  is  to  be  done  with  the  Leather-Dresser,  says:  — 

"  He  shall  have  my  trade  j 
With  an  exclusive  sausage-selling  patent 
To  traffic  openly  at  the  city  gates, 
To  extend  his  wares  with  dogs'  and  asses'  flesh, 


THE   DEMOS.  151 

With  a  privilege  moreover  to  get  drunk, 
And  bully  among  the  rabble  of  the  suburbs 
And  the  ragamuffin  waiters  at  the  baths." 

And  Demos  says  to  his  new  minister:  — 

"  You  '11  fill  the  seat 
Which  that  unhappy  villain  held  before. 
Take  this  new  robe,  wear  it,  and  follow  me." 

If  we  look  at  this  representation  in  its  proper  light,  —  con- 
sidering it  as  what  it  was  meant  to  be,  a  caricature  founded  on 
truth,  a  bodily  presentation  and  lively  exaggeration  of  facts 
likely  to  come  to  the  surface  of  political  life  in  every  free  com 
munity,  —  we  must  pronounce  it  admirable ;  and  we  cannot 
help  commending  the  genial  good-humor  of  the  Demos,  who 
not  only  could  bear  to  have  his  faults  and  foibles  so  unspar- 
ingly exposed,  but  had  the  sense  to  crown  the  brilliant  author 
with  a  dramatic  first  prize,  —  a  strong  testimonial  to  the  ex- 
cellence of  the  piece.  And  it  is  excellent  for  the  vigor  of  its 
impersonation,  the  impartial  severity  with  which  the  lash  is  ap- 
plied to  the  high  as  well  as  to  the  low,  and  the  admirable  wit 
with  which  the  pretences  of  the  Attic  demagogue  are  exposed, 
and  his  utter  selfishness  held  up  to  ridicule  and  reprobation. 

In  several  other  comedies  the  witty  Athenian  has  touched 
upon  the  political  relations  of  his  times.  The  Peloponnesian 
war  furnished  the  themes  of  "  The  Acharnians  "  and  "  Lysis- 
trata,"  in  both  of  which,  with  some  coarseness  in  the  former 
and  a  great  deal  in  the  latter,  the  men  who  were  concerned  in 
its  civil  and  military  transactions,  and  the  transactions  them- 
selves, are  handled  with  a  masculine  vigor  and  with  infinite 
drollery. 

To  turn  now  to  the  culture  of  oratory  in  this  period,  I  have 
no  doubt  that,  besides  the  debates  reported  by  Thucydides, 
several  of  which  are  of  commanding  interest,  many  occurred  in 
the  Ecclesia  in  Athens,  and  at  the  great  crises  of  the  war,  in 
which  high  qualities  of  popular  eloquence  were  exhibited,  but 
of  which  we  have  no  report  at  all.  Alcibiades,  though  injured 
by  an  affected  drawl  and  lisp,  was  a  skilful  intriguer,  and  upon 

VOL.    II.  11 


162       CONSTITUTIONS  AND  ORATORS  OF  GREECE 

occasion  an  eloquent  debater.  Had  his  principles  been  equal 
to  his  genius,  his  name  might  have  been  set  high  among  the 
highest ;  but  he  was  a  contemptible  profligate,  and  his  public 
conduct  was  as  despicable  as  were  his  private  morals.  By 
turns  general,  traitor,  popular  favorite,  and  flying  for  his  life, 
he  had  but  one  good  impulse,  —  his  affection  for  Socrates. 

The  Alexandrian  critics  established  a  canon  of  oratory,  as 
of  poetry ;  and  the  earliest  name  on  their  list  of  ten  is  Anti- 
phon.  This  distinguished  person  was  born  at  Rhamnus,  a 
deme  on  the  eastern  side  of  Attica,  B.  C.  479.  Educated  by 
nis  father,  who  was  a  Sophist,  he  devoted  himself  to  politics 
and  the  rhetorical  art.  He  was  involved  in  the  intrigues  of 
Alcibiades,  and  had  much  to  do  with  establishing  the  oligarchy 
of  the  Four  Hundred.  Indeed,  Thucydides  affirms  that  it  was 
he  who  drew  up  the  plan  of  that  short-lived  government.  His 
personal  character  was  free  from  blemish,  and  he  was  a  man 
of  courage  and  resolute  will.  Thucydides  seems  to  have 
formed  a  high  opinion  of  him.  "  He  was  a  man,"  says  he, 
"  inferior  to  none  of  his  contemporaries  in  virtue,  and  distin- 
guished above  all  others  in  forming  plans,  and  recommending 
his  views  by  his  oratory."  He  made  no  public  speeches,  in- 
deed, nor  did  he  ever  of  his  own  accord  engage  in  the  litiga- 
tion of  the  courts ;  but  though  he  was  suspected  by  the  people 
on  account  of  his  high  reputation,  there  was  no  one  in  Athens 
who  was  better  able  to  assist  by  his  counsels  those  who  had  any 
contest  to  wage,  whether  in  the  law  courts  or  before  the  popu- 
lar assemblies.  When,  after  the  downfall  of  the  Four  Hundred, 
he  was  tried  for  his  life  as  having  been  a  party  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  oligarchy,  it  is  acknowledged  that  the  speech 
which  he  made  in  his  own  defence  was  the  best  that  had  ever 
been  made  up  to  that  time.  The  decree  of  the  Senate  is  pre- 
served, ordering  the  arrest  and  trial  of  Antiphon  and  several 
associates  for  treason,  on  the  charge  of  having  visited  Sparta  for 
purposes  hostile  to  the  Demos,  and  directing  certain  persons  to 
act  as  accusers.  This  is  followed  by  the  record  of  the  sentence 
that  thej  be  handed  over  to  the  Eleven,  their  property  confis 


antiphon.  163 

cated,  their  houses  razed  to  the  ground,  their  descendants  de- 
vested of  the  rights  of  citizenship,  and  their  bodies  deprived  of 
burial  at  Athens.  The  terms  of  the  sentence  show  clearly 
enough  the  influence  of  popular  passion,  which  had  not  yet  sub- 
sided after  the  overthrow  of  the  Four  Hundred.  There  is  but 
little  doubt  of  his  technical  guilt ;  but  to  punish  as  treason  all 
participation  in  a  revolutionary  movement  at  such  a  time  looks 
more  like  the  fierceness  of  private  revenge  than  the  calm  ad- 
ministration of  justice.  I  regret  much  that  we  have  not  the 
speech,  which  excited  the  admiration  of  so  good  a  judge  as 
Thucydides.  I  have  no  doubt  it  was  far  superior  to  any  of  his 
speeches  that  have  come  down  to  us.  These  show  ability,  sub- 
tilty,  and  great  command  of  the  language  of  argument ;  but, 
being  composed  for  others,  they  have  not  the  passionate  ear- 
nestness inspired  by  personal  danger.  An  able  man,  long  prac- 
tised in  the  arts  of  rhetoric  and  argument,  speaking  for  his  life, 
and  conscious  of  no  moral  guilt,  is  quite  a  different  person  from 
the  same  man  putting  together  ingenious  arguments  in  the  case 
of  a  client,  especially  if  he  is  not  to  deliver  them  himself. 

The  proper  business  of  his  life  was  the  writing  of  speeches, 
which  with  him  first  became  an  important  business ;  though 
indeed  it  had  been  practised  before,  and  always  remained  a 
necessary  avocation,  as  I  have  already  explained.  He  also 
established  a  school  of  rhetoric,  in  which  the  arts  of  compo- 
sition and  of  speaking  were  systematically  taught.  Like  the 
older  Sophists,  he  took  up  general  subjects  as  practical  ex- 
ercises. There  are  fifteen  of  his  speeches  remaining,  and  of 
these  twelve  belong  to  the  species  of  rhetorical  exercises.  They 
are  in  the  form  of  tetralogies,  each  tetralogy  containing  a  speech 
and  a  reply  of  the  plaintiff  and  the  defendant.  The  first  te- 
tralogy is  on  the  supposed  case  of  a  citizen  returning  with  his 
slave  from  a  supper  party,  and  slain  by  assassins.  The  slave, 
though  mortally  wounded,  lives  long  enough  to  inform  the 
family  that  he  recognized  among  the  murderers  a  man  who  was 
at  enmity  with  his  master,  and  who  was  about  losing  an  im- 
portant case  pending  between  him  and  the  murdered  persor. 


1 6-1  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

The  man  is  indicted,  and  the  speeches,  of  course,  turn  on  the 
probabilities  of  the  case.  An  element  in  the  estimation  of  the 
evidence  is  the  Greek  notion,  that  the  testimony  of  a  slave  is 
of  no  value  unless  he  is  first  put  to  the  torture.  The  argu- 
ments on  both  sides  are  extremely  acute,  and  show  the  subtilty 
and  skill  of  the  writer  in  a  remarkable  manner. 

The  second  tetralogy  is  upon  a  question  of  involuntary  or 
accidental  homicide.  Two  boys  were  throwing  javelins  in  a 
gymnasium.  It  happened  that,  just  as  one  had  hurled  his 
weapon,  the  other  ran  within  the  range  of  the  missile,  and  was 
killed.  The  father  of  the  deceased  prosecutes  the  one  who 
threw  the  missile  as  a  homicide ;  the  other  transfers  the  blame 
to  him  who  put  himself  in  the  way  of  being  hit.  The  issue  is 
joined  upon  the  question  which  is  the  guilty  party.  The  case 
is  a  little  like  that  so  ably  argued  by  the  grave-digger  in 
Hamlet ;  but  it  is  not  without  its  interest,  especially  in  illus- 
trating the  power  of  the  Greek  language  in  drawing  nice  dis- 
tinctions. The  arguments  are  short,  and  the  exercise  is  a  very 
good  one. 

The  third  tetralogy  puts  this  case.  A  young  man  and  an 
old  man  fight  together.  The  young  man  hits  harder  than  the 
old  one,  and  the  latter  dies.  The  young  man  is  accused  of 
murder.  He  defends  himself  by  turning  the  charge  of  hav- 
ing commenced  the  wrrong  upon  his  antagonist.  The  plea  is 
technically  called  an  avTeytcXrjfia,  or  counter-charge,  the  accused 
urguing  that  he  slew7  his  antagonist  in  self-defence.  More- 
over, he  did  not  kill  him  at  all ;  for  the  man  did  not  die  im- 
mediately, but  many  days  afterward.  He  died  because  of 
the  blundering  of  an  unskilful  surgeon  whom  he  had  called  in7 
not  on  account  of  the  blows.  Yet  more,  he  died  by  his  own 
rashness,  having  been  forewarned  by  other  physicians,  that,  if 
e  submitted  to  such  a  treatment,  though  curable,  he  would 
die.  But  if  any  man  supposes  that  the  death  resulted  from 
the  blows,  and  that  he  who  inflicted  them  is  the  murderer,  let 
him  consider  that  the  blows  first  inflicted  by  the  beginner  of 
the  wrong  constitute  him,  and  not  the  striker  of  the  blows  that 


ANTIPHON.  165 

proved  fatal,  the  cause  of  the  death.  The  accusers  are  really 
guilty  of  the  crimes  they  charge  upon  the  accused  ;  "  for,"  he 
argues,  "  they  have  plotted  my  death,  when  I  am  innocent ; 
endeavoring  to  take  away  my  life,  which  is  the  gift  of  God. 
They  are  impious  towards  God  ;  and  unjustly  plotting  my 
death,  they  confound  the  principles  of  the  laws,  and  become 
my  murderers ;  and  by  trying  to  persuade  you  fthe  dicasts) 
to  take  my  life,  they  become  the  murderers  of  your  reputation 
for  piety." 

In  addition  to  these  exercises  there  are  three  of  this  orator's 
speeches,  written  upon  real  cases,  and  delivered  in  court. 
One  is  the  accusation  of  a  step-mother  for  poisoning  her  hus- 
band. This  contains,  in  the  statement  of  the  case,  an  excellent 
specimen  of  simple  and  perspicuous  narrative.  The  story  of 
the  poisoning  is  extremely  well  told ;  and  the  argument  upon 
the  circumstances  is  subtile  and  acute.  It  was  delivered  by 
the  son  of  the  murdered  man.  The  issue  is  technically  called 
aro^ao-fio?,  —  or  conjecture,  —  that  is,  probability  from  circum- 
stantial evidence.  One  of  the  arguments  against  the  accused 
is  that  she  had  refused  to  give  her  slaves  up  to  the  torture. 

The  second  of  these  speeches  is  the  defence  of  a  man  from 
Mytilene,  named  Elos,  who  made  a  voyage  with  Herodes  to 
^Enos.  When  they  reached  Methymna,  in  Lesbos,  they  took 
passage  in  another  vessel.  Herodes  went  ashore  in  the  even- 
ing, and  never  appeared  again.  On  the  return  of  Elos  alone, 
the  relatives  of  Herodes  indicted  him  for  murder.  The  de- 
fence begins  by  excepting  to  the  indictment,  alleging  that  rob- 
bers and  thieves  are  malefactors,  and  that  the  prosecutor  has 
not  shown  that  Elos  had  been  guilty  of  any  act  that  would 
bring  him  under  this  category.  He  then  proceeds  to  a  general 
defence.  He  gives  a  very  lucid  statement  of  the  facts  of  the 
case,  puts  in  th?  testimony  of  witnesses,  and  founds  his  defence 
upon  a  careful  induction  from  these  facts.  It  is  remarkable 
that,  in  reply  to  the  testimony  of  a  slave  against  him,  he  argues 
exactly  as  we  should  argue  now  against  the  value  of  this  kind 
of  evidence.     "  Before   he   was  placed  upon  the  wheel,  and 


166  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

until  ne  was  reduced  to  the  last  necessity,  the  man  persisted  in 
declaring  my  innocence ;  when  he  could  bear  it  no  longer,  he 
gave  false  witness  against  me,  in  order  to  be  released  from 
the  torture ;  and  when  he  rested  from  the  torture,  he  again  de- 
clared that  I  was  not  guilty,  and  bemoaned  me  and  himself  as 
the  victims  of  injustice,  —  not  through  any  desire  to  favor  me, 
—  how  could  that  "be,  when  he  had  borne  false  witness  against 
me  ?  —  but  because  he  was  compelled  by  the  facts  to  confirm 
the  truth  of  his  first  statements."  One  would  suppose  that 
such  an  incident  and  so  conclusive  an  argument  would  have 
abolished  the  barbarous  practice  of  torturing  slaves. 

The  last  speech  is  the  defence  of  a  choregus  on  a  charge  of 
murder,  under  the  following  circumstances.  The  choregus  was 
the  person  who  was  called  upon  to  train  a  chorus,  —  one  of  the 
expensive  public  duties,  or  liturgies.  The  person  in  question 
had  at  his  own  house  the  young  men  who  were  in  training  for 
the  festival.  One  of  them  swallowed  some  kind  of  poison,  to 
make  his  voice  clearer,  and  lost  his  life  by  it.  The  father  of 
the  boy  prosecutes  the  choregus  on  a  charge  of  murder.  The 
accused  denies  the  charge.  The  evidence  is  only  circumstan- 
tial. The  statement  of  facts  here  also  is  in  excellent  style.  It 
has  a  special  interest  as  illustrating  incidentally  many  points 
connected  with  the  Athenian  system  of  liturgies,  and  especially 
the  training  for  the  musical  and  dramatic  contests. 

It  is  said  that  Thucvdides  the  historian  was  taught  in  the 
school  of  Antiphon.  This  is  likely  to  have  been  the  case.  The 
general  manner  of  the  speeches  in  the  historian  resembles  that 
of  the  speeches  of  the  orator.  There  is  the  same  vigor  and  sub- 
tilty  of  thought,  with  some  lack  of  ease  and  fluency  in  diction, 
but  at  the  same  time  with  great  accuracy  of  t.xpression,  as 
shown  in  nice  distinctions  often  drawn  between  words  appar- 
ently synonymous.  In  arrangement  of  ideas  Antiphon  shows 
wonderful  skill ;  yet  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  artifices  of 
style  are  sometimes  carried  too  far  for  the  best  effects  of  practi- 
cal oratory.  The  balancing  of  clauses,  the  recurrence  of  sim- 
ilar sounds  and  like  endings,  the  antitheses,  and  other  figure* 


ANDOCIDES.  167 

of  diction,  show  that  the  rhetorical  style  was  not  yet  equally 
adapted  to  the  highest  literary  standard,  and  to  direct  influ- 
ence on  living  men  upon  questions  that  came  home  to  their 
business  and  bosoms. 

The  next  orator  in  the  canon  is  Andocides,  the  son  of  Leo- 
goras,  born  of  a  noble  Athenian  family,  and  destined  from  his 
vouth  to  a  public  career.  He  was  early  employed  as  a  com- 
mander, then  as  ambassador  on  several  missions.  His  public 
career  was  unfortunately  arrested  by  his  being  involved  in  the 
trials  for  mutilating  the  Hermae  —  a  transaction  which  excited 
in  the  highest  degree  the  superstitious  fears  of  the  Athenians 
—  in  4io  B.  C.  He  narrowly  escaped  death,  partly  by  taking 
an  active  lead  in  denouncing  others,  —  not  a  very  honorable 
mode  of  escape,  —  and  partly  by  exiling  himself  to  avoid  the 
probable  atimia,  or  degradation,  which  would  have  been  per- 
haps the  smallest  penalty  to  be  expected  in  the  fanatical  ter- 
ror which  filled  the  community.  He  left  Athens,  and  en- 
gaged in  foreign  commerce.  When  the  oligarchy  of  the  Four 
Hundred  was  established,  he  returned ;  but  the  sudden  fall  of 
that  government  again  drove  him  from  the  city.  He  repaired 
again  to  Athens,  but  could  not  safely  remain.  He  withdrew 
to  Elis,  and  did  not  venture  another  return  until  the  overthrow 
of  the  Thirty,  when  he  came  back  under  the  protection  of  the 
general  amnesty.  He  rose  again  to  important  political  influ- 
ence ;  but  his  former  enemies,  resolved  on  his  ruin,  revived 
an  old  charge  that  he  bad  profaned  the  Mysteries  of  Eleusis. 
Against  this  charge  he  defended  himself  successfully.  Some 
years  later  he  was  sent  on  an  embassy  to  Sparta,  B.  C.  394, 
but  the  results  of  his  mission  were  so  unsatisfactory  that  the 
Athenians  banished  him,  and  he  died  in  exile.  Such  were  the 
vicissitudes  of  a  public  life  at  Athens  in  those  troublous  times. 
There  are  only  three  of  his  speech.es  remaining ;  —  one  on  his 
return  from  exile  ;  the  second,  his  defence  on  the  accusation 
of  having  profaned  the  Mysteries ;  and  the  third,  delivered 
in  892  B.  C,  on  the  peace  with  Sparta.  There  is  another 
speech  —  that  against  Alcibiades  —  usually  printed  under  his 


168  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

name,  but  which  the  critics  have  pronounced  spurious.  The 
oration  on  the  Peace  was  also  questioned  by  Dionysius  of 
Halicarnassus. 

It  seems  to  me,  notwithstanding  what  some  of  the  critics 
have  said  in  depreciation  of  Andocides  as  compared  with  Anti- 
phon,  that  he  was,  if  not  as  subtile,  at  least  as  able.  His  narra- 
tive is  as  clear  and  precise;  his  arguments,  standing  on  broader 
grounds,  are  more  readily  comprehended ;  his  style  has  fewer 
mere  rhetorical  figures ;  he  understands  better  how  to  make 
an  appeal  to  his  judges  in  a  natural  and  effective  manner  ; 
and  he  is,  in  all  respects,  a  more  pleasing  writer.  I  will  read 
a  few  sentences  from  his  defence  on  the  charge  of  profaning 
the  Mysteries.  In  answer  to  the  suggestion  that  he  ought  not 
to  have  returned  from  Cyprus,  where  he  was  leading  a  pros- 
perous and  happy  life,  to  take  the  hazards  of  his  unpopularity 
at  Athens,  he  says,  I  think,  with  a  skilful  appreciation  of  the 
feelings  of  an  Attic  court :  —  "I  hold,  gentlemen,  an  opinion 
very  different  from  theirs.  A  life  elsewhere,  enjoying  every 
blessing,  but  deprived  of  my  country,  I  would  not  accept,  even 
were  the  city  as  hostile  to  me  as  my  enemies  assert.  I  should 
greatly  prefer  to  be  a  citizen  of  Athens  rather  than  of  other 
cities,  which  seem  to  me,  perhaps,  at  the  present  moment,  to 
be  very  fortunate.  Thinking  thus,  I  have  committed  my  life 
to  your  hands.  I  pray  you,  gentlemen,  to  grant  to  me,  the 
defendant,  a  more  favoring  mind  than  to  my  accusers,  knowing 
that,  although  you  listen  impartially,  the  defendant  is  neces- 
sarily at  a  disadvantage.  They,  having  long  conspired,  and 
organized  their  attack,  themselves  out  of  the  reach  of  danger, 
make  the  accusation.  1  make  my  defence  with  fear  and  peril, 
and  under  the  heaviest  calumny.  It  is  reasonable,  therefore, 
that  you  should  accord  to  me  a  more  favoring  mind  than  to 
my  accusers."  In  my  judgment,  this  passage,  as  well  as  manv 
others,  shows  uncommon  skill  in  dealing  with  a  jury. 

In  the  speech  vindicating  the  peace  with  Sparta,  the  topics 
appear  to  me  to  be  admirably  arranged  and  powerfully  urged. 
Some  one  had  argued  that  peace  with  Sparta  would  work  the 


ANDOCIDES.  169 

overthrow  of  the  people.  He  replies  by  recapitulating  the 
blessings  which  had  come  to  the  Athenian  people,  in  former 
times,  from  peace.  "  It  is  your  duty,  men  of  Athens,  to  use 
the  past  as  evidence  of  the  future.  When  we  were  at  war 
in  Eubcea,  and  possessed  Megara  and  Pegse  and  Trcezen,  we 
desired  peace.  We  recalled  the  ostracized  Miltiades,  the  son 
of  Cimon,  then  in  Chersonesus,  for  no  other  reason  than,  as  he 
was  a  friend  of  the  Spartans,  that  we  might  send  him  to  them 
to  offer  terms  of  peace.  And  then  we  had  peace ;  and  in  that 
peace  were  the  people  of  the  Athenians  overthrown  ?  No 
man  can  say  so ;  but  I  will  tell  you  what  benefits  flowed  from 
that  peace.  First,  we  enclosed  the  Peiraeus  with  defences,  and 
built  the  northern  long  wall.  Next,  in  place  of  the  old  and 
unseaworthy  ships,  with  which  we  defeated  the  King  and  his 
barbarians,  and  gave  freedom  to  Greece,  we  built  a  hundred 
war-triremes.  These  and  other  benefits,  with  a  great  increase 
of  power,  accrued  to  the  people  of  Athens  from  that  peace  with 
Sparta.  Again,  we  had  a  war  on  account  of  the  JEginetans ; 
and  after  having  suffered  and  inflicted  many  injuries,  again  we 
desired  peace.  Ten  ambassadors  selected  from  all  of  the  Athe- 
nians (one  of  whom  was  Andocides,  my  grandfather)  were 
sent,  with  full  powers,  to  Sparta,  to  conclude  a  peace.  They 
concluded  a  peace  for  thirty  years.  And  in  this  long  time, 
were  the  people  of  Athens  overthrown  ?  Were  any  persons 
detected  in  working  their  overthrow  ?  Quite  the  contrary. 
That  very  peace  raised  the  people  of  Athens  so  high,  and 
made  them  so  strong,  that  we  deposited  in  the  Acropolis,  in 
those  years  of  peace,  a  thousand  talents,  and  assigned  them 
by  law  to  the  exclusive  use  of  the  people  ;  and  in  the  next 
place,  we  built  a  hundred  more  ships  of  war,  constructed 
docks,  increased  our  police,  and  built  the  southern  long  wall. 
These  benefits  and  this  increase  of  power  accrued  to  the  peo- 
ple of  Athens  from  the  peace  with  Sparta.  Again  going  to 
war  on  account  of  the  Megareans,  leaving  our  country  to  be 
ravaged,  and  suffering  many  privations,  again  we  made  peace, 
through  the  agency  of  Nicias,  the  son  of  Niceratus ;  and  I  am 


170  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

sure  you  all  know  that  through  that  peace  we  deposited  in  the 
Acropolis  seven  thousand  talents  in  coin ;  that  we  built  more 
than  four  hundred  ships  of  war ;  that  a  revenue  of  more  than 
twelve  hundred  talents  came  in ;  that  we  gained  possession  of 
Chersonesus  and  Naxos  and  more  than  two  thirds  of  Euboea. 
....  And  while  enjoying  these  benefits,  again  we  became  in- 
volved in  war  with  Sparta,  at  the  call  of  the  Argives.  Now, 
men  of  Athens,  remember  the  proposition  which  I  laid  down 
at  the  beginning  of  the  argument.  Was  it  not  that  the  Athe- 
nian people  have  never  been  overthrown  by  peace  ?  That 
proposition  is  certainly  proved." 

It  appears  to  me  that  the  historical  argument  in  this  passage 
is  well  put ;  the  cases  are  apposite,  and  the  facts  striking.  It 
was  not  the  orator's  purpose  to  undervalue  the  glory  of  martial 
achievements.  That  would  not  have  been  a  welcome  topic  to 
an  Athenian  assembly,  who  could  never  hear  an  allusion  to 
Marathon  or  Salamis  without  going  off  in  a  patriotic  frenzy. 
On  the  contrary,  the  manner  in  which  he  brings  in  the  old, 
disabled  war-galleys  that  fought  the  Persians  at  Salamis,  — 
just  glancing  at  that  memorable  day,  —  was  well  suited  to  stir 
the  blood  of  the  hearers  as  with  the  sound  of  a  trumpet.  He 
wished  to  remind  them,  however,  that,  in  every  case  in  which 
peace  had  been  made,  the  dignity  and  power  of  the  Demos  had 
received  lasting  increase ;  and  by  inference,  those  who  nego- 
tiated peace  on  these  several  occasions  were  public  benefactors. 
The  argument  is,  of  course,  a  vindication  of  the  treaty  which 
he  had  himself  assisted  in  negotiating. 

These  two  orators  belong  especially  to  the  period  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  and  to  the  years  of  agitation  which  fol- 
lowed it.  It  is  singular  that  so  much  study  and  care,  in  such  a 
time,  could  be  expended  on  art  by  men  whose  personal  for- 
tunes and  whose  very  lives  were  so  involved  in  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  war  and  the  revolutions  of  the  state.  They  are  two 
highly  significant  figures,  illustrating  by  their  characters  and 
works  the  Attic  genius  in  an  important  and  trying  period. 


LECTURE    X. 

I  HE  SPARTAN  ASCENDENCY.  —  EPOCH  OF  THEBAN  GLORY. 
-  LYSIAS.  —  ISOCRATES.  —  IS^EUS.  —  LYSIAS  AND  ISMUS 
COMPARED. 

In  the  last  Lecture  I  endeavored  to  present  an  outline  of 
public  events,  as  they  affected  Athens  and  her  institutions, 
during  the  Peloponnesian  war.  The  internal  revolutions  were 
briefly  indicated,  and  the  general  demoralization,  as  described 
by  Thucydides,  was  noticed.  I  also  cited  the  testimony  of 
the  Comedies  of  Aristophanes,  as  illustrative  of  the  rapid  de- 
terioration of  public  life  after  the  death  of  Pericles.  The 
play  of  "  The  Knights  "  was  briefly  analyzed,  in  illustration  of 
the  intrigues  of  the  demagogues  to  win  the  favor  and  con- 
trol the  affairs  of  the  Athenian  Demos.  The  downfall  of 
Athens,  at  the  close  of  that  fierce  and  protracted  encounter 
of  grasping  and  vindictive  passions,  gave  the  Spartans  unques- 
tioned pre-eminence  in  the  affairs  of  Greece.  The  islands 
and  cities  which  had  previously  acknowledged  the  leadership 
of  Athens  now  tell  under  the  sway  of  Sparta,  who  proceeded 
to  exercise  her  power  by  displacing  the  democracies  and  sub- 
stituting oligarchies.  These  were  mostly  bodies  of  ten,  consti- 
tuting a  kind  of  council  of  state,  and  exercising  the  functions 
of  gover.iment  despotically.  In  some  places,  however,  they 
set  up  a  governor  under  the  title  of  Harmost,  or  Regulator, 
who  was  a  petty  tyrant,  responsible  only  to  Sparta,  and  quite 
certain  to  find  ample  support  at  home  for  any  amount  of  op- 
pression he  might  see  fit  te>  exercise.  At  Athens,  the  Demos 
was  restored,  it  is  true,  but  shorn  of  its  power  and  splendor. 
Lysander  took  away  all   her  fleet  but  twelve   triremes,   de- 


172  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

stroyed  the  arsenals,  and  burned  the  unfinished  ships  on  the 
stocks.  The  walls  and  bulwarks  of  the  city  were  demolished, 
while  flute-players  and  dancing  girls  were  insolently  employed 
to  give  to  the  work  of  destruction  the  aspect  of  a  festival. 

But,  fortunately,  the  Athens  of  Pericles  and  Pheidias  —  the 
Acropolis  with  its  Propylasa  and  Parthenon,  its  bronze  mo. 
marble  statues — yet  remained.  Athens  was  still,  as  before,  the 
most  illustrious  centre  of  art,  the  consecrated  home  of  all  tha* 
was  most  precious  and  delightful  in  the  works  of  genius  and 
the  refinements  of  social  life.  Her  confederates  soon  began  to 
groan  under  the  Spartan  bondage,  and  to  look  back  regretfully 
to  the  milder  rule  of  the  city  of  Athene  ;  and  hardly  had  the 
supremacy  of  Sparta  been  established,  when  the  incurable 
vices  of  Laconian  institutions  began  to  threaten  their  dissolu- 
tion. Greece  and  Asia  Minor  were  overrun  by  military  ad- 
venturers, thrown  out  of  employment  by  the  cessation  of  arms. 
A  large  body,  known  in  history  as  the  Ten  Thousand,  en- 
listed in  the  service  of  Cyrus  the  Younger,  in  his  rebellious  at- 
tempt to  dethrone  his  elder  brother,  and,  after  the  defeat  and 
death  of  Cyrus,  performed  that  wonderful  march  of  fifteen  hun- 
dred miles  through  a  hostile  country,  under  the  able  leadership 
of  Xenophon  the  Athenian,  who  has  immortalized  the  retreat 
in  the  most  interesting;  of  his  books.  Asia  Minor  became  the 
scene  of  hostilities  between  the  Spartans  and  Persians,  inter- 
rupted only  by  hostilities  at  home  between  the  tyrant  city  of 
the  Peloponnesus  and  her  discontented  allies.  The  destruc- 
tion of  the  Lacedaemonian  fleet  by  Conon,  in  the  battle  of 
Cnidos,  ci'ippled  the  power  of  Sparta  by  destroying  her  naval 
supremacy.  The  peace  of  Antalcidas,  B.  C.  387,  negotiated  by 
that  diplomatist,  but  really  dictated  by  the  Persian  king,  and 
recognizing  him  as  the  arbitrator  of  the  destinies  of  Greece, 
completed  the  odium  under  which  Sparta  justly  fell.  Other 
troubles  in  Central  and  Northern  Greece  —  aggressions  of  the 
Spartans  in  Boeotia,  and  the  seizure  of  the  Cadmeia  of  Thebes 
—  tended  to  keep  alive  a  hostile  spirit  very  disastrous  to  the 
pi*osperity  of  the  cities.     The  Athenians  took  the  alarm,  and 


EPOCH  OF  THEBAN  GLORY.  173 

alliec  themselves  with  Thebes.  Gradually  the  Athenian  con- 
federacy was  reorganized,  and  preparations  were  made  for  a 
new  wai. 

Unfortunately  for  Sparta,  a  man  of  the  highest  military  ge- 
nius now  appeared  at  Thebes,  —  Epaminondas,  as  much  dis- 
tinguished for  probity  as  for  bravery,  —  thought  by  some  to  be 
the  greatest  general  Greece  had  yet  produced.  He  was  a  man, 
too,  of  high  intellectual  accomplishments  and  endowments, 
familiar  with  the  literature  and  philosophy  of  his  times,  and 
eloquent  beyond  all  his  countrymen.  Pelopidas  also  was  be- 
ginning to  be  known  as  an  able  statesman  and  commander ; 
and  these  twro  eminent  persons  were  united  in  the  bonds  of 
intimate  and  cordial  friendship.  Under  the  guidance  of  these 
great  leaders  the  power  of  Thebes  increased  so  rapidly  as  to 
excite  the  jealousy  of  Athens,  who  offered  terms  to  Sparta; 
but  the  cessation  of  hostilities  was  only  momentary.  Antalci- 
das  was  sent  to  Persia,  B.  C.  372,  to  solicit  the  intervention  of 
that  power ;  but  a  general  desire  for  peace  led  to  a  renewed  ne- 
gotiation, and  a  congress  of  deputies  was  held  at  Sparta,  B.  C. 
371.  The  terms  of  a  general  peace  were  agreed  upon  by  all 
except  Epaminondas,  wrho  represented  Thebes.  This  is  known 
in  history  as  the  Peace  of  Callias,  as  Callias,  one  of  the  rep- 
resentatives of  Athens,  was  very  active  in  bringing  it  about. 
The  refusal  of  Thebes  caused  the  greatest  irritation  among  the 
Spartans,  and  Boeotia  was  immediately  invaded.  The  decisive 
battle  of  Leuctra,  fought  only  three  weeks  after  the  conclusion 
of  the  Peace  of  Callias,  sent  a  thrill  through  all  Greece,  and 
set  up  a  new  power  over  the  ruins  of  the  defeated  leadership  of 
Sparta.  Thebes  now  assumed  the  position  which  Sparta  held 
before  ;  and  Sparta  sank  so  low  that  she  sent  ambassadors  to 
solicit  the  aid  of  Athens.  The  battle  of  Mantineia,  B.  G.  362, 
again  gave  the  Thebans  a  victory,  dearly  bought  by  the  death 
of  Epaminondas ;  and  this  brings  us  down  to  the  period  when 
the  power  of  Macedon  began  to  be  ominously  seen  in  the  af- 
fairs of  Greece.  The  Spartan  supremacy  had  continued  from 
the  downfall  of  Athens,  only  *)r  a  few  years  unresisted,  an<) 


174  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

then  maintained  with  costly  struggles  till  the  battle  of  Leuetra, 
B.  C.  371.  The  supremacy  of  Thebes  was  bound  up  in  the 
lives  of  two  men,  Epaminondas  and  Pelopidas,  and  disap- 
peared when  the  shadows  of  an  approaching  conflict  began  to 
fall  upon  the  face  of  the  land  from  the  north,  about  B.  C.  361. 

Within  this  period  are  included  the  closing  years  and  the 
judicial  murder  of  Socrates,  the  latter  part  of  the  life  of  Aris- 
tophanes, and  the  exhibition  of  three  or  four  of  his  Comedies. 
Plato  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-four  or  twenty-five  at  its 
commencement,  and  survived  it  fourteen  years  ;  Aristotle  was 
a  youth  of  three-and-twenty  at  its  close,  and  had  been  for 
about  three  years  a  student  of  philosophy  in  Athens ;  and  De- 
mosthenes just  about  the  same  time  was  prosecuting  his  un- 
faithful guardians  for  squandering  his  estate,  and  giving  the 
first  proofs  of  that  intellectual  superiority  which  afterwards 
carried  him  to  the  highest  pinnacle  of  fame.  Philip  was  still 
a  hostage  in  Thebes,  studying  the  characters  of  the  leading 
men  of  Greece,  the  relations  of  parties,  and  the  struggling 
passions  in  the  states,  and  acquiring  that  knowledge  of  the 
Greek  language  and  literature  of  which  he  made  such  mas- 
terly use  in  his  subsequent  reign.  The  grouping  of  these  im- 
portant personages  in  this  period  presents  a  striking  picture, 
—  a  wonderful  variety  of  intellectual  forces,  each  destined  to 
make  its  mark  in  history,  and  to  tell  upon  the  condition  of  the 
world. 

The  three  orators  whose  lives  and  labors  fall  within  this 
period  are  Lysias,  Isocrates,  and  Isaeus.  The  first  was  born 
in  458  B.  C. ;  the  second,  in  436  B.  C. ;  and  the  last,  some 
years  later.  Lysias  died  in  378  B.  C. ;  Isocrates  lived  till 
338  B.  C. ;  and  Isaeus  died  ten  years  earlier,  348  B.  C. 

The  family  of  Lysias  was  Syracusan  by  origin.  His  father, 
Cephalus,  was  invited  by  Pericles  to  settle  in  Athens.  He  is 
introduced  in  Plato's  Republic  as  a  venerable  old  man,  greatly 
beloved  by  all  who  knew  him.  Lysias  joined  the  colonists  who 
emigrated  to  Thurii  in  444  B.  C,  though  then  but  fifteen  years 
old.     There   he   studied   rhetoric  under  the  Sicilian  masters 


LYSIAS.  175 

Tisias  and  Nicias.  In  412  he  returned  to  Athens,  and,  though 
only  a  resident  alien,  not  having  therefore  the  full  rights  of 
citizenship,  he  established  a  school.  He  and  his  family  were 
ardent  supporters  of  the  democracy ;  and  when  the  Thirty 
came  into  power,  his  brother  Polemarchus  was  put  to  death, 
while  he  saved  his  life  only  by  fleeing  to  Megara.  He  gave 
his  support  to  Thrasybulus,  raised  a  body  of  men  for  the  en- 
terprise, and  returned  to  Athens  with  the  triumphant  liberator. 
When  Eratosthenes,  one  of  the  Thirty,  ventured  to  return  to 
Athens  under  the  general  amnesty,  Lysias  appeared  as  his 
prosecutor ;  for  it  had  so  happened  that  Eratosthenes  was  the 
man  who  had  arrested  the  brother  of  the  orator.  The  oration 
delivered  on  this  occasion  was  the  first  spoken  by  him  in  open 
court ;  and  it  marks  an  important  epoch  in  his  life  ;  for  up  to 
this  time  his  labors  had  been  limited  to  teaching,  and  writing 
speeches  as  school  exercises.  Eratosthenes  denied  that  he  had 
voted  in  the  senate-house  for  the  death  of  Polemarchus,  and 
he  claimed  that  he  belonged  to  the  more  moderate  party  of  the 
Thirty  :  but  there  was  the  undeniable  fact  that  he  had  carried 
out  the  decree  of  the  Thirty,  and  had  put.  Polemarchus  to 
death  without  any  form  of  law  ;  nay,  more,  that  the  dead 
body  of  the  murdered  man  had  been  treated  with  gross  in- 
dignity, —  an  outrage  on  Hellenic  feelings  worse  than  death 
itself.  No  wonder,  then,  that  a  strong  feeling  of  personal  ani- 
mosity pervades  the  oration.  The  temper  of  the  speaker  is 
shown  in  the  very  first  paragraph. 

"  It  is  not  difficult  for  me,  judges,  to  begin  this  accusation, 
but  it  is  difficult  to  leave  off  speaking.  Crimes  so  great  in 
magnitude  and  so  many  in  number  have  been  perpetrated  by 
these  men,  that  he  who  might  be  willing  to  falsify  could  not 
exaggerate  their  enormity,  nor,  if  he  adhered  to  the  truth, 
could  he  tell  the  whole  truth  ;  but,  of  necessity,  either  the  ac- 
cuser must  give  out,  or  the  time  would  fail  him.  Formerly  it 
was  necessary  for  accusers  to  explain  the  ground  of  their  hos- 

'lity  to  the  accused ;  but  now  it  becomes  our  duty  to  inquire 
!>f  the  accused  what  was  their  enmity  to  the  city,  and  whv 


176  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

they  dared  to  commit  such  crimes  against  it.  I  speak  thus, 
not  because  I  have  no  private  wrongs  and  griefs  ;  for  all  the 
citizens  have  more  cause  of  resentment  for  their  personal  suf- 
ferings than  for  the  offences  committed  against  the  state.  But, 
judges,  having  never  before  appeared  for  myself  or  others,  I 
am  now  compelled  by  what  has  taken  place  to  come  forward 
as  this  man's  accuser  ;  and  I  have  often  despaired  lest,  on  ac- 
count of  my  inexperience,  I  should  conduct  the  prosecution  in 
behalf  of  my  murdered  brother  and  myself  in  a  feeble  and 
unworthy  manner.  Nevertheless,  I  will  endeavor  to  lay  the 
whole  case  before  you  in  the  fewest  possible  words." 

He  then  recounts,  in  the  most  animated  manner,  the  history 
of  his  family,  their  emigration  to  Athens,  the  establishment  of 
the  Thirty,  the  denunciation  of  himself  and  his  brother,  and  his 
own  arrest  and  escape.  Melobius  and  Mnesitheides,  he  says,  ar- 
rested him.  He  was  carried  to  the  house  of  Damnippus,  where 
Theognis  was  holding  others  in  custody.  Damnippus  thought  it 
best  to  speak  with  Theognis,  who  would  do  anything  for  money. 
While  the  conversation  was  going  on,  Lysias,  who  was  familiar 
with  the  house  and  remembered  that  it  had  entrances  on  both 
sides,  resolved  to  attempt  an  escape,  considering  that,  if  he 
could  get  away  unseen,  his  life  would  be  saved,  and  if  he  were 
caught,  Theognis  was  open  to  bribery,  and  would  take  the 
money  just  as  readily ;  or,  if  not,  he  (Lysias)  would  die  as 
if  nothing  had  happened.  On  this  calculation,  he  made  the 
attempt,  the  guard  being  placed  at  the  front  door.  Luckily  he 
found  all  three  of  the  doors  through  which  he  had  to  pass  open. 
He  took  refuge  in  the  house  of  Archeneos,  a  well-known 
ship-owner,  and,  sending  him  to  inquire  what  had  become  of 
his  brother,  and  learning  that  Eratosthenes  had  arrested  him  in 
the  street  and  dragged  him  to  prison,  he  went  by  sea  the  fol- 
lowing night  to  Megara.  The  Thirty  sentenced  Polemarchus 
to  suffer  the  customary  death  by  drinking  hemlock,  without 
even  informing  him  of  the  reason  why  he  was  to  die  ;  so  far 
tvere  they  from  affording  him  a  fair  trial  with  an  opportunity 
rf  defence.    "They  plundered  his  property,  insulted  his  corpse 


LYS1AS.  177 

and,  in  their  shameless  eagerness  to  rob,  even  tore  the  golden 
ear-rings  from  the  ears  of  his  wife."  After  a  few  more 
statements  urged  in  a  like  vehement  manner,  he  says :  "  I 
thought  the  charges  already  made  were  enough ;  for  I  am  of 
opinion  that  the  accusation  should  be  so  far  pushed  that  the 
accused  shall  be  proved  to  have  committed  crimes  deserving 
death.  Death  is  the  extreme  penalty  which  we  can  exact 
from  them.  And  I  do  not  know  that  there  is  any  occasion  to 
carry  the  accusation  further  against  men  who  could  not  satisfy 
justice  by  dying  twice  for  every  one  of  their  deeds."  Yet, 
after  this  strong  description  of  the  nature  of  the  case,  he  goes 
on  through  many  more  pages  of  narrative,  invective,  argument, 
and  passionate  calls  for  justice  on  the  offender ;  and  closes  with 
the  pithy  sentence,  "  You  have  heard,  you  have  seen,  you  have 
suffered  ;  you  have  him,  — judge." 

Another  speech  of  similar  import,  and  much  in  the  same 
style,  is  that  against  Agoratus.  This  man  appears  to  have 
been  a  miserable  tool  in  the  employ  of  the  oligarchical  party, 
and  an  informer  in  the  pay  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants.  One  of  the 
victims  of  his  infamous  trade  was  Dionysiodorus,  a  near  relative 
of  Lysias.  He  was  prosecuted  by  Lysias  for  murder.  Here 
again  we  meet  with  the  same  vehemence  of  personal  feeling, 
and  the  same  clearness  and  vigor  of  narrative,  in  a  recital 
which  extends  over  the  period  of  the  downfall  of  Athens  and 
the  establishment  of  the  Thirty,  containing  therefore  many 
facts  of  deep  historical  interest.  Bringing  the  story  down  to 
the  time  when  the  victims  had  been  condemned  to  death,  in  a 
few  simple  words  he  paints  a  scene  in  prison,  which  must  have 
been  very  impressive  before  a  body  of  citizens  who  had  so 
recently  escaped  from  the  horrors  of  so  lawless  a  tyranny. 
"  Judges,  when  sentence  of  death  had  been  passed  upon 
fhese  men,  and  they  were  doomed  to  die,  they  sent  for  their 
friends  to  the  prison,  —  one  for  a  sister,  one  for  a  mother,  one 
for  his  wife,  each  for  the  person  nearest  to  him,  —  in  order 
that  they  might  embrace  t'nem  for  the  last  time  before  they 
died.      And   Dionysiodorus   sent   for  my  sister,   his  wife,   tc 

VOL.    II.  12 


178  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

the  prison.  Immediately  on  receiving  the  message  she  went, 
—  clothed  in  mourning,  as  was  becoming,  her  own  husband 
being  involved  in  such  a  calamity.  In  the  presence  of  my 
sister,  Dionysiodorus  disposed  of  his  property  as  he  thought 
right,  and  then  spoke  of  this  Agoratus,  declaring  him  to  be  the 
author  of  his  death,  and  charging  me,  and  his  own  brother 
Dionysius,  and  all  his  friends,  to  avenge  him  upon  Agoratus ; 
and  he  enjoined  upon  his  wife  to  tell,  when  the  time  should 
come,  her  then  unborn  child,  should  it  be  a  son,  that  Ago- 
ratus had  killed  his  father,  and  to  bid  him  pursue  him  as 
his  father's  murderer." 

At  the  opening  of  the  speech  he  had  represented  Agoratus 
as  the  common  enemy  of  himself  and  the  dicasts.  Now,  hav- 
ing brought  to  their  imaginations  the  scene  in  prison,  he  pro- 
ceeds at  once  to  charge  upon  the  accused  a  participation  in 
the  other  crimes  of  the  Thirty.  "  I  grieve,  men  of  Athens, 
to  remind  you  of  the  calamities  that  have  befallen  the  city ; 
but  it  is  necessary,  judges,  on  the  present  occasion,  in  order 
that  you  may  see  how  little  Agoratus  deserves  your  pity. 
You  know  the  citizens  brought  over  from  Salamis,  who  they 
were  and  how  many,  and  what  a  death  they  died  at  the 
hands  of  the  Thirty  ;  you  know  the  victims  from  Eleusis,  how 
many  shared  the  same  fate  ;  and  you  remember  those  who, 
through  private  enmities  here,  were  dragged  to  prison,  — 
men  who  had  done  no  wrong  to  the  city,  but  were  doomed  to 
perish  by  a  most  shameful  and  ignominious  death,  some  leav- 
ing behind  them  aged  parents,  who  hoped  to  be  cherished  in 
old  age  by  their  sons,  and  to  be  laid  by  their  hands  in  the 
tomb,  when  they  had  closed  their  life ;  others  leaving  sisters 
unmarried ;  others,  little  children,  needing  their  tender  care. 
What  think  you,  judges,  would  be  their  feelings  towards  this 
man,  or  what  verdict  would  they  render,  if  they  had  a  verdict 
to  give,  —  they  who  were  robbed  by  him  of  their  nearest  and 
dearest?  " 

In  another  passage  he  says:  "I  desire  to  show  you,  judges, 
what  sort  of  men  you  have  been  deprived  of  by  Agoratus. 


LYSIAS.  179 

Some  of  them,  having  commanded  your  armLs,  transmitted 
the  city  greater  to  their  successors  ;  others,  having  held  vari- 
ous high  magistracies,  and  having  performed  faithfully  all  their 
public  duties,  never  had  their  characters  impeached.  Some 
were  preserved,  whom  he  would  gladly  have  slain,  and  against 
whom  he  procured  a  sentence  of  death ;  but  by  the  favor  of 
fortune  and  of  God  they  escaped,  and,  returning  with  Thrasy- 
bulus  from  Phyle,  are  honored  by  you  as  noble  men.  Of  such 
men  as  these,  some  Agoratus  slew,  others  he  drove  into  txile. 
And  who  is  he?  You  must  know  that  he  is  a  slave, — the  off- 
spring of  slaves.  Such  is  the  wretch  who  has  done  all  this 
wickedness." 

In  another  place  he  says :  "  I  hear  that  he  is  prepared  to  as- 
sert, in  his  defence,  that  he  fled  to  Phyle,  and  returned  with 
the  exiles ;  and  that  this  is  what  he  chiefly  relies  upon.  It 
was  so ;  he  did  go  to  Phyle,  —  and  how  could  he  show  himself 
a  greater  villain,  than,  knowing  that  men  were  there  who  had 
been  driven  to  banishment  by  himself,  by  daring  to  go  where 
they  were  ?  Well,  the  moment  they  saw  him  they  took  him 
out  to  kill  him,  to  the  spot  where  they  were  wont  to  slay 
thieves  and  malefactors  when  they  caught  them.  But  Any- 
tus,  the  commander,  said  it  was  inexpedient  at  that  mo- 
ment to  take  vengeance  on  their  enemies ;  but  if  they  should 
ever  be  restored  to  their  country,  then  they  could  punish  the 
guilty." 

I  have  dwelt  at  some  length  upon  these  two  orations,  be- 
cause they  belong  to  a  period  of  agitation,  before  the  passions 
of  men  had  entirely  subsided  from  the  stirring  events  of  the 
war,  the  tyranny  of  the  Thirty,  their  expulsion,  and  the  first 
days  of  the  restored  democracy. 

Lysias  was  somewhat  under  the  influence  of  the  Sicilian 
school,  which  delighted  in  artifices  of  style ;  but  he  had  more 
terseness  and  vigor  of  expression  than  his  models.  His  early 
works,  that  is,  his  school  exercises,  have  not  been  preserved. 
The  speeches  that  remain  belong  to  the  maturity  of  his  genius 
and  taste.     In  the  fiftieth  year  of  his  age  he  commenced  the 


180  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF    GREECE. 

business  of  writing  arguments  for  others.  In  doing  this,  he 
proceeded  upon  a  somewhat  original  plan,  and  studied  to  adapt 
his  compositions  to  the  character,  education,  age,  and  circum- 
stances of  the  persons  who  were  to  deliver  them.  He  scru- 
tinized the  ordinary  language  of  men  in  common  life,  em- 
ployed figures  but  sparingly,  and  aimed  to  furnish  his  client 
with  the  greatest  amount  of  arguments  compatible  with  the 
nature  of  the  case  and  the  time  allowed  to  the  speaker.  He 
always  begins  by  endeavoring  to  conciliate  the  good  will  of  the 
court ;  the  narrative  is  always  lively  and  interesting,  and  has 
the  air  of  entire  truthfulness  and  sincerity ;  and  the  reasoning 
is  clear,  coherent,  forcible,  and,  if  the  case  admits  of  such  a 
possibility,  conclusive.  With  these  qualities,  one  is  not  sur- 
prised to  learn  that  he  very  often  gained  his  causes, — in  short, 
that  he  was  a  most  successful  jury-lawyer.  Add  to  this,  that 
he  was  one  of  the  most  prolific  of  the  Attic  logographers. 
Four  hundred  and  twenty-five  orations  once  passed  under  his 
name,  and  two  hundred  and  fifty  were  acknowledged  by  the 
ancients  as  genuine.  Thirty-five  have  come  down  to  us ;  and 
among  them  are  several  which  are  the  best  and  most  interest- 
ing authorities  for  the  period  between  401  and  387  B.  C. 

The  next  eminent  rhetorician  of  this  period  is  Isocrates,  of 
whom,  according  to  Plato,  Socrates  predicted  :  "  He  not  only 
in  oratory  will  leave  all  others  behind  him,  like  children,  but  a 
divine  instinct  will  lead  him  on  to  still  greater  things,  for  there 
is  an  earnest  love  of  wisdom  in  the  heart  of  the  man." 

The  father  of  Isocrates  was  a  wealthy  and  respectable  citizen 
of  Athens,  named  Theodorus,  who  carried  on  the  manufacture 
of  flutes,  —  a  circumstance  that  gave  occasion  to  many  satirical 
allusions  by  the  comic  poets  of  the  time.  Isocrates  was  born  in 
the  first  year  of  the  86th  Olympiad,  or  B.  C.  436,  in  the  archon- 
ship  of  Lysimachus,  a  little  less  than  half  a  century  before  the 
birth  of  Demosthenes,  and  five  years  before  the  breaking  out 
of  the  Peloponnesian  war.  He  was,  therefore,  about  seven 
rears  older  than  Plato.  Theodorus  had  two  other  sons,  Tele- 
sippus  and  Diomnestus,  and  a  daughter.      His  father's  fortune 


ISOCRATES.  181 

enabled  Isocrates  to  secure  the  ablest  teachers  of  the  age, 
and  he  listened  to  the  lessons  of  Tisias,  Gorgias,  Prodicus,  and 
even  of  Socrates ;  but  the  natural  timidity  of  the  young  man, 
and  some  physical  disadvantages  under  which  he  labored,  pre- 
vented him  from  engaging  personally  in  the  career  of  public 
life,  which  had  such  transcendent  attractions  for  ambitious 
spirits  in  Athens. 

He  accordingly  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  the  theory 
of  eloquence,  and  to  the  training  of  pupils,  by  teaching  and 
writing,  for  the  assembly  and  the  courts.  It  appears  that  his 
patrimony  was  diminished,  like  so  many  other  estates  of  Athe- 
nian citizens,  by  the  calamities  of  the  Peloponnesian  war ;  and 
one  object  which  he  had  in  view  was  to  repair  these  losses  by 
the  income  derived  from  his  business  as  a  teacher  of  rhetoric. 
He  first  opened  a  school  in  Chios,  where  he  had  but  nine  pu- 
pils ;  though  he  is  said  to  have  assisted  in  the  formation  of  a 
republican  constitution  for  that  state,  on  the  model  of  that  of 
Athens.  After  this  unsuccessful  attempt,  he  returned  to  his 
native  city,  where  the  number  of  his  pupils  soon  increased  to 
one  hundred,  and  his  instructions  gained  him  a  large  fortune 
and  an  extraordinary  reputation.  Besides  teaching,  he  was 
employed,  like  many  Greek  rhetoricians,  in  writing  discourses 
for  others,  for  one  of  which  he  is  said  to  have  received  the 
enormous  sum  of  twenty  talents. 

The  wealth  of  Isocrates  exposed  him  to  the  usual  burden- 
some offices  to  which  the  possessors  of  property  at  Athens  were 
liable.  He  served  in  the  expensive  liturgy  of  a  trierarchy, 
B.  C.  352,  with  great  magnificence. 

When  somewhat  advanced  in  life,  he  married  Plathane,  the 
widow  of  Hippias  the  Sophist,  and  adopted  her  youngest  son, 
Aphareus.  Having  spent  many  years  in  the  laborious  profes- 
sion of  a  teacher  of  eloquence,  lie  died  a  voluntary  death  im-  t 
mediately  after  the  disastrous  result  of  the  battle  of  Cbaeroneia, 
B.  C.  388 

"  That  disnonest  victory 
At  Chaeroneia,  fatal  to  liberty, 
Killed  with  report  that  old  man  eloquent  " 


182  C0NSTI1UTI0NS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

The  lilt;  of  Isocrates  extended  over  a  period  that  embraced 
the  most  important  events  in  the  history  of  Athens.  His  youth 
and  early  manhood  were  passed  amidst  the  scenes  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  war.  He  witnessed  the  establishment  of  the  tyranny 
of  the  Thirty,  and  the  triumphant  restoration  of  the  democ- 
racy by  Thrasybulus.  The  romantic  expedition  of  Cyrus  the 
Younger,  and  the  immortal  retreat  of  the  Ten  Thousand,  took 
place  in  the  flower  of  his  age.  The  death  of  his  teacher, 
Socrates,  by  the  atrocious  sentence  of  a  popular  court,  sad- 
dened his  reflecting  mind.  With  patriotic  jealousy  he  watched 
the  progress  of  the  Spartan  arms  in  Asia  under  Agesilaus,  and 
shared  in  the  hopes  and  the  disappointments  of  the  Corinthian 
war.  He  submitted  impatiently  to  the  Spartan  supremacy, 
and  doubtless  witnessed  the  sudden  glory  of  Thebes,  the  bril- 
liant exploits  of  Epaminondas,  and  the  downfall  of  the  ancient 
rival  of  Athens,  without  regret.  When  Philip  became  a  prom- 
inent personage  in  Grecian  politics,  Isocrates  was  one  of  those 
who  looked  to  him  as  the  saviour  of  the  country.  He  felt  that 
Philip  had  the  power,  and  he  gave  him  credit  for  the  disposi- 
tion, to  unite  the  discordant  and  warring  elements  that  dis- 
turbed the  peace  of  the  Grecian  states,  and  to  bend  their  con- 
centrated forces  upon  the  great  enterprise  of  conquering  the 
barbarian  world.  These  hopes  and  this  confidence  were  over- 
thrown by  the  battle  of  Chseroneia,  and  the  aged  teacher 
refused  to  survive  an  event  so  disastrous  to  the  liberties  of 
Greece. 

Thus,  from  the  quiet  scene  of  his  labors  and  studies,  Isocra- 
tes saw  passing  before  him,  with  startling  rapidity  and  dramatic 
effect,  the  shifting  scenes  of  the  Athenian  fortunes.  Perhaps 
these  events  of  more  than  tragic  interest  turned  his  mind  from 
the  sophistic  subtilties  in  the  midst  of  which  he  had  been  edu- 
cated, to  the  serious,  earnest,  and  ethical  views  of  life,  and  of 
eloquence  in  its  influence  upon  life,  which  are  so  profusely 
scattered  through  his  works  ;  for  he  was  the  first  to  apply  the 
art  of  eloquence  to  public  questions  and  the  affairs  of  state.  In 
his  school  were  trained  the  most  eminent  statesmen,  orators, 


ISOCRATES.  183 

*nd  philosophers  of  his  age.  It  was  the  resort  of  persons  dis- 
tinguished for  birth  and  talents  from  every  country  where  the 
civilization  of  Greece  was  known  and  honored.  Even  foreign 
princes  corresponded  with  Isocrates  on  terms  of  equality. 

His  manner  of  composition  was  precise  and  technical.  We 
see  in  it  the  habits  of  the  careful  student,  nicely  adjusting  and 
rounding  off  his  periods;  not  neglecting  the  matter,  yet  over- 
scrupulous in  respect  to  the  manner.  His  Panegyric  Discourse 
is  said  by  some  to  have  been  for  ten  years,  by  others  for  fifteen, 
under  his  hand ;  and  none  can  read  it  without  discerning  the 
traces  of  a  scrupulous  finish,  which  contrasts  strikingly  with  the 
practical  vigor  and  overpowering  vehemence  of  Demosthenes. 
Demosthenes  was  as  careful  as  Isocrates  in  the  preparatory 
labor  which  he  expended  on  his  orations ;  but  the  necessity  of 
addressing  a  living  multitude  forced  him  to  mould  his  speech 
into  those  forms  of  pointed  cogency,  crystal  clearness,  and  ada- 
mantine strength  which  no  orator  of  modern  times,  perhaps, 
has  approached  so  nearly  as  the  great  American  Senator  whose 
statue  now  guards  the  portals  of  our  State-House.  Isocrates, 
on  the  other  hand,  intent  upon  the  rhythm  of  his  sentences  and 
the  balancing  antithesis  of  his  clauses,  sometimes  draws  out  his 
constructions  to  such  a  length,  that  it  would  have  been  equally 
difficult  for  the  speaker  to  deliver  them  without  breaking  down, 
and  for  an  audience  to  hear  them  without  losing  part  of  the 
sense.  Nowhere  is  the  difference  between  the  practical  states- 
man and  orator  and  the  philosophical  rhetorician  more  instruc- 
tively exhibited. 

But  the  language  of  Isocrates  is  the  purest  Attic ;  and  his 
composition  is  an  exquisite  specimen  of  the  artificial  and  elabo- 
rate type.  "  His  diction,"  says  Dionysius,  "  is  no  less  pure 
than  that  of  Lysias,  and  it  employs  no  word  carelessly ;  .  .  . 
it  avoids  the  bad  taste  of  antiquated  and  far-fetched  phrases." 
However  unsuited  to  public  delivery,  to  the  reader  it  is  clear, 
elegant,  and  delightful.  It  is  select,  carefully  framed,  polished 
to  a  high  degree,  and,  though  at  times  richly  ornamented,  it  is 
also  at  times  beautifully  simple  ;  but  it  is  rarely  concise  and 


184  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

forcible.  His  merits  were  discerned  by  tbe  principal  critics  of 
ancient  times.  The  most  formal  examination  of  them  is  that 
by  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  to  which  may  be  added  the  ob- 
servations in  the  sketch  of  his  life  and  character  by  Plutarch. 
Cicero,  Quintilian,  Lucian,  Pausanias,  ^Elian,  Philostratus, 
Photius,  Suidas,  and  even  Eustathius,  have  touched  upon  his 
works  with  more  or  less  minuteness.  His  moral  sentiments 
are  generally  elevated,  and,  however  mistaken  he  may  have 
been  in  some  of  his  opinions,  the  patriotic  spirit  of  his  writings 
is  unquestionable. 

Sixty  orations  were  formerly  extant  that  bore  the  name  of 
Isocrates ;  but  only  twenty-eight  of  them  were  recognized  as 
genuine  by  Caecilius,  a  critic  in  the  age  of  Augustus.  Twenty- 
one  have  been  preserved.  Besides  these,  we  have  the  titles 
and  some  fragments  of  twenty-seven  more.  There  are  also  ten 
letters,  written  to  his  friends  on  political  subjects,  one  of  which, 
the  tenth,  is  pronounced  spurious.  The  title  and  a  few  frag- 
ments of  a  Theory  of  Eloquence  (Te^yq  'P^to/mac?])  have  been 
preserved. 

The  twenty-one  orations  now  extant  may  be  thus  classi- 
fied:— 

1.  Three  Paraenetic  Orations,  or  discourses  written  for  the 
purpose  of  giving  advice,  resembling  moral  epistles.  They  are 
addressed,  one  to  Demonicus,  and  two  to  Nicocles,  the  son  of 
Evagoras,  king  of  Cyprus. 

2.  Five  Deliberative  Orations  QavfAftovXevTiicot,*)  :  the  Pane- 
gyricus,  those  addressed  to  Philip  and  to  Archidamus,  the 
Areopagiticus,  and  that  on  the  Peace. 

3.  Four  Encomia:  on  Evagoras,  Helen,  Busiris,  and  the 
Panathenaicus. 

4.  Eight  Judicial  Discourses :  the  Plataicus  ;  on  Exchange 
•>f  Estates;  a  pleading  for  the  son  of  Alcibiades ;  the  Trape- 
7'ticus,.  against  Pasio  the  banker,  on  a  question  of  deposit ; 
the  Paragraphias  ;  the  ^Egineticus  ;  against  Lochites  ;  and 
the  Defence  of  Nicias. 

5.  A  discourse  against  the  Sophists. 


ISOCRATES.  185 

These  are  all  of  great  interest,  as  illustrating  the  age  of  Isoc- 
rates  and  his  personal  character.  A  few  extracts  from  two  or 
three  of  them,  touching  upon  the  latter  point,  may  be  allowed, 
to  complete  my  biographical  notice  of  the  rhetorician. 

In  the  Oration  to  Philip  he  says :  "  I  was  by  nature  the 
least  fitted  of  all  the  citizens  to  take  part  in  public  affairs ;  for 
I  had  not  sufficient  power  of  voice  nor  boldness  enough  to  en- 
counter a  multitude,  and  to  wrangle  with  the  orators  storming 
from  the  bema.  But  I  claim  the  honor  of  intellectual  ability 
and  of  a  liberal  education  ;  wherefore  I  take  it  upon  myself  to 
advise,  in  the  way  that  suits  my  nature  and  my  talent,  the 
city,  and  the  other  Greeks,  and  the  most  illustrious  men.'' 

In  the  Panathenaicus  he  says :  "  I  have  had  my  share  of 
the  greatest  blessings  that  all  men  would  pray  to  receive.  In 
the  first  place,  I  have  had  health  of  body  and  of  mind  in  no 
common  measure,  but  to  such  a  degree  as  to  rival  those  who 
have  been  most  fortunate  in  each  of  these  respects.  In  the 
next  place,  I  have  had  an  affluence  of  the  means  of  living,  so 
as  never  to  be  deprived  of  any  reasonable  gratification  that  a 
man  of  sense  would  desire.  Then  I  have  never  been  over- 
lo<  ked  or  neglected,  but  have  always  ranked  among  those  of 
whom  the  most  accomplished  Greeks  thought  and  spoke  as 
persons  of  character  and  influence.  All  these  blessings  have 
been  mine,  some  superabundantly,  others  sufficiently."  He 
then  proceeds  to  point  out  circumstances  in  his  lot  which  make 
him  sometimes  querulous  and  peevish. 

Near  the  beginning  of  the  oration  he  states  that,  when  he 
began  it,  he  was  ninety -four  years  old  ;  and  towards  the  close 
he  says  that,  when  the  composition  was  about  half  done,  he 
was  seized  with  a  violent  illness,  which  he  "passed  three  years 
in  combating";  that  he  was  then  persuaded  by  the  urgency 
of  friends,  to  whom  he  had  read  portions  of  it,  to  attempt 
its  completion.  He  resumed  the  work,  as  he  says,  when  he 
wanted  but  three  years  of  a  hundred,  and  in  such  a  state  of 
health  as  would  have  pr  nented  any  one  else  not  only  from 
attempting  to  write  a  discourse,  but  even  from  listening  will- 
ingly to  the  discourse  of  another. 


186  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

The  oration  on  the  Antidosis,  or  Exchange  of  Estates,  con- 
tains valuable  personal  notices.  The  antidosis  was  a  technical 
proceeding,  by  which  the  Attic  law  allowed  a  person  on  whom 
a  costly  liturgy  had  been  imposed  to  call  upon  another  citizen, 
whose  estate  he  believed  to  be  greater  than  his  own,  either  to 
assume  the  office  or  to  exchange  estates  with  him.  On  one 
occasion,  a  person,  Lysimachus  probably,  tendered  to  Isocrates 
the  antidosis,  and  he,  as  the  least  evil,  served  the  liturgy,  and 
appears  to  have  done  it  in  a  magnificent  style.  The  discourse 
was  composed  many  years  afterward,  in  the  form  of  a  defence 
in  a  fictitious  trial.  Scholl  commits  an  error  when  he  says 
that  Isocrates  pronounced  it  in  defending  himself  against  Ly- 
simachus. 

He  begins  by  stating  that  he  had  been  exposed  to  many  cal- 
umnies from  the  Sophists,  which  he  had  disregarded ;  but  when 
he  was  far  advanced  in  life,  an  exchange  of  estates  had  been 
tendered  to  him  upon  the  trierarchy ;  and  his  opponent  had 
made  such  statements  with  regard  to  his  wealth,  that  he  was 
compelled  to  take  the  burden  upon  himself.  He  was  then  led 
to  reflect  on  the  best  method  of  refuting  these  injurious  misrep- 
resentations, and  of  setting  his  character,  life,  and  pursuits  in 
a  true  light  before  his  contemporaries  and  future  generations. 
'*  Upon  mature  consideration,*'  he  says,  "I  found  I  could  effect 
this  purpose  in  no  other  manner  than  by  writing  a  discourse 
which  should  be,  as  it  were,  an  image  of  my  mind  and  life ;  for 
I  hoped  that  by  this  means  my  character  and  actions  would  be 
best  understood,  and  that  the  discourse  itself  would  remain  a 

much  more  honorable  memorial  than  tablets  of  brass 

With  these  views  I  set  about  the  composition  of  the  present 
discourse,  not  in  the  full  vigor  of  my  powers,  but  at  the  age  of 
eighty-two."  He  says  of  himself:  "  I  have  so  lived  during 
the  time  that  is  past,  that  no  one,  either  in  the  oligarchy  or  the 
democracy,  has  charged  upon  me  any  insolence  or  wrong,  and 
no  arbitrator  or  dicast  has  ever  been  called  to  sit  in  judgment 
upon  my  conduct." 

He  then  describes  himself  as  keeping  aloof  from   politica 


ISOCRATES.  187 

affairs,  from  courts  of  law,  from  assemblies,  from  the  arbitra- 
tors, and  contrasts  his  own  habits  with  those  of  his  enemies, 
who  haunted  every  place  of  public  resort,  and  intermeddled 
with  suits  and  prosecutions  of  every  kind.  He  states  that  he 
has  written,  not  upon  the  common  business  of  man  with  man, 
but  upon  subjects  of  general  importance,  — "  Hellenic,  political, 
and  panegyrical  discourses,"  —  which  rank,  as  works  of  art, 
with  those  compositions  which  are  embellished  with  music  and 
rhythm ;  and  that  many  have  desired  to  become  his  disciples, 
thinking  that  thus  they  might  make  themselves  wiser  and  bet- 
ter men.  He  then  reviews  his  principal  compositions,  giving 
passages  from  the  Panegyricus,  the  discourse  on  Peace,  and 
one  of  the  addresses  to  Nicocles.  "  These,"  says  he,  "having 
been  written  and  published,  I  acquired  great  reputation  and 
received  many  pupils,  not  one  of  whom  would  have  remained 
with  me,  had  they  not  found  me  to  be  such  as  they  had  sup- 
posed. And  now,  when  there  have  been  so  many,  some  of 
whom  have  lived  with  me  three  years,  not  one  will  be  seen  to 
have  found  any  fault  with  me ;  but  at  the  end  of  the  time, 
when  they  were  about  to  sail  home  to  their  parents  and  friends, 
they  were  so  attached  to  their  residence,  that  they  took  their 
departure  with  a  heavy  heart  and  with  tears."  He  then  enu- 
merates his  pupils  and  friends  who  had  received  golden  crowns 
from  the  city  on  account  of  their  public  merits ;  and,  in  fact, 
all  the  important  circumstances  of  his  life  are  so  minutely 
described,  that  the  discourse  answers  the  purpose  he  intended, 
of  conveying  an  image  of  himself  to  posterity. 

The  Panegyricus  I  shall  notice  at  greater  length,  partly  be- 
cause it  is  an  excellent  specimen  of  the  best  manner  of  Isoc- 
rates,  and  partly  because,  by  its  plan,  it  presents  a  review  of 
the  history  of  Athens  from  the  mythical  ages  down  to  the 
period  following  the  treaty  of  Antaleidas. 

The  date  of  the  Panegyricus  has  been  much  discussed,  and 
differently  settled  by  different  scholars.  The  events  alluded 
to  in  the  discourse  itself  furnish  the  means  of  deciding  this 
point  approximately,  but  not  exactly.     The  number  of  yeai* 


188  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

during  which  Isocrates  kept  the  work  in  his  hands  makes  it 
uncertain  whether  these  allusions  to  historical  facts  of  his  time 
have  reference  to  the  moment  of  writing  the  respective  pas- 
sages, or  to  the  time  of  publication.  Setting  this  element  of 
uncertainty  aside  from  the  calculation,  we  may  assume  that 
the  Panegyricus  appeared  about  381  B.  C. ;  since  the  author 
speaks  of  the  Cyprian  war  "  being  already  in  its  sixth  year," 
and  that  began  in  386  B.  C.  Of  course  it  must  have  been 
published  before  the  end  of  the  war,  B.  C.  376,  and  the  death 
of  Evagoras ;  since  there  is  no  hint  in  the  discourse  of  either 
of  these  events.  This  is  the  latest  date.  If  this  be  assumed 
as  correct,  Isocrates  finished  the  oration  at  the  age  of  fifty-five. 
[t  was  published  in  the  time  of  the  Spartan  supremacy — which 
lasted  from  the  peace  of  Antalcidas,  B.  C.  387,  to  the  battle  of 
Leuctra,  B.  C.  371  —  and  about  twenty  years  before  the  name 
of  Philip  of  Macedon  began  to  be  heard  of  in  Greece. 

The  object  of  the  Panegyricus  is  the  vindication  of  the  Athe- 
nian claim  to  supremacy,  and  the  reconciliation  of  the  Greeks, 
particularly  Sparta  and  Athens,  for  the  purpose  of  assailing  the 
Persians  with  their  united  forces. 

After  introductory  remarks  upon  the  nature  of  the  sub- 
ject, —  upon  its  having  been  often  handled  before,  and  the 
orator's  own  ideas  as  to  the  proper  manner  of  treating  it, — 
he  proceeds  to  maintain  the  claims  of  Athens  to  the  suprem- 
acy, on  the  ground  of  the  antiquity  of  the  city,  and  the  purity 
of  the  origin  of  the  Athenians  ;  then,  on  the  score  of  what 
Athens  has  done  towards  adorning,  cultivating,  and  embellish- 
ing life  ;  her  services  in  founding  colonies  ;  her  laws  and  insti- 
tutions ;  her  hospitality,  and  the  liberal  manner  in  which  she 
has  conducted  herself  towards  other  states ;  her  elegant  fes- 
tivities and  shows,  in  which  genius  has  been  cultivated  and 
honored ;  and  her  pursuit  of  literature,  especially  of  eloquence 
and  philosophy. 

He  then  passes  on  to  her  history,  beginning  with  the  mythi- 
cal times,  Adrastus,  the  Heracleidae,  the  wars  with  the  Scythi 
ans.  Thraeians,  Amazons,  Persians.     He  touches  lightly  upor 


ISOCBATES  189 

jhe  Trojan  story,  but  is  especially  emphatic  on  the  wars  with 
Darius  and  Xerxes,  in  which  the  Spartans  and  Athenians 
were  rivals.  The  pre-eminence  of  the  latter  was  acknowl- 
edged then,  and  this  fact  is  an  argument  in  support  of  their 
present  claim  to  the  hegemony. 

In  the  next  place,  he  considers  the  conduct  of  the  Athenians 
in  administering  their  power;  their  leniency,  and  their  care  for 
the  safety  of  their  allies,  as  contrasted  with  the  oppression  and 
cruelty  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  which  have  led  to  great  dis- 
orders and  disasters  among  the  Grecian  states. 

He  then  points  out  the  folly  of  the  Greeks  in  contending 
among  themselves,  when  they  might  gain  such  advantages  by 
uniting  against  the  Persians  ;  describes  the  weakness  of  the 
Persians,  and  the  proofs  and  sources  of  it ;  speaks  of  the  nat- 
ural hostility  of  the  Greeks  against  the  barbarians,  the  reasons 
that  encourage  the  Greeks  to  war,  —  especially  the  favorable 
circumstances  of  the  times  and  the  state  of  Persia,  —  and  the 
necessity  of  a  federal  union  among  the  Greeks,  in  order  to 
compose  their  own  discords. 

Finally,  he  argues  that  the  Greeks  should  set  their  minds 
upon  the  prosperity  they  may  transfer  from  Asia,  and  that  they 
who  have  the  power  should  study  to  reconcile  the  Spartans 
and  the  Athenians.  The  orators  are  exhorted  to  renounce  the 
petty  subjects  which  now  occupy  them,  and  to  expend  their 
rivalries  on  this,  which  is  by  far  the  most  important  interest 
to  which  their  attention  can  be  directed. 

I  think  we  can  hardly  assign  to  Isocrates  the  position  or 
dory  of  a  great  statesman,  or  a  man  of  profound  convictions, 
or  of  very  earnest  character ;  but  his  influence  was  important 
in  a  literary  and  rhetorical  point  of  view,  especially  as  he 
directed  the  studies  of  his  pupils  into  the  channel  of  popular 
speaking,  as  distinguished  from  the  oratory  of  the  courts. 

The  eloquence  of  his  style  was  captivating  to  the  Athenians, 
who  were  always  sensitive  to  beauty  of  form.  In  this  respect 
he  was  undoubtedly  much  superior  to  all  his  predecessors ; 
but   he   was    quite   deficient  in  what  the   ancient  critics  call 


190  CONS  TITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

8eii/oT7/9,  that  union  of  passion  and  vigor,  which  made  Demos- 
thenes the  sovereign  ruler  of  the  bema.  He  wrote  a  few 
speeches  to  be  delivered  by  others ;  but  preferred  to  discuss 
subjects  of  general  interest  to  the  Hellenic  world,  in  a  form 
suited  rather  to  private  reading  than  to  popular  assemblies  or 
the  courts  of  law. 

The  third  and  last  orator  whom  I  have  placed  in  this  period 
i<  Isaeus.  Very  little  is  known  of  his  life,  and  even  as  to  his 
birthplace  there  is  a  question  between  Chalcis  and  Athens. 
His  father's  name  was  Diagoras ;  and  he  flourished  between 
the  Peloponnesian  war  and  the  Macedonian  age.  He  went  to 
Athens  early,  if  not  born  there,  and  there  passed  the  greater 
part  of  his  life  ;  he  studied  under  Lysias  and  Isocrates  ;  wrote 
orations  for  others  to  deliver  in  the  courts ;  and  finally  estab- 
lished a  rhetorical  school,  which  was  resorted  to  by  many  men 
who  afterwards  became  eminent.  But  the  great  glory  of  his 
school,  that  which  makes  it  illustrious  forever,  is  the  memora- 
ble fact  that  here  Demosthenes  received  a  portion  of  his  early 
instruction,  and  hence  derived  the  knowledge  of  some  branches 
of  the  law,  especially  the  law  of  inheritance,  and  the  plain, 
practical  mode  of  dealing  with  practical  subjects  which  wc 
admire  so  much  in  his  earliest  speeches,  namely,  those  which 
he  delivered  in  the  suit  against  his  guardians. 

Of  the  orations  of  Isaeus  only  eleven  have  been  preserved ; 
and  these  are  all  on  questions  arising  out  of  disputed  inherit- 
ance. Their  chief  value  consists  in  the  illustrations  they  afford 
us  of  the  Attic  law  on  this  important  head.  Among  modern 
critics,  Sir  William  Jones  thought  Isaeus  of  sufficient  impor- 
tance to  translate  his  orations  and  to  comment  upon  them. 
That  his  works  were  regarded  by  the  ancients  as  worthy  of 
profound  study  is  shown  by  the  admirable  treatise  of  Dionysius 
of  Halicarnassus,  devoted  to  an  elaborate  comparison  between 
Lysias  and  Isaeus.  This  striking  essay,  which  would  have 
made  in  modern  times  a  capital  article  for  a  quarterly  review, 
abounds  in  elegant  and  acute  criticism,  and  felicitous  compan- 
ions.   The  writer  considers  Isaeus  as  so  far  a  successful  studen! 


LYSIAS   AXD   IS^US   COMPARED  191 

and  imiUtor  of  the  style  of  Lysias  in  many  particulars,  that  a 
superficial  reader  would  not  be  able  easily  to  decide,  between 
the  two,  the  authorship  of  some  of  the  extant  discourses.  But 
with  this  general  resemblance,  he  discriminates  between  them 
thus.  The  style  of  Lysias  is  more  clear,  more  ethical,  that  is, 
expressive  of  character,  more  naturally  composed  and  more 
simply  formed,  more  attractive  and  graceful.  The  style  of 
Isaeus  is  more  artistical  and  accurate  than  that  of  Lysias,  more 
curious  in  its  composition,  and  distinguished  by  a  greater  va- 
riety of  figures.  As  much  as  it  is  inferior  in  grace,  it  is 
superior  in  power  and  in  weight  of  phrase,  and  served  as  a 
model  for  the  forceful  style  of  Demosthenes.  In  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  subject-matter,  Dionysius  also  finds  Isaeus  more 
subtile  than  Lysias,  and  accuses  him  of  sometimes  dealing  un- 
fairly with  his  adversary,  attempting  to  manoeuvre  with  the 
judges,  and  resorting  to  every  means  to  support  the  cause  he 
is  advocating.  In  another  place  the  critic  says :  "  In  reading 
the  narratives  of  Lysias,  one  would  suppose,  not  that  they  were 
artfully  constructed,  but  that  everything  was  told  according  to 
nature  and  truth, — not  reflecting  that  the  highest  excellence  of 
art  is  to  imitate  nature.  In  the  narratives  of  Isaeus,  he  would 
have  the  opposite  feeling,  not  supposing  that  anything  is  told 
spontaneously  and  without  elaboration ;  and  if  anything  chance 
to  be  related  in  an  off-hand  style,  he  would  fancy  that  it  was 
done  with  a  design,  and  for  some  purpose  of  deception.  He 
would  believe  the  one,  even  when  he  told  a  falsehood ;  but 
would  not  listen  to  the  other,  even  when  he  told  the  truth, 
without  suspicion." 

This  is  a  curious  criticism,  a  part  of  which  only  can  be 
founded  on  the  existing  works  of  Isaeus ;  the  rest  must  have 
been  drawn  from  some  of  his  pleadings  which  have  perished. 
There  is  another  illustration  of  the  difference  between  these 
two  orators,  which  has  been  much  admired.  "There  are," 
says  the  ingenious  critic  "certain  ancient  pictures,  very  simple 
in  their  coloring,  and  having  no  variety  in  the  blending  of  the 
Snts ;  but  they  are  exact  in  drawing,  and  have  much  that  is 


192  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

pleasing  in  this  respect.  There  are  others,  more  modern,  less 
accurately  drawn,  but  more  finished  in  the  details,  more  varied 
with  light  and  shade,  and  more  forcible  in  coloring.  Lysias, 
in  simplicity  and  grace,  resembles  the  ancient  pictures ;  Isaeus, 
in  elaboration  and  art,  the  modern."  The  writer  then  pro- 
ceeds to  illustrate  this  difference  by  quoting  the  opening  pas- 
sage of  an  oration  of  each  of  them. 

The  passage  from  Isaeus  belongs  to  a  lost  oration ;  and  as  it 
is  on  a  curious  subject,  illustrative  of  Attic  life,  I  will  read  it. 
It  is  the  commencement  of  an  argument  in  defence  of  Euma- 
thes, a  metic,  or  resident  alien,  who  was  a  banker  at  Athens. 
He  had  been  a  slave,  but  was  emancipated.  The  heir  of  his 
former  master  attempted  to  recover  him  as  a  part  of  the  estate 
of  the  deceased.  He  was  defended  by  a  citizen,  for  whom 
Isaeus  composed  the  argument,  which  is  thus  introduced :  — 
"  Judges,  on  a  former  occasion  I  was  of  no  little  service  to 
Eumathes,  the  defendant,  and  with  justice ;  and  now,  if  it  is 
in  me,  I  shall  endeavor  to  rescue  him  from  ruin  with  your 
help.  I  beg  you  to  hear  me  briefly,  that  no  one  may  suppose  I 
have  engaged  in  the  affairs  of  Eumathes  from  forwardness  or 
from  any  wrong  motive.  In  the  archonship  of  Cephisodorus 
I  was  called  upon  to  serve  in  the  fleet,  and  the  report  came 
home  to  my  friends  that  I  had  fallen  in  a  sea-fight.  I  had  a 
deposit  of  money  with  Eumathes,  the  defendant.  Sending  for 
my  family,  he  disclosed  to  them  the  funds  which  I  had  on  de- 
posit with  him,  and  paid  over  the  whole  amount,  honestly  and 
justly.  For  this  reason,  when  I  returned  in  safety,  I  became 
more  intimate  with  him  than  before,  and  when  he  established 
his  bank,  I  joined  with  others  in  furnishing  him  a  capital. 
Afterwards,  when  he  was  claimed  by  Dionysius,  I  determined 
to  vindicate  his  freedom,  knowing  that  he  had  been  manu- 
mitted in  open  court  by  Epigenes.  But  on  these  points  I  will 
Bay  no  more." 

The  case  in  which  the  critic  quotes  from  an  oration  of 
Lysias  was  in  principle  similar  to  one  that  had  occurred  many 
years  before.     A  man  bearing  the  relation  of  guest  to  a  citizen 


LYSIAS   AND   IS^US   COMPARED.  193 

Df  Athens  was  claimed  as  a  slave,  belonging  to  the  estate  of 
one  Androcleides,  who,  it  was  asserted,  had  given  him  his  free- 
dom. His  Athenian  friend  undertook  his  defence,  and  applied 
to  Lysias  for  a  speech,  stating  to  him  the  facts  of  the  case. 
The  opening,  as  quoted  by  Dionysius,  is  as  follows :  —  "I 
think  it  my  duty,  Judges,  to  speak  to  you  first  of  the  friendship 
subsisting  between  me  and  Pherenicus,  the  defendant,  that  no 
one  may  be  surprised  that  I,  who  never  before  have  spoken  in 
behalf  of  any  of  you,  now  undertake  this  man's  defence.  Ce- 
phisodotus,  his  father,  was  my  friend  and  host ;  and,  Judges, 
when  we  were  at  Thebes  in  exile,  I  was  constantly  made 
welcome  at  his  house,  as  was  every  other  Athenian  who  de- 
sired it.  After  having  received  many  kindnesses  from  him, 
both  in  public  and  in  private,  we  were  restored  to  our  native 
land.  "When,  therefore,  these  men,  falling  into  like  misfor- 
tunes, became  exiles,  and  fled  for  refuge  to  Athens,  feeling 
that  I  owed  them  the  greatest  possible  debt  of  gratitude,  I  re- 
ceived them  into  my  house  on  so  intimate  a  footing  that  no 
visitor  who  was  not  previously  aware  of  the  fact  could  have 
told  to  which  of  us  the  house  belonged.  Pherenicus  knows 
well,  Judges,  that  there  are  in  this  city  many  speakers  abler 
than  I  am,  and  more  experienced  in  such  affairs ;  but  he  be- 
lieves that  my  friendship  is  the  most  to  be  trusted.  It  seems 
to  me,  therefore,  that  it  would  be  shameful,  when  he  implores 
me  to  render  him  the  help  which  he  can  justly  demand,  if 
I  should  allow  him,  without  such  effort  as  I  am  able  to  make, 
to  be  deprived  of  the  boon  of  freedom  he  received  from 
Androcleides." 

Dionysius  compares  these  passages,  sentence  by  sentence, 
and  points  out  their  characteristic  peculiarities  of  phraseology 
with  admirable  precision.  The  substance  of  the  discussion  is, 
that  the  opening  of  Lysias  is  more  easy,  natural,  and  affecting; 
hat  of  Isseus  more  highly  wrought  and  more  artificial.  The 
critic  should,  however,  have  added,  that  the  facts  in  the  two 
cases  are  quite  different.  In  the  one,  the  motive  for  interfer- 
ince  was  a  previous  instance  of  honesty  on  the  part  of  the 

VOL.    II.  13 


194  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

defendant,  in  a  pecuniary  transaction  ;  in  the  other,  it  was  the 
sacred  tie  of  hospitality,  coming  down  from  a  past  generation, 
and  connecting  itself  by  generous  services  with  the  sad  rec- 
ollections of  public  and  private  suffering  and  the  bitterness 
of  exile. 

We  have  now  passed  through  the  periods  of  the  growth  of 
the  Athenian  power;  the  magnificent  exhibition  of  Attic  genius 
in  literature,  philosophy,  and  art ;  the  origin  and  progress  of 
the  arts  of  speech,  applied  to  the  affairs  of  life  as  involved  in 
questions  of  right  and  wrong,  to  be  decided  by  the  united 
judgments  of  impartial  men.  The  eloquence  of  debate  called 
into  active  operation  by  great  public  crises,  national  dangers, 
or  struggling  parties,  had  not  yet  taken  a  literary  form,  or  at 
least  had  not  been  made  a  matter  of  permanent  record.  Great 
questions  were  discussed  from  the  be  ma ;  passionate  appeals 
were  made  to  living  men,  and  responded  to  by  thronging  and 
excited  multitudes ;  all  the  highest  effects  of  popular  eloquence 
had  been  produced  again  and  again  ;  but  the  pen  had  not  pre- 
served them  for  after  ages.  They  were  wrought  out  under 
the  pressure  of  the  moment ;  the  excitement  of  conflict ;  the 
fiery  impulses  of  eager  multitudes  swayed  with  mighty  internal 
forces,  and  kindling  with  tumultuous  sympathy.  The  flashing 
eye,  the  tremulous  nerve,  the  sudden  word  that  opens  the 
floodgate  of  feeling,  the  moment  of  inspiration  carrying  the 
soul  of  the  speaker  out  of  himself  and  compelling  the  souls  of 
his  audience  to  go  with  him  in  his  daring  flight,  —  all  these 
had  been  witnessed  in  the  assemblies  of  the  Pnyx  ;  but  the 
fleeting  exaltation  and  its  effects  had  not  yet  been  arrested  and 
bound  to  the  written  word.  In  the  courts,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  subtilties  of  argument,  the  precision  of  analysis  and  logical 
reasoning,  had,  as  we  have  seen,  long  been  made  the  subject  of 
art,  reduced  to  system,  and  taught  in  the  rhetorical  schools. 
But  as  the  courts  were  numerously  constituted,  topics  of  popu- 
lar appeal  were  wrought  into  the  most  abstruse  discussions,  and 
|iAssionate  utterances  interrupted  the  severest  chain  of  logica. 
deduction.     Here  personal  feeling  often  found  vent,  and  love 


ATHENIAN   ORATORS.  195 

hatred,  and  vengeance  poured  themselves  out  in  the  most 
vehement  expression.  We  find  in  the  written  pleas  of  those 
old  lawyers  all  the  eager  pursuit  of  victory  —  sometimes  re- 
gardless of  means  —  that  shows  itself  in  the  competitions  of  the 
modern  bar.  We  see  all  the  passions  of  advocacy,  in  their 
fullest  vigor,  entering  into  and  possessing  the  pleaders.  It 
is  an  impressive  and  solemn  thing  to  recall  from  the  dead 
silence  of  the  past  these  tones  of  human  feeling  that  died  away 
so  long  ago,  and  yet  speak  to  us  in  the  recorded  page.  Those 
busy  brains,  those  subtile  intellects,  those  hearts  throbbing 
with  the  tender  or  fierce  emotions  of  a  crowded  life,  still 
breathe  in  the  living  present,  still  teach  us  their  lessons  of 
human  strength  and  weakness,  still  appeal  to  us  as  men  of 
like  minds  and  passions  with  themselves. 


LECTURE  XI. 

TRIAL  OF   SOCRATES.  — PLATO'S  REPUBLIC.  —  AGE  OF  PHILIP 
AND  ALEXANDER.  —  LYCURGUS.— ^SCHINES.  —  HYPERIDES. 

The  trial  and  death  of  Socrates,  early  in  'the  period  which 
was  the  subject  of  the  last  Lecture,  showed  the  workings  of  the 
passions  brought  into  play  by  the  Peloponnesian  war,  and  the 
dangers  to  which  the  object  of  momentary  popular  dislike  was 
exposed,  when  he  came  before  an  Athenian  court  on  a  criminal 
charge.  Mr.  Grote  has  examined  this  case  with  his  usual  am- 
plitude of  learning  and  acuteness  of  reasoning ;  and  while  we 
may  not  agree  wholly  with  his  conclusion,  palliating  to  some 
extent  the  atrocity  of  the  verdict,  we  must  admit  that  the  result 
of  the  trial  of  that  great  man  is  not  at  all  inexplicable.  He  had 
often  censured  the  popular  excesses,  and  exposed  the  hollow 
pretensions  of  the  popular  leaders.  Just,  magnanimous,  pure 
beyond  his  age  as  he  was,  and  his  character  more  in  accord- 
ance with  the  Christian  than  the  heathen  type,  his  society 
had  yet  been  sought  by  the  profligate  Alcibiades  and  the  oli- 
garchical Critias.  The  natures  of  both  were  too  far  perverted 
even  for  his  controlling  personal  influence,  except  while  they 
were  in  his  presence.  In  the  Symposium  of  Plato,  Alcibiades 
is  made  to  speak  the  praises  of  Socrates  with  earnest  and  affec- 
tionate eloquence.  He  compares  Socrates  to  those  figures  of 
Silenus,  which  conceal  under  an  unseemly  exterior  the  most 
exquisite  images  of  the  gods. 

Such  was  Socrates  to  those  who  knew  him  best,  in  his  comic 
exterior  and  in  his  grand  and  noble  soul.  He  kept  aloof  fr^m 
politics,  because  he  would  not  bend  himself  to  the  base  com- 
_  liances  by  which  he  saw  the  demagogues  yield  to  the  lowe.^ 


TRIAL   OF   SOCRATES.  197 

and  fiercest  passions  of  the  mob ;  and  he  freely  censured  the 
defective  principles  and  the  corrupting  influences  of  that  de- 
scription of  public  life.  But  he  discharged  the  duties  which 
his  country's  laws  laid  upon  him,  in  war  and  in  peace,  bravely 
and  magnanimously.  He  served  in  the  army,  and  excited  the 
wonder  of  the  common  soldiers  by  his  power  of  hardy  endur- 
ance. He  served  in  the  assembly,  and  with  a  still  braver  spirit 
faced  the  roaring  multitude  who  clamored  unjustly  for  blood. 
After  the  battle  of  Arginusae,  a  complaint  was  made  against 
the  generals,  that  they  had  neglected  to  collect  the  bodies  of 
the  dead  that  were  floating  on  the  stormy  sea.  Such  a  neglect 
touched  the  Hellenic  sentiment  to  the  quick ;  the  friends  of 
the  fallen  called  for  vengeance  ;  and  the  generals  were  brought 
to  trial  before  the  assembled  people.  Though  their  guilt  was 
not  clear,  the  passions  of  the  moment  were  roused  to  fury  and 
demanded  their  sacrifice.  Socrates  happened  to  be  the  pre- 
siding officer  on  that  day;  and  seeing  that  a  judicial  murder 
would  be  perpetrated,  if  the  question  were  decided,  he  re- 
fused, in  spite  of  the  menaces  of  the  mob,  to  put  the  vote. 
The  meeting  was  adjourned  till  the  next  day,  when  a  more 
pliant  president  occupied  the  place,  and  the  generals  were 
yielded  to  the  still  unabated  storm  of  popular  fury. 

His  opposition  to  the  Sophists  was  equally  uncompromising, 
and  probably  excited  a  still  deeper  and  more  dangerous  resent- 
ment against  him.  It  is  true  he  had  been  held  up  by  Aristoph 
anes,  many  years  before,  as  the  chief  of  a  school  of  Sophists, 
and  represented  in  the  most  ludicrous  situations.  He  had, 
however,  regarded  it  as  a  piece  of  amusing  caricature ;  and 
such  was  his  imperturbable  good  humor,  that  he  went  to  the 
theatre  to  see  the  mimic  Socrates,  and  when  the  actor  ap- 
peared, disguised  in  a  portrait-mask,  according  to  the  custom 
of  the  comic  stage,  the  real  Socrates  stood  up  that  the  audience 
might  judge  how  well  the  artist  had  succeeded  in  making  a 
faithful  likeness.  The  subsequent  friendly  intercourse  between 
the  philosopher  and  the  poet  shows  that  he  harbored  no  more 
resentment  against  the  witty  caricaturist  than  Lord  Brougham 


198  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

may  be  supposed  to  feel  against  the  writers  in  Punch,  who  fin 
so  many  years  made  a  standing  joke  of  his  Lordship's  pro- 
tuberant nose. 

I  think  Socrates  must  have  foreseen  that  such  a  course  of 
opposition  as  his  to  the  tendencies  and  passions  of  his  times  — 
especially  in  a  period  so  revolutionary  and  dangerous  —  would 
sooner  or  later  bring  him  into  personal  peril.  When,  there- 
fore, the  blow  was  struck,  —  four  years  after  the  tyranny 
of  the  Thirty,  before  the  passions  of  that  bloody  period  had 
cooled  down  or  the  wounds  they  inflicted  had  had  time  to 
heal,  while  its  bitter  memories  were  still  fresh, —  it  caused  him 
no  surprise,  nor  did  it  for  a  moment  ruffle  the  serenity  of  his 
spirit.  He  was  prosecuted  before  the  Heliastic  court,  on  the 
charge  of  impiety  and  of  corrupting  the  youth.  He  refused  to 
resort  to  the  common  arts  of  defence,  and  declined  to  make  use 
of  an  elaborate  speech  prepared  for  him  by  Lysias,  as  being 
unsuited  to  his  character ;  but  he  answered  his  accusers  point 
by  point,  with  calmness  and  ability,  and  with  the  unshaken 
spirit  of  one  conscious  of  innocence  and  fearless  of  death. 

Here  I  must  explain  one  of  the  peculiarities  in  the  admip.s- 
tration  of  the  laws  of  Athens.  Besides  many  other  distinctions 
and  classifications,  there  was  a  general  division  of  criminal 
causes  into  two  classes,  called  aya>ve<s  TifjLrjroi  and  ayayves 
aTi/j,7)roi,  that  is,  causes  to  be  estimated  and  causes  not  to  be 
estimated  by  the  court.  The  latter  class  embraced  those  cases 
in  which  the  law  fixed  the  penalty,  and  the  only  point  to  be 
decided  was  the  question  of  guilt  or  innocence.  In  the  former 
class,  the  dicasts  had  first  to  decide  this  question ;  and  if  they 
brought  in  a  verdict  of  guilty,  there  remained  for  them  the 
still  further  question  of  the  kind  of  penalty  and  its  extent.  It 
was  to  this  class  that  the  case  of  Socrates  belonged.  It  will 
be  remembered  that  a  Heliastic  court  consisted  of  at  least  five 
hundred  dicasts,  and  sometimes  many  more,  presided  over  by  a 
magistrate  who  exercised  none  of  the  functions  of  a  judge. 
The  question  of  guilt  or  innocence  was  decided  by  vote,  and  a 
majority  of  votes  was  conclusive.      This  was  a  simple  matter  • 


TBIAL   OF   SOCRATES.  199 

out  when  a  major  vote  had  been  declared  against  the  prisoner, 
now  in  the  cases  to  be  estimated  by  the  court  could  a  body  of 
five  hundred  or  a  thousand  men  ever  come  to  an  agreement  ? 
If  such  agreement  is  often  found  difficult  to  be  attained,  as  it 
is,  with  us,  where  only  twelve  men  have  to  decide,  how  could 
it  be  supposed  that  so  numerous  a  jury  would  ever  come  to  a 
determination?  It  was  obviously  impossible.  The  Attic  law, 
therefore,  required  the  prosecutor  to  affix  his  own  estimate  of 
the  penalty  which  in  his  opinion  ought  to  be  exacted,  if  the 
prisoner  should  be  found  guilty  ;  the  prisoner  also,  if  found 
guilty,  was  required  to  fix  his  estimate  of  the  penalty ;  the  jury 
decided  between  these  two  estimates,  and  this  again  was  settled 
by  the  vote  of  a  majority. 

The  defence  of  Socrates,  as  reported  by  Plato,  is  divided 
into  three  parts.  In  the  first,  he  answers  the  charges  directly, 
alluding  to  misrepresentations  of  his  character  and  ductrines  as 
one  of  the  elements  of  the  case.  Having  finished  this  part  of 
the  defence,  the  dicasts  voted  on  the  preliminary  question. 
The  verdict  or  vote  was  Guilty,  but  by  a  majority  of  only  sixty 
votes  ;  so  that  if  thirty  votes  out  of  the  five  hundred  had  been 
changed,  Socrates  might  have  been  acquitted ;  for  a  tie-vote 
was  counted  in  favor  of  the  prisoner.  The  second  question,  or 
the  estimate,  was  next  to  be  determined.  The  prosecutors  had 
affixed  the  penalty  of  death  to  the  indictment ;  and  Socrates  is 
now  found  guilty.  Had  he  taken  the  usual  course,  or  that 
which  the  desire  to  save  his  life  would  have  dictated,  —  had  he 
proposed  a  long  imprisonment  or  exile,  or  a  heavy  pecuniary 
fine, —  the  smallness  of  the  majority  in  the  preliminary  vote 
affords  a  presumption  that  the  jury  would  have  adopted  his 
estimate  and  spared  his  life.  But  Socrates  thought,  and 
thought  justly,  that,  after  the  services  he  had  rendered  to  the 
cause  of  truth  and  righteousness,  it  hardly  became  him,  a  man 
of  seventy,  to  confess  himself  guilty,  for  the  sake  of  adding  a 
few  short  years  to  his  existence,  shut  out  from  the  light  of 
heaven  and  the  converse  of  men,  or  suffering  the  miseries  of 
exile.     He  had  passed  his  days  in  the  exercise  of  the  highest 


200       CONSTITUTIONS  AND  ORATORS  OF  GREECE. 

virtues ;  and  it  was  not  in  accordance  with  his  conception  of 
true  dignity  of  character  to  stand  up  before  his  countrymen 
and  give  even  a  formal  and  legal  assent  to  the  vote  of  the 
court,  admitting  that  he,  one  of  the  most  pious  of  men,  had 
been  guilty  of  impiety,  and,,  one  of  the  purest  teachers  and  ex- 
amples, had  been  guilty  of  corrupting  the  youth.  When  the 
question  was  put  to  him,  therefore,  he  replied :  "  What  do  I 
deserve  to  suffer  or  to  pay,  because,  neglecting  the  objects 
which  most  men  aim  at  in  life,  —  politics  and  fortune  and 
honors  and  office, —  I  have  striven  to  render  to  each  of  you  the 
greatest  service  by  persuading  you  to  deem  nothing  of  more 
importance  than  the  attainment  of  the  highest  degree  of  intel- 
ligence and  goodness,  and  not  to  think  more  of  the  possessions 
of  the  city  than  of  the  city  itself?  Some  good,  if  I  am  to  fix  the 
estimate  according  to  the  truth  and  my  deservings.  And  wh;.t 
is  a  suitable  reward  for  a  poor  man  to  desire  for  consecrating 
his  time  to  your  instruction  ?  What  is  more  suitable  for  such  a 
man  than  to  be  supported  in  the  Prytaneium  ?  ....  If,  there- 
fore, I  must  render  my  estimate  according  to  the  merits  of 
the  case,  I  propose  for  myself  a  public  support  in  the  Pryta- 
neium  However,  if  I  had  money,  I  should  have  fixed  an 

estimate  of  money,  as  high  as  I  thought  proper  to  pay ;  for  the 
loss  of  money  would  have  been  no  harm.  But  I  have  none, 
—  unless,  perchance,  you  might  be  willing  to  take  a  mina.  I 
might,  perhaps,  pay  a  mina.  I  accordingly  fix  the  estimate  at 
that  sum.  But  Plato  here,  and  Criton,  and  Critobulus,  and 
Apollodorus,  bid  me  offer  thirty  minae,  and  they  will  be  my 
sureties.  Well,  I  adopt  that  estimate ;  and  these  men  will  be 
responsible  as  sureties." 

Now  the  court  are  to  vote  on  the  second  question.  Shall 
they  adopt  the  sentence  of  death,  or  a  fine  of  thirty  minae, 
(^about  five  hundred  dollars)?  The  dicasts,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, have  placed  themselves  in  an  embarrassing  position. 
They  have  pronounced  Socrates  guilty  of  impiety  and  of  cor- 
rupting the  youth.  Socrates  has  not  suggested  exile  or  im- 
prisonment; on  the  contrary,  he  claims,  if  justice  is  to  be  done, 


TRIAL   OF   SOCRATES.  201 

one  of  the  highest  rewards  ever  conferred  on  public  merit, 
and,  merely  to  conform  outwardly  to  the  law,  offers  to  pay 
one  mina,  —  only  on  the  suggestion  of  friends  raising  the  sum 
to  thirty  minse,  with  Plato  and  others  for  security.  Now, 
will  the  dicasts  convict  themselves  of  absurdity  by  accepting 
the  fine,  sparing  the  life  of  their  great  teacher,  and  saving 
themselves  from  ignominy  ?  Better  had  it  been  for  them  to 
stultify  themselves,  better  to  drink  the  hemlock  a  thousand 
times,  than  to  vote  the  fatal  sentence,  —  to  doom  themselves 
to  eternal  ignominy,  and  the  best  and  wisest  citizen  of  Athens 
to  death.  The  illustrious  victim  addresses  a  few  words  oi 
warning  to  his  countrymen :  "  Men  will  reproach  you  for  my 
death.  Had  you  waited  a  little  longer,  it  would  have  come  in 
the  course  of  nature ;  for  you  see  how  far  advanced  in  age  I 
am,  and  how  near  to  death.  Perhaps  you  suppose  that  my  life 
is  lost  by  want  of  skill  in  the  arts  of  speech.  Not  so.  I  have 
failed  through  want  of  skill,  not,  however,  in  speech,  but  in  au- 
dacity and  shamelessness ;  and  because  I  would  not  say  to  you 
such  things  as  you  would  have  liked  best  to  hear,  —  weeping, 
and  lamenting,  and  uttering  things  unworthy  of  myself,  and 
such  as  you  are  accustomed  to  hear  from  others.  I  did  not 
think  it  my  duty  then  to  do  any  mean  thing  to  escape  danger, 
nor  do  I  now  repent  of  having  thus  defended  myself;  I  would 

much  rather  die  with  this  defence  than  live  with  that It 

is  not  difficult  to  escape  from  death  ;  it  is  much  more  difficult 
to  escape  from  wickedness :  for  it  runs  swifter  than  death.  I 
am  old  and  slow,  and  have  been  overtaken  by  the  slower ;  but 
my  accusers  are  strong  and  able,  and  they  have  been  overtaken 
by  the  swifter, —  wickedness.  I  retire  under  sentence  of  death  ; 
they  under  sentence,  from  the  truth,  of  wickedness  and  injus- 
tice. I  abide  by  my  penalty, —  they  must  abide  by  theirs."  In 
this  lofty  tone  of  conscious  innocence  he  discoursed  to  his  mur- 
derers, as  if  he  wer°  sentencing  them,  not  they  him.  Then, 
saying  a  few  kind  words  to  those  who  had  voted  for  his  ac 
quittal,  he  argued  that  probably  this  sentence  would  result  in 
good.     To  die  is  one  of  two  things.     Either  the  dead  have 


202  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE 

no  perception  of  anything,  or  death  is  the  migration  of  the 
soul  to  another  place.  If  there  is  no  consciousness,  but  death 
is  like  a  dreamless  sleep,  then  must  it  be  a  wondrous  gain. 
But  if  to  die  is  to  migrate  to  another  place,  and  the  tale  is 
true  that  all  who  have  died  are  there,  how  transcending  must 
be  the  happiness  of  conversing  with  the  great  and  good  of  past 
ages,  —  with  Orpheus,  Musseus,  Hesiod,  Homer,  and  others ! 
And  at  the  conclusion  he  says,  impressively  :  "  But  it  is  now 
time  to  depart,  —  I,  to  die,  and  you,  to  live,  —  which  to  a 
better  issue  is  unknown  to  all,  save  to  God." 

The  noble  manner  in  which  he  spent  the  intervening  time, 
his  magnanimous  refusal  to  seize  the  opportunity  of  escape 
procured  for  him  by  his  friends,  his  great  argument  on  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul  in  conversation  with  his  disciples  on  the 
last  day  of  his  life,  and  the  tranquil,  saintly  spirit  in  which  he 
took  the  fatal  potion  and  lay  down  to  die,  —  things  that  make 
the  little  chamber  in  the  rock  at  Athens  a  holy  spot,  —  these 
belong  to  the  history  of  Socrates,  and  not  to  the  subject  I  have 
now  undertaken. 

On  examining  this  case,  I  think  it  will  be  pretty  obvious 
that,  with  an  independent  judge  to  explain  the  law  and  sift  the 
evidence,  and  a  jury  of  twelve  men  to  render  a  unanimous 
verdict,  —  even  in  those  days  of  excitement  and  still  lingering 
terror,  —  Socrates  would  have  been  unanimously  acquitted ; 
but  I  do  not  think  it  certain  that  among  us  even  so  good  a 
man  as  Socrates  —  if  he  had  been  long  exposed  to  the  malig- 
nant slanders  of  enemies,  if  he  had  censured  the  demagogues, 
thwarted  the  popular  passions,  stood  in  the  way  of  men  am- 
bitious to  rule  the  multitude,  and  exposed  the  sophists  and  im- 
postors to  ridicule  and  contempt  —  would  have  escaped  with 
his  life,  in  case  he  had  been  brought  to  trial  on  a  vague  accusa- 
tion, before  five  hundred  jurors  drawn  by  lot  from  the  citizens 
among  whom  all  these  offences  were  committed,  with  only  a 
presiding  officer  to  regulate  the  proceedings,  his  fate  to  be 
decided  by  the  vote  of  a  majority. 

As  this  case  illustrates  the  defects  in  the  Athenian  process* 


PLATO'S   REPUBLIC  203 

rf  trial,  and  is  part  of  the  history  of  the  times,  I  have  thought 
that  a  rapid  sketch  of  its  leading  points  belonged  properly  to 
the  treatment  of  the  Constitution  of  Athens. 

To  the  same  period  belongs  also  the  completion,  if  not  the 
first  conception,  of  Plato's  Republic.  I  have  already  spoken  of 
this  work  of  the  great  philosopher,  in  connection  with,  the 
general  subject  of  Grecian  opinions  on  slavery.  The  revolu- 
tions in  Athenian  politics,  during  the  youth  of  Plato,  no  doubt 
impressed  him  with  a  dread  of  unbridled  democratic  rule,  and 
gave  him  that  bias  towards  the  principles  of  the  Spartan  Con- 
stitution which  he  shared  with  other  eminent  Athenians.  The 
death  of  Socrates,  under  the  circumstances  I  have  recapitu- 
lated, doubtless  deepened  the  impression,  so  that,  when  he 
came  to  write  out  his  own  conceptions  of  the  best  possible 
republic,  his  near  observation  and  experience  of  democracy 
naturally  enough  excluded  it  wholly  as  an  element  in  the 
regenerated  state.  I  mentioned  his  division  of  classes  ac- 
cording to  the  faculties  of  the  soul,  taking  the  individual  man 
as  the  type  of  the  commonwealth.  This  would  answer  very 
well,  if  any  class  of  men  were  all  intellect,  any  other  class 
all  passion,  any  other  class  all  bodily  strength.  But  as  every 
man  has  all  these  constituent  elements  of  humanity,  while  only 
the  proportions  vary,  it  would  prove  logically  absurd  and  prac- 
tically impossible  to  organize  a  state  upon  any  theory  of  this 
kind.  But  the  most  objectionable  and  monstrous  part  of  the 
scheme  is  the  utter  abolition  of  the  family  tie  and  the  education 
jf  all  the  children  as  children  of  the  state.  The  most  radical 
socialism  of  modern  times  hardly  goes  farther,  —  nay,  most  of 
the  extravagances  of  modern  reformers  may  be  traced  (in  their 
germ  at  least)  in  this  famous  work.  There  are  many  noble 
suggestions  on  education,  admirable  moral  reflections,  profound 
observations  on  the  nature  of  man,  and  criticisms  on  political 
institutions ;  but  the  Republic,  as  the  representation  of  a  pos- 
sible state,  is  infinitely  absurd  ;  and  when  we  regard  it  as  the 
picture  of  a  happy  state,  —  of  a  state  wherein  a  human  being 
could  possibly  enjoy  i  fair  share  of  rational  contentment,  to 


204  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

say  nothing  of  the  delights  of  intellectual  culture,  —  the  only 
wonder  is  that  a  man  of  Plato's  "  large  discourse,  looking  be- 
fore and  after,"  could  have  brought  himself  even  to  conceive 
of  it.  I  wish  we  could  reject  it  from  his  works ;  but  the 
searching  criticism  of  it  in  Aristotle's  Polity,  while  it  shows 
the  superior  practical  sense  of  the  Stageirite  on  this  class  of 
subjects,  unfortunately  proves  it  to  be  without  doubt  the 
work  of  the  illustrious  master  of  the  Academy. 

Macedonia,  on  the  North,  was  now  rising  into  influence.  In 
the  hands  of  ambitious  men,  she  was  ceasing  to  be  the  bar- 
barous power  the  Southern  Greeks  had  hitherto  considered 
her.  The  body  of  the  Macedonian  people  were  not  Greeks ; 
they  were  an  assemblage  of  half-savage  tribes,  with  a  few  aris- 
tocratic families,  which  claimed  to  be  of  Hellenic  descent,  and 
at  length,  forcing  a  recognition  of  this  claim,  were  admitted  to 
the  Olympic  games  and  other  festivals  of  Pan-Hellenic  char- 
acter. Perdiccas  was  the  founder  of  the  monarchy.  It  made 
no  figure  until  the  reign  of  Archelaus  (B.  C.  413),  who  did 
much  towards  improving  the  condition  of  his  country  by  build- 
ing roads  and  introducing  a  taste  for  letters  and  art.  He  em- 
ployed Zeuxis  to  adorn  his  palace  at  Pella ;  and  invited  Aga- 
thon  and  Euripides  to  his  court.  The  latter  died  and  was  buried 
there.  Archelaus  was  the  cousin  of  Amyntas  II.,  the  father 
of  Philip,  who,  as  has  been  already  mentioned,  resided  in  his 
youth  for  some  time  at  Thebes  as  a  hostage.  There  he  had  the 
best  opportunities  to  learn  the  condition  of  Greece,  exhausted 
by  so  many  years  of  war  and  divided  by  such  contrariety  of 
political  sentiments  and  wishes.  He  became  acquainted  with 
the  military  improvements  introduced  by  Epaminondas  ;  and  it 
is  said  that  he  acquired  some  knowledge  of  Greek  philosophy 
by  a  personal  acquaintance  with  Plato.  At  all  events,  he  seems 
to  have  gained  an  exact  cognizance  of  the  condition  of  Greece, 
and  to  have  seen  what  a  tempting  career  was  opened  to  an  un- 
scrupulous prince,  with  abundant  pecuniary  means  and  military 
resources,  to  aggrandize  himself  and  his  country.  At  the  age 
of  twenty-three  he  became   king  of  Macedonia,   B.  C.   359 


AGE   OF   PHILIP   AND    ALEXANDER.  205 

He  was  almost  exactly  of  the  same  age  with  Demosthenes, 
who  at  this  moment  was  preparing  himself,  by  assiduous  study, 
for  the  struggle  which  he  did  not  yet  foresee.  Having  estab- 
lished his  power,  he  began  to  extend  his  dominions,  and  per- 
haps, even  at  the  beginning  of  his  reign,  had  already  conceived 
the  plan  of  reducing  all  Greece  under  his  sway,  and  then  lead- 
ing a  Pan-Hellenic  army  against  the  ancient  empire  of  Persia, 
The  execution  of  his  schemes  first  brought  him  into  conflict 
with  the  Athenians,  who  had  formerly  held  valuable  colonial 
possessions  on  the  Chalcidic  peninsula,  east  of  his  hereditary 
dominions.  Amphipolis  and  Potidaea  fell  successively  before 
his  arms  or  his  intrigues.  The  war  of  Athens  with  her  allies, 
—  called  the  Social  War,  —  which  occurred  in  358  B.  C,  ab- 
sorbed the  resources  of  Athens  and  the  energies  of  her  gener- 
als, Chares,  Chabrias,  Timotheus,  Iphicrates,  and  others,  and 
helped  to  facilitate  the  progress  of  Philip  to  universal  suprem- 
acy. Still  more,  the  Sacred  War  between  Thebes  and  Phocis, 
commencing  in  the  following  year,  soon  gave  the  wily  prince 
an  opportunity  to  interfere  in  the  affairs  of  central  Greece. 
In  350  B.  C,  Olynthus  applied  to  Athens  for  aid.  Some  of 
the  Athenian  statesmen  —  among  whom  Demosthenes  was 
rapidly  rising  to  the  first  place  —  had  already  begun  to  suspect 
Philip's  designs,  and  to  set  themselves  in  opposition  to  him ; 
and  strenuous  efforts  were  made  to  sustain  the  Olynthians  in 
the  unequal  struggle.  After  three  years  Olynthus  fell,  and 
the  whole  Chalcidic  peninsula  lay  at  the  mercy  of  Philip. 
The  Sacred  War  ended  in  346  B.  C. ;  Philip  gained  the  seat 
in  the  Amphictyonic  Assembly  forfeited  by  the  defeated  Pho- 
cians  ;  and  the  peace  of  Philocrates  —  inconsequence  of  over- 
tures made  to  Athens  by  Philip — gave  him  an  opportunity  of 
intriguing  at  his  leisure  with  the  states  of  the  Peloponnesus. 
He  found  Demosthenes  constantly  in  his  way.  A  few  years 
later,  B.  C.  342,  he  began  to  menace  the  Athenian  settlements 
in  the  Chersonesus,  and  thence  he  pushed  his  hostile  expedi- 
tions still  farther  north.  A  state  of  tnings  that  could  be 
termed  neither  war  t.jv  peace  —  a  constant  series  of  encroach- 


206  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

ments  on  the  part  of  Philip,  of  remonstrances  on  the  part  of 
the  Athenians,  with  vehement  appeals  from  the  patriotic  ora- 
tors —  marked  the  following  three  years. 

In  389  B.  C.  the  Amphissian  war,  caused  by  some  encroach- 
ments of  the  Amphissian  Locrians  upon  the  sacred  lands  of  the 
Delphian  oracle,  broke  out.  ./Eschines,  even  according  to  his 
own  account,  was  deeply  implicated  in  this  most  insane  proceed- 
ing. It  led,  in  the  following  year,  to  the  appointment  of  Philip 
as  commander  of  the  Amphictyonic  forces,  and  thus  gave 
him  the  best  possible  opportunity  to  dictate  his  own  wishes,  in 
the  supreme  affairs  of  Greece,  at  the  head  of  a  resistless  army. 
Through  the  energy  of  Demosthenes,  a  league  against  him  was 
concluded  between  Athens  and  Thebes,  and  the  confederated 
soldiery,  marching  northward,  met  him  on  the  plain  of  Chaero- 
neia.  Their  defeat  and  overthrow  were  disastrous  to  the  inde- 
pendence of  Greece,  and  made  Philip  the  undisputed  master  of 
her  destinies.  He  used  his  power  with  politic  clemency,  as  he 
had  ulterior  designs  to  accomplish,  and  it  was  for  his  interest  to 
bring  the  Greeks  into  a  disposition  to  unite  with  him  in  carry- 
ing his  project  of  Eastern  conquest  into  execution.  In  a  con- 
gress of  the  Grecian  states,  held  at  Corinth,  war  was  declared 
against  Persia,  and  Philip  was  appointed  commander-in-chief. 
He  made  his  preparations ;  but  just  as  he  was  on  the  point  of 
completing  them,  his  assassination  closed  his  reign  of  twenty- 
four  years,  B.  C.  336,  and  for  the  time  broke  up  the  plan  of 
Oriental  conquest. 

Alexander,  now  twenty  years  old,  ascended  the  throne. 
The  Greek  states  made  an  attempt  to  throw  off  the  Macedo- 
nian yoke,  but  to  no  purpose.  An  Amphictyonic  Assembly, 
held  at  Thermopylse,  appointed  him  to  the  place  of  command- 
er-in-chief against  Persia,  left  vacant  by  his  father's  death. 
Before  setting  out,  however,  he  made  an  expedition  among  the 
barbarians  of  the  North,  whom  he  rapidly  subdued.  A  report 
of  his  death,  circulated  in  Greece  during  this  absence  in  the 
jieighborhood  of  the  Danube,  caused  another  rising,  for  which 
Thebes  paid  dearly,  when  the  youthful  conqueror,   by  rapid 


AGE   OF   PHILIP   AND   ALEXANDER.  207 

marches,  showed  himself  at  Onchestus,  in  sight  of  the  city,  be- 
fore  the  insurgents  had  learned  that  the  rumor  of  his  death 
was  false.  The  destruction  of  the  rebellious  city,  the  slaughter 
of  six  tnousand  citizens, *the  sale  of  the  survivors  into  slavery, 
and  the  occupation  of  the  Cadmeia  by  a  Macedonian  garrison, 
struck  terror  through  all  Greece,  and  taught  them  what  a 
master  they  might  expect  in  this  young  but  unrelenting 
despot.  Having  regulated  the  affairs  of  Greece,  Alexander 
commenced  his  Eastern  expedition  in  the  spring  of  334  B.  C, 
leaving  Antipater  as  regent  of  Macedonia.  I  need  not  trace 
the  career  of  Alexander  even  in  outline,  because,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  excitement  caused  by  the  arrival  at  Athens 
(B.  C.  325)  of  Harpalus,  whom  he  had  made  satrap  of  Baby- 
lon, none  of  the  events  connected  with  it  bear  upon  my  subject. 
Alexander  died  in  Babylon  of  a  drunken  excess  in  the  summer 
of  323  B.  C. 

The  news  of  this  event  animated  the  anti-Macedonian 
party  to  make  artother  effort  for  the  liberties  of  Greece.  Ath- 
ens, under  the  guidance  of  Hyperides,  who  was  joined  by 
Demosthenes,  though  in  exile,  took  the  lead  in  the  patriotic 
movement.  The  most  animated  appeals  were  made  to  the 
other  states  ;  and  a  formidable  force  was  assembled  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Thermopylae.  Antipater,  marching  from 
Macedonia,  threw  himself  into  the  strong  hold  of  Lamia. 
Leosthenes,  the  brave  commander  of  the  Athenian  forces,  laid 
elose  siege  to  the  fortress,  and  Antipater  was  forced  to  sue  for 
peace.  The  Athenians  refused  any  terms  short  of  uncondi- 
tional surrender ;  and  indeed  they  had  every  reason  to  hope 
for  a  complete  victory  in  a  few  days.  But  unfortunately 
Leosthenes,  their  general,  was  wounded  by  a  missile  from  the 
wall,  and  died  on  the  second  day.  Macedonian  forces  began  to 
arrive  in  support  of  Antipater,  and  Antiphilus,  the  successor  of 
Leosthenes,  marching  to  meet  them,  was  completely  defeated 
in  the  battle  of  Crannon  in  Thessaly,  B.  C.  322. 

The  scales  were  now  turned,  and  the  allies  were  compelled 
o  sue  for  peace.    Antipater  craftily  refused  to  treat  except  witb 


208  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   01    GREECE. 

the  single  states.  The  result  of  this  policy  was  that  they  sub- 
mitted, one  after  another ;  and  Athens,  who  had  been  the 
author  and  leader  in  the  movement,  lay  defenceless  at  the  feet 
of  the  conqueror.  She  was  spared  under  rigorous  conditions. 
The  Athenians  were  required  to  deliver  up  their  principal 
orators,  including  Hyperides  and  Demosthenes ;  the  political 
franchise  was  limited  by  a  property  qualification  ;  a  Mace- 
donian garrison  was  to  be  received  into  Munychia ;  and  the 
expenses  of  the  war  were  to  be  paid.  The  tragic  scenes  that 
immediately  followed  the  Lamian  war  fill  the  saddest  chapter 
in  the  history  of  Greece,  and  close  the  independent  existence 
of  the  most  illustrious  of  cities. 

This  rapid  sketch  will  serve  to  bring  the  parties  to  the  last 
conflicts  in  arms  and  eloquence  into  each  other's  presence. 
On  the  one  side  we  have  a  despotic  power,  in  the  vigor  of  its 
early  youth,  governed  by  an  accomplished  and  crafty  prince, 
who  is  perfectly  familiar  with  all  the  weak  points  in  the  con- 
dition of  his  adversary  ;  on  the  other,  the  states  of  Greece,  ex- 
hausted by  the  Peloponnesian  war  and  the  incessant  struggles 
with  one  another  that  followed  it.  And  this  was  not  the  only 
source  of  weakness.  Each  state  was  at  discord  within  itself, 
rent  by  internal  factions,  thus  exposing  its  dearest  interests  an 
easy  prey  to  any  foreign  foe  who  had  the  skill  to  intrigue  or 
the  money  to  bribe.  Philip  had  both ;  and  he  had  no  scruple 
in  using  them  for  the  corruption  of  the  needy  politicians  and 
base  adventurers  with  whom  the  states  swarmed.  The  pa- 
triots at  Athens  —  for  Athens  was  always  the  mainspring  of 
every  movement  for  the  glory  and  honor  of  Greece  —  had  to 
straggle,  not  only  with  the  wiles,  the  money,  and  the  arms  of 
Philip,  but  with  the  traitorous  opposition  of  a  strong  party  in 
the  Macedonian  pay  at  home. 

As  Athens  was  the  leading  spirit  in  Greece,  so  Demosthenes 
was  the  leading  spirit  of  the  patriotic  party  at  Athens.  He 
was  the  soul  and  centre  of  that  remarkable  group  of  states- 
men who  adorned  the  last  days  of  Athenian  independence.  I 
ihall,  therefore,  reserve  him  for  the  conclusion  of  the  present 


LYCURGUS.  209 

course,  and  occupy  the  remainder  of  this  Lecture  with  a  brief 
account  of  some  of  the  most  eminent  of  his  contemporaries. 
These  were  Lycurgus,  born  in  395  B.  C;  .Eschines,  in  389 
B.C.:  and  Hyperides,  about  390  B.  C.  Deinarchus  and  De- 
mades  also  belong  to  this  period  ;  but  neither  in  character  nor 
in  ability  do  they  rank  with  those  I  have  mentioned,  thougli 
both  exercised  an  evil  influence  on  the  fortunes  of  their  un- 
happy country.  Lycurgus  and  Hyperides,  each  a  host,  were 
warm  friends  and  supporters  of  the  anti-Macedonian  policy  of 
Demosthenes;  jEschines  and  Deinarchus  were  his  vehement 
opponents. 

Lycurgus  belonged  to  one  of  the  oldest  and  best  families  of 
Athens,  which  traced  its  origin  back  to  the  national  hero 
Erechtheus.  He  passed  a  virtuous  youth  in  the  appropriate 
studies  of  an  Athenian  gentleman.  He  was  a  hearer  of  the 
lectures  of  Plato,  and  received  instruction  in  rhetoric  from 
Isocrates.  He  served  as  ambassador,  with  Demosthenes  and 
Polyeuctus,  in  Peloponnesus,  B.  C.  343.  His  name  is  impor- 
tant in  the  history  of  Greek  dramatic  literature,  from  the  fact 
that  he  caused  a  law  to  be  enacted  that  authenticated  copies  of 
the  tragedies  of  ./Eschylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides  should  be 
deposited  in  the  public  archives,  and  that  the  actors  should 
follow  this  text  in  their  representations.  Ptolemy  Euergetes 
borrowed  these  copies  on  a  pledge  of  fifteen  talents,  and,  for- 
feiting the  money,  added  the  scrolls  to  the  literary  treasures 
of  Egypt.  The  same  law  decreed  the  erection  of  bronze  stat- 
ues of  these  famed  poets,  which  were  seen  in  the  great  Di- 
onysiac  Theatre,  five  centuries  afterward,  by  Pausanias  the 
traveller.  They  were  probably  the  originals  from  which  '.he 
marble  statues  and  busts  now  in  the  Vatican  were  copied. 
Another  law  of  his  proposing  is  mentioned,  prohibiting  women 
from  driving  to  the  Eleusinian  festival  in  a  chariot  and  pair, 
nnder  a  penalty  of  six  thousand  drachmae,  or  about  a  thousand 
dollars ;  and  it  is  stated  that.  Callisto,  his  wife,  having  violated 
the  law,  Lycurgus  paid  the  fine. 

The  chief  public  services  of  Lycurgus  were  in  the  depart - 

voi,.   ii.  14 


210  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

ment  of  finance.  He  was  chosen  treasurer  of  the  public  iov 
enue,  —  an  office  which  by  law  could  be  held  only  four  years 
but  he  administered  the  department  with  so  much  integrity  an« 
success,  that  it  was  continued  in  his  hands,  under  the  names 
of  other  persons,  for  two  additional  penteterides,  —  amount- 
ing in  all  to  twelve  years.  At  the  close  of  each  period,  his 
accounts  were  subjected  to  rigid  scrutiny.  He  caused  them  1o 
be  engraved  on  marble  slabs  as  a  perpetual  record,  and  a  part 
of  one  of  them  remains  to  the  present  day.  During  his  ad- 
ministration he  constructed  four  hundred  ships  of  war  and  a 
magazine  for  arms,  finished  the  great  theatre,  and  built  a  gym- 
nasium, a  palaestra,  and  a  stadium.  He  held,  also,  a  magistracy 
connected  with  the  police,  which  he  exercised  with  such  effect, 
says  Plutarch,  that  he  drove  all  the  rascals  out  of  the  city ; 
and  the  orators  used  to  say  that,  when  he  drew  up  warrants, 
he  dipped  his  pen,  not  in  ink,  but  in  death. 

This  eminent  statesman  sometimes  appeared  in  the  courts 
as  a  public  accuser.  He  was  not  a  fluent  speaker,  and  required 
much  preparation,  as  is  quite  evident  in  the  only  speech  of  his 
which  remains  out  of  the  twenty  whose  titles  are  preserved. 
That  speech  was  delivered  on  the  following  occasion.  Imme- 
diately after  the  battle  of  Chseroneia,  when  Philip  was  ex- 
pected to  march  upon  the  city,  an  order  was  passed,  forbidding 
the  citizens  to  quit  Athens  under  penalty  of  death.  Leocrates, 
a  rich  and  distinguished  citizen,  setting  a  pernicious  example 
of  cowardice  and  disobedience,  stole  on  board  a  ship  about  to 
sail  for  Rhodes,  and  fled  to  that  island.  Shortly  afterward  he 
returned  to  Greece  ;  but,  not  daring  to  show  his  face  in  Ath- 
ens, established  himself  in  Megara,  where  he  resided  six  years. 
Probably  supposing  that  by  this  time  his  desertion  of  his 
country  in  her  hour  of  need  had  been  forgotten,  he  ventured 
to  return.  But  the  vigilance  of  Lycurgus  noticed  the  fact, 
.»nd  the  recreant  citizen,  in  spite  of  powerful  friends,  found 
himself  suddenly  prosecuted  on  a  capital  charge,  with  the  in- 
corruptible minister  and  austere  magistrate  for  his  accuser. 
The  speech  is  drawn  up  with  great  care ;  and  the  facts  are 


LYCURGUS.  211 

stated  rith  much  precision,  presenting  a  lively  picture  of  the 
condition  of  Athens  at  tne  time.  The  charge  is  supported 
by  testimony,  from  which  it  appears  that,  on  arriving  at 
Rhodes,  Leocrates  circulated  a  story  that  Athens  had  been 
captured,  and  the  Pirseus  besieged,  so  that  the  Rhodian  corn- 
merchants,  whose  ships  were  all  ready  to  sail  for  Athens,  un- 
loaded their  cargoes  and  gave  up  the  voyage,  to  the  great 
injury  of  the  Athenian  people.  Then  the  facts  pertaining  to 
the  residence  in  Megara  are  narrated.  This  is  followed  by 
the  argument  on  the  facts,  and  a  reply  to  the  defence,  point 
by  point ;  and  the  speech  closes  in  a  strain  of  pathetic  elo- 
quence, which,  coming  from  that  grave  old  man,  —  himself  the 
soul  of  honor  and  the  object  of  profound  reverence  with  the 
people,  who  saw  in  him  the  model  citizen,  his  life  crowded 
with  the  noblest  public  services,  —  could  not  fail  to  produce  the 
strongest  effect  upon  the  verdict  of  an  Athenian  jury.  Some 
of  the  sentences  are  very  forcible,  and  have  impressed  them- 
selves on  the  mind  of  the  world.  "Crimes,"  said  he,  "as 
long  as  they  are  untried,  rest  upon  those  who  have  committed 
them ;  but  after  the  trial  has  taken  place,  they  rest  upon  those 
who  have  not  pursued  them  according  to  justice.  Know  well, 
judges,  that  each  of  you  now  voting  secretly  will  have  to  show 
his  vote  to  the  gods." 

In  one  respect  this  oration  of  the  grave  old  financier  is  quite 
different  from  those  of  other  Attic  orators,  namely,  in  the  ex- 
tent of  poetical  quotations.  They  are  generally  very  sparing  of 
this  kind  of  ornament,  adhering  more  closely  to  the  subject, 
and  the  lines  of  argument  which  it  directly  suggests,  than  is 
the  fashion  with  most  modern  orators ;  but  Lycurgus,  perhaps 
because  the  preparation  of  a  discourse  cost  him  so  much  labor, 
helped  himself  out  with  these  aids,  and  they  are  introduced 
with  a  little  formality,  and  as  if  with  intention  and  premedi- 
tation. His  style  is  clear  and  strong,  expressive  of  his  upright 
and  honest  character.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  more  of  his 
works  have  not  been  preserved.  During  his  life  he  was  often 
nonored  with  crowns  and  statues.     The  privilege  of  dining  in 


212  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

the  Prytaneiuin  was  bestowed  upon  him,  and  made  hereditary. 
After  his  death,  which  took  place  about  327  B.  C,  or  accord- 
ing to  some  in  323,  a  statue  was  decreed  to  him,  to  be  placed 
near  the  Eponymic  heroes  in  the  Agora.  He  was  buried,  with 
public  honors,  on  the  road  to  the  Academy.  Never  for  a  mo- 
ment did  the  popular  opinion  wrong  this  just  and  good  man. 
So  happily  tempered  were  the  virtues  of  his  character  and  the 
powers  of  his  understanding,  that  he  always  did  the  right 
thing  in  the  best  manner ;  and  he  was  never  misunderstood, 
and  never  suffered  at  the  hands  of  his  countrymen. 

The  most  eminent  among  the  opponents  of  Demosthenes 
was  jEschines,  born  in  389  B.  C.  In  each  of  the  three  ora- 
tions of  his  which  are  preserved,  he  is  pitted  against  his  antag- 
onist. Constantly  compared  with  him,  he  is  judged  perhaps  at 
a  disadvantage;  he  is  brought  to  a  test  which  no  man  could 
stand.  Of  his  early  life,  he  has  left  us  an  account.  Demos- 
thenes, too,  gives  us  a  picture  of  it,  and  a  very  different  one,  as 
was  perhaps  to  be  expected.  It  seems  probable  that  his  father, 
Atrometus,  was  one  of  those  whose  fortunes  were  ruined  by 
the  Peloponnesian  war.  In  his  youth  he  assisted  his  father  in 
the  management  of  a  small  school.  At  the  suitable  age  he 
performed  the  military  duties  of  frontier  service,  required  of 
young  citizens.  At  a  later  period  he  was  engaged  in  several 
foreign  expeditions,  and  distinguished  himself  in  several  battles. 
At  Tamynas,  B.  C.  349,  he  exhibited  such  brilliant  courage 
that  Phocion  crowned  him  on  the  field,  and  conferred  on  him 
the  honor  of  bearing  the  news  of  the  victory  to  Athens.  His 
fortunes  were  still  humble,  and  he  supported  himself  for  a  time 
by  assisting  in  the  exercises  of  the  gymnasia.  Then,  as  he  had 
a  clear  and  powerful  voice,  he  went  upon  the  stage  and  tried 
his  powers  in  tragic  acting.  But  his  success  was  not  great. 
He  was  buffeted  by  the  spectators,  and  was  more  than  once 
hissed  off  the  stage.  Demosthenes,  in  retorting  some  of  the 
personalities  with  which  ^Eschines  had  assailed  him,  says  that 
he  was  himself  among  the  hissers.  From  the  theatre  he  passed 
into  one  of  the  public  offices,  and  became  an  infei'ior  clerk  ot 


^SCHINES.  213 

secretary.  This  brought  him  into  connection  with  two  of  the 
leading  politicians,  —  Aristophon  first,  and  afterwards  Eubulus, 
whose  party  he  joined.  In  347  B.  C,  he  was  sent  ambassa- 
dor to  Peloponnesus,  and  addressed  the  Megalopolitans  in  op- 
position to  the  envoys  of  Philip.  In  the  same  year  he  was 
sent  on  the  embassy  to  negotiate  with  Philip ;  and  during  his 
residence  in  Macedonia  he  changed  his  political  views,  as  was 
generally  believed,  under  the  personal  influence  of  Philip  and 
bribed  by  Philip's  gold.  From  this  moment  the  hostility  be- 
tween ./Eschines  and  Demosthenes  was  unceasing  and  bitter. 

In  347  B.  C.  he  delivered  his  speech  against  Timarchus. 
Timarchus  and  Demosthenes  prosecuted  -Eschines  for  miscon- 
duct on  the  embassy.  ^Eschines  turned  upon  Timarchus,  who 
appears  to  have  been  a  man  of  profligate  morals,  and  prose- 
cuted him  under  a  law  which  excluded  from  public  life  per- 
sons who  had  been  guilty  of  certain  vices.  The  oration  is  a 
most  thorough  and  able,  as  well  as  vindictive,  piece  of  personal 
attack,  and  jEschines  gained  his  point  in  diverting  the  prose- 
cution from  himself  for  the  moment.  But  two  years  after- 
ward, B.  C.  343,  Demosthenes  renewed  the  assault,  and 
^Eschines  defended  himself  in  the  masterly  reply,  "  On  the 
Embassy,"  barely  saving  himself  from  condemnation.  This 
event,  of  course,  inflamed  his  enmity  still  more  towards  the 
great  leader  of  the  anti-Macedonian  faction.  He  continued 
to  labor  against  the  patriotic  party  and  in  the  interest  of 
Philip ;  whether  from  corrupt  motives  and  in  the  pay  of  the 
king,  or  because,  like  Phocion,  he  thought  resistance  to  Mace- 
donia useless  and  desperate,  may  perhaps  admit  of  a  doubt. 
The  probability  is,  judging  from  the  looseness  of  his  character 
iu  general,  and  the  temptation  which  Philip  held  out  to  men  in 
his  circumstances,  that,  while  receiving  the  royal  gold,  he  tried 
to  flatter  himself  that  it  was  all  for  the  good  of  his  country. 

In  339  B.  C,  jEschines  was  sent  to  the  Amphictyonic 
Council  at  Delphi,  and  there  made  a  motion  which  led  to  an 
Amphictyonic  war  against  the  Locrians,  and  the  appointment 
of  Philip  to  the  command  of  the  Amphictyonic  forces  in  the 


214  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   UF   GREECE. 

.succttedim*  year.  This  was  followed  by  the  seizure  of  Elateia 
the  alarm  at  Athens,  when  Philip's  real  designs  were  un 
masked;  and  the  disastrous  battle  of  Chaeroneia,  B.  C.  338, 
which  struck  the  blow  most  fatal  to  the  liberty  of  Greece. 
The  spirit  of  party  was  high  and  violent  at  Athens.  Demos- 
thenes, who  had  been  the  soul  of  the  confederacy,  and  had 
fought  in  the  ranks,  on  his  return  to  Athens  was  assailed  by 
every  form  of  legal  annoyance  and  personal  abuse  ;  and  when 
his  political  and  personal  friend,  Ctesiphon,  in  order  to  bring 
the  popular  feeling  to  a  test,  proposed  to  confer  on  Demos- 
thenes a  golden  croWn,  jEschines  instantly  stepped  forward 
and  arrested  the  proceeding  by  impeaching  Ctesiphon  under 
a  process  which  I  shall  explain  in  the  next  Lecture.  The  ora- 
tion which  he  delivered,  when  after  several  years  the  trial  was 
held,  was  the  last  and  the  greatest  effort  of  his  genius.  But  able 
and  eloquent  as  it  was,  the  attack  was  unsuccessful.  iEschines, 
feeling  that  his  career  was  over,  retired  from  Athens,  wandered 
for  a  time  among  the  cities  of  Asia  Minor  as  a  lecturer  on 
rhetoric,  established  a  school  in  Rhodes,  and  finally  removed  to 
Samos,  where  he  died  in  814  B.  C. 

The  circumstances  of  his  life  were  not  very  favorable  to  the 
formation  of  a  lofty  and  patriotic  character.  It  required  more 
firmness  than  he  possessed  to  resist  the  influences  that  sur- 
rounded him,  —  to  bear  the  pressure  of  poverty  with  disdain 
for  the  temptations  of  wealth.  No  man  ever  doubted  the  integ- 
rity of  Phocion,  though  impartial  history  must  pronounce  him 
perverse  and  ill-judging ;  but  ./Eschines,  agreeing  with  him  as 
a  political  partisan,  fell  most  justly  under  the  general  suspicion 
of  having  allowed  himself  to  be  tampered  with  by  Philip  and 
Alexander.  Yet  he  a  was  man  of  undoubted  genius  and  of  un- 
impeached  courage.  In  personal  advantages,  in  robust  health, 
in  strength  and  clearness  of  voice,  in  external  qualifications 
for  the  career  of  an  orator,  he  was  altogether  superior  to 
Demosthenes.  His  style  is  perspicuous,  fluent,  lively,  ane. 
rhythmical ;  but  the  fatal  facility  of  extemporaneous  speaking 
ieprived  it  of  the  compactness  and  nervous  energy  which  dis- 


HYPERIDES.  215 

Anguish  the  style  of  the  master.  What  he  chiefly  wanted 
was  integrity  of  soul  and  devotion  to  his  country,  —  the  great 
sources  of  the  political  eloquence  which  is  to  live  forever  in 
the  hearts  of  men. 

Before  closing,  I  must  say  a  few  words  of  Hyperides,  a 
political  friend,  and,  with  a  single  exception,  an  ardent  sup- 
porter of  Demosthenes.  He  was  some  years  older  than  his 
leader ;  but  the  year  of  his  birth  is  not  known.  He  belonged 
to  a  wealthy  family.  In  his  youth  he  received  the  instructions 
of  Plato  and  Isocrates,  and  in  all  other  customary  ways  had 
the  best  education  Athens  could  give  him.  From  his  own 
resources  he  contributed  munificently  to  the  public  service. 
In  358  B.  C.  he  procured  a  private  subscription  for  forty 
triremes,  in  the  war  against  Philip  in  Euboea.  In  one  year  he 
served  the  trierarchic  liturgy  personally  at  Byzantium,  and 
bore  the  expenses  of  a  chorus  at  Athens.  He  was  sent  on  an 
embassy  to  Rhodes  in  351  B.  C.  In  346  he  prosecuted  Phi- 
locrates,  one  of  the  leading  politicians  in  the  interest  of  Philip. 
When  Philip  seized  Elateia  he  was  ambassador  with  Demos- 
thenes to  Thebes,  and  after  the  battle  of  Chaeroneia  he  pro- 
posed a  decree  to  give  the  rights  of  citizenship  to  resident 
aliens,  to  restore  the  ari/Moi,  or  degraded,  to  their  former  rank, 
and  to  send  the  women,  children,  and  sacred  objects  down  to 
Peiraeus,  preparatory  to  making  a  final  stand  against  Philip. 
When  prosecuted  on  a  paranomon  graphe,  that  is,  an  indict- 
ment for  proposing  illegal  measures,  he  said :  "  The  Macedonian 
arms  darkened  my  vision  ;  it  was  not  I  who  wrote  the  decree, 
but  the  battle  of  Chaeroneia."  He  was  one  of  the  orators  de- 
manded by  Alexander  after  the  capture  of  Thebes.  In  the  af- 
fair of  Harpalus  he  separated  from  Demosthenes,  having  been 
previously  his  fast  friend ;  but  the  ground  of  the  difference  was 
excessive  zeal  in  opposition  to  Macedonia.  Hyperides  urged 
the  Athenians  to  receive  Harpalus,  and  to  employ  his  treasures 
against  the  Macedonians  ;  Demosthenes  thought  this  impru- 
dent, and,  believing  that  it  would  bring  down  on  Athens  the 
irresistible  vengeance  of  Alexander, —  true  patriot  as  he  was,- 


216  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

opposed  it.  In  the  litigations  that  grew  out  of  this  affau 
Hyperides  was  appointed  one  of  the  public  prosecutors  of 
Demosthenes  and  others,  who  were  implicated  in  the  report 
of  the  Areopagus.  He  discharged  his  duty  with  some  degree 
of  vehemence,  and  Demosthenes  was  compelled  to  go  into 
exile.  But  these  illustrious  men  were  found  side  by  side,  after 
the  death  of  Alexander,  in  the  Lamian  war,  and  were  never 
separated  again,  except  by  death.  Hyperides  fled  from  Ath- 
ens after  the  battle  of  Crannon,  and  took  refuge  in  the  temple 
of  JEacus  in  ^Egina,  from  which  he  was  torn  by  Archias,  the 
hunter  of  fugitives,  sent  a  prisoner  to  Antipater,  and  put  to  a 
barbarous  death. 

All  the  ancient  critics  praise  the  acuteness,  subtilty,  and  ele- 
gance of  Hyperides,  and  delight  in  eulogizing  his  suavity,  his 
wit,  his  urbanity,  his  irony,  his  gentlemanly  humor;  but  we 
were  obliged  to  take  their  word  for  it.  Until  1850,  all  that  was 
known  of  the  sixty  or  more  orations  of  which  the  titles  remain 
was  a  few  brief  fragments,  the  largest  of  which  was  a  short 
passage  quoted  by  Stobaeus  from  his  funeral  discourse.  But 
there  have  been  found  among  old  papyri  brought  to  England 
by  Mr.  Harris  and  Mr.  Arden,  first,  a  considerable  portion  of 
the  oration  on  the  case  of  Harpalus  ;  secondly,  nearly  the  whole 
of  a  judicial  plea  for  Lycophron  ;  thirdly,  the  whole  of  a  speech 
for  Euxenippus,  —  all  curious  and  important  in  their  illustra- 
tions of  points  in  Attic  law ;  and  finally,  the  greater  part  of 
the  funeral  oration,  pronounced  in  the  Cerameicus  at  Athens, 
in  honor  of  Leosthenes  and  the  soldiers  who  fell  in  the  Lamian 
war,  —  the  last  act  of  Grecian  independence,  B.  C  322.  This 
oration  was  thought  by  the  ancients  one  of  his  best ;  and, 
wholly  apart  from  the  singular  interest  that  attaches  to  its 
recent  discovery,  it  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  instructive 
documents  of  ancient  literature.  The  topics  are  the  praises  of 
the  city,  of  Leosthenes  the  commander,  and  of  his  fallen  sol- 
diers. He  eulogizes  their  bravery,  and  the  noble  motives  and 
character  of  Leosthenes ;  and  brings  in  very  happy  allusions 
to  Thermopylae,  which  was  in  sight  from  the  walls  of  Lamia. 


HYPERIDES.  217 

I  received  a  copy  of  this  discourse  a  short  time  since ;  and  I 
close  by  reading  a  few  sentences  from  it,  —  the  first  time  they 
have  ever  been  heard  by  a  modern  audience. 

"  Our  city  deserves  to  be  honored  for  having  chosen  a  line 
of  conduct  more  august  and  noble  than  any  of  her  former 
deeds ;  the  soldiers  deserve  our  eulogy  for  their  valor  in  war, 
and  because  they  have  done  no  discredit  to  the  virtues  of  our 
ancestors ;  and  Leosthenes,  the  general,  for  both :  he  was  the 
author  of  the  policy,  and  then  became  the  commander  of  his 
countrymen  in  the  war." 

Speaking  of  the  city,  he  says :  "  For  as  the  sun  passes  over 
the  whole  earth,  dividing  the  hours  in  his  course,  and  clothing 
all  things  with  beauty  —  "  Here  the  envious  hand  of  Time 
has  torn  away  a  piece  from  the  manuscript,  and  the  rest  of  this 
fine  comparison  is  lost. 

In  speaking  of  the  general,  he  says:  "Leosthenes,  seeing  all 
Greece  humiliated,  and  her  ancient  glory  stained  by  those  who 
had  accepted  bribes  from  Philip  and  Alexander  to  the  ruin  of 
their  own  countries,  —  seeing  that  our  city  wanted  a  man,  and 
that  all  Greece  wanted  a  city  that  should  be  able  to  assume  the 
leadership,  —  consecrated  himself  to  the  liberty  of  Athens,  and 
Athens  to  the  liberty  of  the  Greeks." 

Again  :  "  Who  could  not  justly  eulogize  the  citizens  slain  in 
this  war,  who  gave  their  lives  for  the  liberty  of  the  Greeks, 
deeming  it  the  most  conspicuous  proof  of  their  devotion  to  the 
freedom  of  Hellas,  that  they  were  willing  to  die  in  battle  for 
her  defence?  ....  With  Leosthenes,  then,  who  strengthened 
his  countrymen  to  dare  such  deeds  unshrinkingly,  and  bravely 
to  offer  themselves  as  companions  in  arms  to  such  a  general, 
ought  they  not,  on  account  of  such  a  display  of  valor,  to  be 
rather  pronounced  happy,  than  unhappy  in  the  loss  of  life,  — 
they  who  have  won  for  the  mortal  body  immortal  renown,  and 
by  their  personal  valor  established  the  common  liberty  of  the 
Greeks  ?  Their  fathers  have  become  illustrious,  and  their 
mothers  the  objects  of  admiration  to  the  citizens;  their  sisters 
have  been,  and  will   be,   sought    in  distinguished   marriages  ; 


218  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

their  sons  will  find  access  to  the  people's  favor,  by  the  virtue 
of  those  who  have  died,  —  no,  not  died,  —  this  word  does  not 
apply  to  those  who  have  laid  down  their  lives  for  honor,  —  but 
have  exchanged  this  life  for  a  better  post." 

And  finally :  "If  they  have  not  partaken  of  the  old  age  of 
mortality,  they  have  yet  received  a  renown  untouched  by  age, 
and  have  become  happy  in  all  respects.  Of  those  who  have 
died  childless,  the  applauses  of  the  Greeks  shall  be  the  immor- 
tal offspring.  For  those  who  leave  children,  the  country's  grat- 
itude shall  be  their  children's  guardian.  Besides,  if  death  be 
the  same  as  never  to  have  been  born,  they  are  freed  from  sick- 
ness and  sorrow,  and  all  the  other  evils  that  befall  the  life  of 
man.  But  if  there  is  knowledge  in  the  other  world,  and  God's 
care,  as  we  believe,  then  those  who  have  sustained  the  failing 
honors  of  the  gods  will  most  assuredly  enjoy  the  highest  favor 
of  Heaven." 


LECTURE    XII. 

DEMOSTHENES. 

On  the  eastern  side  of  Hymettus  there  lies  a  quiet  and 
beautiful  valley,  still  called  by  its  ancient  name  of  Mesogaea,  or 
Midland.  In  the  days  of  Athenian  power  this  pleasant  region 
was  occupied  by  populous  villages  adorned  with  works  of  art, 
and  the  dwellings  of  citizens,  who  loved  to  retire  from  the 
tumults  of  the  city,  to  breathe  the  country  air  and  soothe  their 
minds  with  rural  employments.  Just  below  the  highest  point 
of  Hymettus  lay  the  deme  or  district  of  Paeania,  over  which 
the  shadows  fell  long  before  the  sun  went  down  behind  the 
Arcadian  hills  or  was  hidden  from  the  Acropolis.  In  this 
retired  place,  now  marked  by  a  few  foundations  of  ancient 
houses,  there  lived  in  the  first  half  of  the  fourth  century  B.  C. 
the  family  of  a  wealthy  and  active  citizen,  not  belonging  to  the 
ancient  nobility  of  Athens,  yet  not  without  honorable  distinc- 
tion. The  head  of  the  family  had  a  large  establishment  in 
the  city  for  the  manufacture  of  cutlery  and  furniture.  By  his 
honest  and  successful  industry  he  had  made  a  considerable 
fortune  to  add  to  the  dower  he  i*eceived  with  his  wife.  He 
had  married  early  in  life  the  daughter  of  Gylon,  an  Athenian, 
who,  placed  in  command  of  a  military  force,  on  a  distant  expe- 
dition, had  incurred  the  popular  displeasure  by  failure,  and  had 
established  himself  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Cimmerian  Bos- 
porus, where  he  received  from  one  of  the  Greek  princes  an 
estate  called  the  Gardens.  Living  in  exile,  and  married  to 
the  daughter  of  a  wealthy  Greek  colonist,  he  could  not  forger 
his  native  Athens.  He  sent  his  two  daughters  thither,  and  in 
course  of  time  thev  were  married,  —  the  one  to  Dernoehares, 


220  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

the  other,  Cleobule,  to  Demosthenes  of  Pseania,  the  sword 
maker  and   furniture-dealer,   whose   country-seat  was  at  the 
eastern  foot  of  Mount  Hymettus. 

A  few  years  later,  a  sickly  boy  of  seven,  clad  in  mourning, 
might  be  seen  shyly  walking  through  the  streets  of  Athens, 
under  the  care  of  a  domestic,  to  one  of  the  schools  where  the 
sons  of  the  richer  citizens  received  the  elements  of  education 
The  boy  was  too  feeble  and  nervous  to  join  in  the  rough  plav 
of  his  companions ;  but  he  was  assiduous  in  his  studies,  easily 
roused  to  enthusiasm  by  noble  and  generous  thoughts,  serious 
and  meditative  altogether  beyond  his  years.  If  he  lingered,  on 
the  way,  it  was  to  gaze  on  the  Parthenon  and  the  Propylaoa, 
the  beauty  and  splendor  of  which,  felt  but  not  understood,  filled 
his  soul  and  overflowed  his  eyes.  Sometimes  he  would  be 
seen  at  evening  strolling  in  the  shadows  of  Hymettus  with 
a  fair  young  girl,  two  years  younger  than  himself,  his  own 
orphan  sister.  The  mother  was  still  alive,  and  watched  with 
tender  care  over  these  two  children,  whose  education  she 
managed  with  more  than  usual  intelligence.  As  the  boy  grew 
up,  his  ardor  for  study  increased,  and  the  best  teachers  were 
employed  to  direct  his  pursuits.  In  the  arts  of  composition  he 
was  trained  in  the  school  of  Isgeus,  perhaps  also  in  that  of  Isoc- 
rates.  Plato  was  then  at  the  head  of  the  Academy,  and  to 
hat  source  of  noble  philosophy  and  splendid  eloquence  the 
youth  resorted ;  and  here  he  must  often  have  met  the  young 
Aristotle,  who,  two  years  older,  had  come  from  Stageira  to 
study  under  the  same  great  master.  As  he  strolled  thought- 
fully past  the  theatre,  or  through  the  Agora,  or  below  the 
Pnyx,  on  his  way  to  and  from  the  place  of  instruction,  he  saw 
the  dicasts  assembling  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the  lives  and  for- 
tunes of  the  citizens,  and  the  people  crowding  to  the  theatre  or 
the  Pnyx  to  hear  the  reports  of  ambassadors,  and  to  debate  on 
public  questions  of  peace  or  war.  Probably  he  would  venture 
at  times  to  follow  the  multitude  upon  the  slope  of  the  Pnyx, 
and,  lingering  on  the  outskirts  of  the  assembly,  would  catch 
the  accents  of  the  orators  from  the  bema.     No  doubt  his  som 


DEMOSTHENES.  221 

rvas  often  stirred  to  its  depths  by  the  animating  sights  and 
Shrilling  sounds  that  met  the  eye  and  ear  in  that  central 
scene  of  throbbing  democratic  life  ;  and  the  excited  boy  went 
to  his  quiet  home  under  the  shadows  of  Hymettus,  musing  on 
what  he  had  beheld  and  heard,  and  full  of  vague  aspirations  and 
dreamy  hopes.  But  alas !  nature  had  denied  him  the  strength 
for  the  palaestra,  and  the  sturdy  boys  of  his  age  despised  the 
slender  and  puny  stripling,  whose  awkward  manner,  straggling 
motions,  and  lisping  articulation  made  him  a  butt  for  their 
rude  jests,  and,  as  they  thought,  a  proper  subject  of  the  bar- 
barous wit  which  delights  in  giving  insulting  nicknames. 

On  one  occasion,  when  he  was  still  a  youth  of  fifteen,  he 
persuaded  his  attendant  to  accompany  him  to  the  court,  where 
Callistratus,  an  orator,  statesman,  and  general,  was  to  be  tried 
on  the  charge  of  having  betrayed  Oropos  to  the  Thebans. 
The  tutor,  having  some  acquaintance,  as  Plutarch  says,  with 
the  doorkeepers,  secured  a  place  where  the  boy  might  sit  un- 
seen and  hear  what  was  said.  The  speech  of  Callistratus  ap- 
pears to  have  been  powerful  and  eloquent,  and  to  have  excited 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  youth  to  the  highest  pitch.  From  this 
moment  his  career  was  chosen,  in  spite  of  every  obstacle. 
From  this  moment  he  devoted  himself  to  the  studies  which 
should  qualify  him  to  be  an  advocate  and  an  orator. 

In  the  course  of  his  reading  he  came  upon  the  history  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  by  Thucydides.  There  were  in  the  style 
and  sentiments  of  this  immortal  work  just  the  qualities  to  seize 
upon  the  earnest  spirit  of  the  young  man.  In  the  clear  and 
compact  narrative,  the  profound  philosophy,  the  nervous  elo- 
quence of  the  speeches,  especially  in  the  noble  image  of  his 
country's  glory  presented  in  the  great  oration  of  Pericles  over 
those  who  had  fallen  in  the  war,  the  student  found  a  tone 
which  made  his  heart-strings  vibrate,  and  filled  his  soul  with 
inexpressible  delight.  With  his  own  hand  he  copied  the 
work  eight  times,  and  thus  made  himself  master  of  all  its 
treasures  of  thought  and  style. 

Such  were  the  childhood  and  youth  of  Demosthenes,  son  of 


222  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

Demosthenes  the  Paaanian,  and  of  Cleobule,  born  at  the  Gar- 
dens in  the  Cimmerian  Bosporus.  The  year  of  his  birth  is 
disputed,  the  dates  varying  from  B.  C.  385  to  380 :  but  the 
most  probable  date  is  B.  C.  382.  After  the  death  of  his  father 
his  affairs  were  managed  by  guardians  appointed  by  the  will 
of  the  elder  Demosthenes, — Aphobus,  Demophon,  and  The- 
rippides.  Under  a  very  peculiar  provision  of  the  Attic  law, 
the  will  directed  that  the  widow  should  marry  Aphobus,  he 
receiving  with  her  a  dowry  of  eighty  minae  (about  fourteen 
hundred  dollars)  ;  that  Demophon  should  marry  the  daughter 
when  she  reached  the  proper  age,  with  a  dowry  of  two  talents 
(two  thousand  dollars)  ;  and  that  Therippides  should  receive 
the  interest  of  seventy  minse  —  which  at  twelve  per  cent,  the 
legal  rate  of  interest,  would  have  been  about  one  hundred  and 
forty  dollars  annually  —  until  the  son  should  be  of  age.  The 
whole  estate  was  estimated  at  about  fifteen  talents.  The  un- 
faithful guardians  took  not  only  the  money  devised  to  them, 
but  a  great  deal  more  ;  while  in  the  matter  of  the  marriages 
they  failed  to  comply  with  the  provisions  of  the  will,  to  the 
great  satisfaction,  I  have  no  doubt,  both  of  the  mother  and 
the  daughter.  But  when  Demosthenes  reached  his  major- 
ity, he  found  from  the  accounts  of  these  dishonest  men  that 
he  was  to  receive  only  seventy  minae,  —  not  quite  twelve 
hundred  dollars.  The  training  he  had  received  under  Isasus 
had  given  him  a  familiarity  with  the  laws  of  inheritance,  and 
without  delay  he  commenced  a  suit  against  the  guardians 
for  the  recovery  of  his  property.  The  case  was  twice  ex- 
amined by  the  Diaetetae,  or  arbitrators,  who  decided  in  favor 
of  the  suitor.  Finally  it  was  carried  before  the  Archon,  in 
an  action  against  Aphobus  alone,  and  the  court  awarded  to  the 
claimant  ten  talents.  He  probably  received  some  portion  of 
the  money  ;  for  we  find  that  his  position  was  always  that  of  a 
man  of  sufficient  means,  and  his  studies  were  by  no  meam 
abandoned  or  remitted  at  this  time. 

The  pleas  of  the  young  orator  have  been  preserved.     Thev 
are  models  of  the  clear  statement  of  facts,  —  giving  an   exacf 


DEMOSTHENES.  223 

inventory  of  the  estate  at  the  time  of  his  father's  death,  and  the 
value  of  each  item  of  property, — of  close  logical  argument,  and 
of  cogent  application  of  the  principles  of  the  law.  They  show 
a  sound  head,  good  judgment,  and  the  most  practical  mode  of 
dealing  with  practical  subjects ;  but  the  occasion  required  none 
of  those  peculiar  and  commanding  powers  which  afterwards 
swayed  the  hearts  and  intellects  of  the  people.  They  give  us 
a  very  favorable  opinion  of  the  taste  and  sense  of  the  young 
pleader,  and  of  the  calm,  judicial  character  of  the  court. 
There  is  a  difficulty  in  fixing  the  early  dates  in  the  career  of 
Demosthenes,  on  account  of  the  conflicting  statements  as  to 
the  year  of  his  birth.  These  proceedings,  however,  appear  to 
have  commenced  in  366  B.  C,  and  the  suit  against  Aphobus 
to  have  been  decided  in  364  B.  C. 

Demosthenes  was  no  doubt  encouraged  by  his  success  in 
this  cause  to  continue  to  study  the  art  of  speaking,  and  to  ven 
ture  to  address  the  people.  But  he  found  that  it  was  one 
thing  to  argue  a  question  of  inheritance  before  a  court  of  law, 
and  quite  another  to  stand  upon  the  bema  and  address  the 
multitude  on  a  matter  of  public  interest.  Here  his  personal 
defects  —  his  short  breath,  his  indistinct  utterance,  his  clumsily 
constructed  sentences,  and  his  awkward  angular  gestures  —  told 
terribly  against  him.  His  speech  was  worse  than  a  failure  ;  it 
was  derided  and  hooted  at.  Again  and  again  he  hazarded 
himself  on  the  bema ;  but  the  assembly  refused  to  hear  him, 
and  the  dream  of  his  youth  seemed  on  the  point  of  vanishing 
forever.  Yet  there  were  persons  present  who  had  the  sagacity 
to  discern  under  this  unpromising  exterior  the  true  value  of 
the  hidden  germ.  Eunomus,  an  old  man,  who  in  his  boyhood 
had  listened  to  Pericles,  meeting  Demosthenes  one  day,  as  he 
strolled  disconsolately  about  the  Peirseus,  took  him  to  task  for 
giving  up  so  easily,  accused  him  of  a  mean  and  cowardly  spirit, 
and  ended  by  paying  hin?  the  splendid  compliment  of  com- 
paring his  diction  to  that  of  Pericles.  We  can  easily  imagine 
the  thrill  of  delight  which  shot  through  the  young  man's  frame 
when  he  heard  this  encouraging  romment.     On  another  occa- 


224  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

sion,  Satyrus,  the  player,  his  familiar  friend,  followed  him  as 
he  slunk  away  from  the  assembly  with  his  head  muffled  up, 
and,  drawing  him  into  conversation,  listened  kindly  to  his  com 
plaint,  that,  while  sots  and  ignorant  fellows  were  readily  heard 
and  carried  away  the  applauses  of  the  people,  he,  the  most  in- 
dustrious and  painstaking  of  the  speakers,  could  find  no  accept- 
ance. Satyrus  begged  him  to  recite  some  passage  from  Sopho- 
cles or  Euripides.  Demosthenes  complied.  Satyrus  repeated 
the  lines  after  him,  with  proper  tone,  action,  and  look,  so  that 
it  appeared  to  Demosthenes  a  wholly  different  thing.  He  now 
gave  himself  up  to  the  severest  labors,  resolved  that  he  would 
remedy  his  own  defects.  He  told  Demetrius  Phalereus,  many 
years  afterwards,  that  he  overcame  his  inarticulate  and  stam- 
mering pronunciation  by  speaking  with  pebbles  in  his  mouth  ; 
that  he  strengthened  his  voice  by  declaiming  and  reciting  verses 
and  speeches,  when  out  of  breath,  while  running,  or  walking 
up  hill ;  and  that  in  his  house  he  had  a  large  mirror,  before 
which  he  stood  and  went  through  his  exercises.  We  learn 
from  other  sources  that  he  was  accustomed  to  walk  on  the  long 
beach  of  Phalerum,  and  declaim  to  the  waves,  that  he  might 
learn  not  to  be  disconcerted  by  the  tumults  of  a  stormy  popu- 
lar assembly.  I  have  myself  walked  over  the  same  long  beach, 
—  though  not  for  the  same  purpose,  —  and,  recalling  Demos- 
thenes, brought  away  some  of  the  pebbles,  hoping  that  they 
might  be  of  use  to  some  of  my  Demosthenean  friends.  The 
story  of  his  shutting  himself  up  and  shaving  one  half  of  his 
head,  that  he  might  not  dare  to  venture  out  for  months  at  a 
time,  is  somewhat  apocryphal.  But  he  made  every  subject 
that  came  up  in  his  common  intercourse  with  the  citizens 
subservient  to  his  one  great  object,  "  taking  from  hence,"  says 
Plutarch,  "  occasions  and  arguments  to  work  upon."  After  a 
conversation  or  discussion,  he  would  retire  from  the  company, 
go  over  again  all  the  topics  by  himself,  and  reduce  the  subject- 
matter  to  writing,  starting  objections,  rearranging  the  argu- 
ments, and  changing  the  forms  of  expression  in  every  possi- 
ole  way.     Perseverance  such  as  his  deserved  success,  and  hft 


DEMOSTHENES.  225 

gained  it  at  no  distant  time.  His  first  prosecution  of  Meidias 
took  place  in  361  B.  C.  The  speech  is  lost,  but  the  cause  was 
gained. 

To  the  year  355  B.  C.  belongs  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
and  interesting  orations  of  Demosthenes,  —  one  praised  by  Dio- 
nysius  as  being  the  most  finished  and  graceful  of  all  his  works, 
and  placed  by  Wolf  next  in  excellence  to  the  Oration  on 
the  Crown.  It  is  the  oration  against  the  law  of  Leptines, 
1  slivered  on  the  following  occasion.  The  finances  of  Athens 
were  in  an  embarrassed  condition,  and  a  citizen,  Leptines  by 
name,  with  the  view  of  relieving  the  treasury  of  some  of  its 
burdens,  proposed  and  carried  a  law  that  no  citizen  or  resident 
alien  should  be  exempt  from  the  ordinary  public  burdens 
or  the  costly  liturgies,  except  the  descendants  of  Harmo- 
dius  and  Aristogeiton.  One  form  of  rewarding  distinguished 
public  services  was  to  grant  such  exemption,  under  the  name 
of  areXeia,  which  was  sometimes  bestowed  in  perpetuity  upon 
the  family  of  a  benefactor  of  the  state.  But  it  was  argued  by 
Leptines  and  those  who  supported  his  proposition,  that  this 
honor  and  privilege  had  been  profusely  and  unwisely  granted, 
and  was  now  held  by  many  unworthy  persons,  to  the  damage 
of  the  state.  The  proposer  of  a  new  law  was  liable,  for  one 
year  after  its  passage,  to  prosecution  for  unconstitutional  pro- 
cedure. A  person  named  Bathippus  resorted  to  this  process ; 
but  before  the  case  came  to  trial  he  died,  and  no  further  pro- 
ceedings were  held  until  after  the  year  had  expired.  This  ex- 
empted Leptines  from  any  further  personal  liability ;  but  the 
law  itself  might  still  be  made  the  object  of  a  legitimate  attack. 
Aphepsion,  the  son  of  Bathippus,  and  Ctesippus,  the  son  of 
Chabrias,  the  latter  of  whom  inherited  the  immunity  from  his 
father,  renewed  the  prosecution,  under  the  form  of  an  impeach- 
ment of  the  law.  According  to  legal  precedents,  the  author 
of  the  law  and  four  others  were  appointed  advocates  to  de- 
fend it.  The  prosecutors  engaged  Phormion  and  Demosthenes 
as  counsel.  Phormion  spoke  for  Aphepsion,  and  Demosthenes 
fer  Ctesippus.     Of  all  the  speeches  made  on  this  very  interest- 

voi.     II.  15 


226  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

ing  trial,  that  of  Demosthenes  is  the  only  one  preser\ed.  The 
arguments  on  the  other  side  are  to  be  inferred  mainly  from 
this  speech.  The  reasons  against  the  law  are  various  ;  but  the 
most  important  and  interesting  point,  in  a  general  view  of  po- 
litical ethics,  is  the  high  ground  assumed  by  the  young  advo- 
cate in  support  of  the  public  faith.  He  presses  other  consid- 
erations with  great  force  upon  the  minds  of  the  jury,  —  such  as 
the  slight  advantage  it  would  be  to  the  state,  in  a  pecuniary 
point  of  view,  to  revoke  these  immunities,  the  inexpediency 
and  danger  of  taking  away  or  lessening  the  power  of  the  peo- 
ple to  encourage  public  virtue  by  the  variety  of  public  rewards, 
and  the  damage  which  this  would  cause  to  the  interests  of  the 
state,  in  abating  the  good-will  they  had  hitherto  enjoyed  on 
the  part  of  foreign  citizens  and  rulers.  But  the  great  point  on 
which  Demosthenes  relies  is  the  sacredness  and  inviolability 
of  the  public  faith.  On  this  point  he  early  lays  down  the 
highest  principle,  and  makes  it  the  foundation  of  his  whole 
argument.  He  says  :  "  How  is  it  otherwise  than  disgraceful, 
men  of  Athens,  when  a  law  has  been  passed  requiring  the  truth 
to  be  spoken  in  the  market-place,  in  cases  where  a  falsehood 
works  no  harm  to  the  community,  that  the  same  city  which 
has  enjoined  this  duty  upon  private  citizens  should  not  observe 
the  truth  in  public  affairs,  but  should  defraud  those  who  have 
rendered  her  services,  and  that  too  with  the  certainty  of  bring- 
ing on  herself  a  heavy  penalty?  For  you  are  to  consider 
whether  you  are  to  love  money  alone,  and  not  also  an  honor- 
able fame,  for  which  you  are  more  anxious  than  for  money;  nor 
you  alone,  but  your  ancestors.  The  proof  is,  that,  when  they 
had  acquired  the  most  abundant  wealth,  they  spent  it  all  for 
honor,  they  shrank  from  no  dangers  for  glory,  and  persevered 
~o  the  end,  lavishing  their  private  fortunes  besides  in  the  same 
cause.  Now,  however,  instead  of  an  honorable  name,  this  law 
attaches  to  the  state  a  dishonored  one,  unworthy  of  your  an- 
cestors and  yourselves  ;  for  it  brings  upon  us  three  of  the 
greatest  reproaches,  —  the  reputation  of  being  envious,  unfaith 
&il,  ungrateful." 


DEMOSTHENES.  227 

Such  is  the  principle  of  publi:  morality  which  Demosthenes 
presses  on  the  people,  as  the  chief  inducement  to  repeal  a  law 
which  they  have  inconsiderately  passed,  —  a  law  which  violated 
the  public  faith  by  impairing  the  obligation  of  a  sokmn  con 
tract.  In  its  scope  and  substance  the  argument  of  Demos- 
thenes may  be  compared  with  Mr.  Webster's  plea  for  Dart- 
mouth College  before  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States. 
Both  of  the  great  lawyers  had  the  like  success ;  both  vindi- 
cated the  public  honor,  and  established,  with  an  invincible  force 
of  reasoning,  the  sanctity  of  the  faith  of  a  state  when  once 
pledged  by  legislative  enactment.  It  gives  us  a  good  opinion 
of  our  judicial  institutions,  when  we  find  the  supreme  tribunal 
peacefully  undoing  the  work  of  mischievous  legislation,  and 
the  commonwealth  thus  overruled  meekly  submitting  to  the 
high  mandate  of  justice  ;  —  does  it  not  give  us  an  equally  good 
opinion  of  the  people  of  Athens,  when  we  see  them  quietly  un- 
doing their  own  ill-considered  work,  under  the  persuasion  of 
the  lofty  words  of  truth  and  honor  from  the  lips  of  that  young 
man  ? 

In  354  B.  C,  ten  years  after  the  successful  pleading  against 
Aphobus,  Demosthenes,  being  now  probably  twenty-eight  years 
old,  delivered  a  most  able  and  statesmanlike  argument  against 
the  project,  then  much  favored  by  the  popular  leaders,  of  mak- 
king  war  against  Persia.  It  had  been  years  before  a  frequent 
topic  in  the  political  discourses  of  Isocrates ;  and  the  popular 
feeling  was  easily  roused  by  the  prospect  of  victories  in  the 
East.  But  Demosthenes,  though  young,  and  eager  for  popular 
applause,  yet,  foreseeing  what  many  older  and  more  experienced 
men  either  did  not  foresee  or  had  not  the  courage  to  say, 
warned  the  Athenians  that  they  had  enemies  enough  at  home 
without  provoking  hostilities  abroad,  and  that  their  true  policy 
was,  not  to  exhaust  themselves  in  a  foreign  war,  but  to  intro- 
duce into  their  public  administration  such  reforms  as  would 
enable  them  to  meet  successfully  any  foe  from  whatever  quar- 
ter he  might  come.  He  therefore  seized  the  opportunity  of 
proposing  certain  changes  in  tne  naval  department  that  wouhJ 


228  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

render  it  more  efficient.  On  the  Persian  question  the  young 
statesman  carried  the  assembly  with  him  ;  no  naval  reform 
was  adopted  until  several  years  afterward.  The  speech 
closes  in  this  just  and  moderate  tone  :  "  That  I  may  not 
weary  you,  men  of  Athens,  with  long  speaking,  I  will  close 
after  having  repeated  the  heads  of  my  advice.  I  advise  you  to 
prepare  against  the  enemies  you  have ;  to  defend  yourselves 
against  the  king  and  all  others,  if  they  attempt  to  injure  you, 
with  this  same  force ;  but  to  begin  no  unjust  word  or  deed,  and 
to  see  to  it  that  our  actions,  and  not  the  speeches  on  the  bema, 
be  worthy  of  our  ancestors.  If  you  do  this,  you  will  do  what 
is  for  your  own  interest,  and  for  the  interest  of  those  who  give 
you  the  opposite  advice  ;  for  you  will  not  afterwards  make 
them  feel  your  anger  for  the  errors  into  which  they  would 
have  led  you." 

When  we  consider  the  circumstances  under  which  this  ora- 
tion was  delivered,  the  orator's  former  experience  of  the  temper 
of  the  popular  assembly,  and  his  eager  desire  to  win  the  ear  of 
the  people,  we  cannot  but  admire  the  independence  and  the 
moral  courage  required  to  resist  the  popular  current,  no  less 
than  the  sagacity  of  the  young  statesman,  who  saw  clearly  what 
the  true  interests  of  his  country  demanded. 

The  speech  on  Megalopolis  was  delivered  in  the  following 
year,  urging  the  Athenians  to  protect  that  city  against  the  Lace- 
daemonians. Here  again  the  young  orator  takes  a  very  sober 
and  practical  view  of  the  interests  of  his  country  ;  but  they  had 
not  the  wisdom  to  follow  his  counsels,  and  so  alienated  the  Ar 
cadian  confederacy  that,  when  they  again  needed  aid  against 
the  designs  of  Sparta,  they  applied,  not  to  Athens,  but  to  Philip, 
and  thus  gave  that  wily  prince  an  opportunity  to  interfere  and 
intrigue  in  the  affairs  of  the  Peloponnesus. 

In  the  course  of  the  same  year  Demosthenes  prosecuted 
Meidias  ior  an  outrage  committed  on  his  person  during  a  sacred 
festival  in  which  he  had  taken  a  leading  part.  His  tribe  —  the 
Pandionian  —  had  neglected  for  two  years  to  make  the  usua^ 
preparations  for  the  liturgy  in  the  lyrical,  musical,  and  dramatic 


DEMOSTHENES.  229 

entertainments;  and  in  354  B.  C,  to  save  the  honor  of  the 
tribe,  Demosthenes  had  volunteered  to  bear  the  expenses  of 
the  Choregia.  Meidias,  who  nursed  some  old  resentments 
growing  out  of  the  prosecution  of  the  guardians,  shewed  his 
malignant  disposition  by  every  species  of  impertinent  annoyance, 
and  at  length  proceeded  to  open  violence  by  entering  the  gold- 
smith's shop  and  endeavoring  to  destroy  the  golden  crowns 
which  the  orator  had  provided  for  his  chorus,  and  finally  by 
inflicting  blows  upon  Demosthenes,  while  performing  his  duties 
in  the  orchestra  in  the  sacred  character  of  Choregus.  After 
the  festival  was  over  Demosthenes  prosecuted  him,  first,  under 
the  process  called  a  probolS,  before  the  people,  somewhat  like 
the  modern  inquest  before  a  grand-jury ;  and,  they  having  de- 
cided that  there  was  sufficient  ground  of  action,  the  case  was 
referred  for  adjudication  to  one  of  the  courts.  It  is  uncertain 
whether  it  ever  came  to  trial ;  Plutarch  asserts  that  it  was 
compromised  on  the  payment  of  thirty  minae  (about  five  hun- 
dred dollars) ;  and  ^Eschines,  in  the  Oration  against  Ctesiphon, 
accuses  Demosthenes  of  having  accepted  money  for  blows. 
Mr.  Grote,  however,  is  of  opinion  that  the  cause  came  to  trial, 
and  some  expressions  in  the  existing  speech  imply  that  terms 
of  settlement  had  been  offered  and  rejected. 

These  speeches,  taken  in  connection  with  the  facts  of  his  bi- 
ography, suffice  to  show  how  firm  and  strong  was  the  character 
enshrined  in  the  slender  form  of  Demosthenes,  and  how  lofty 
were  the  principles  of  public  and  private  morality  which  he  had 
bravely  adopted,  before  he  brought  them  to  the  test  of  the  life- 
long conflict  for  which  Providence  was  preparing  him. 

Up  to  this  time  no  mention  has  been  made  of  Philip  and 
Macedonian  affairs.  He  had  undoubtedly  watched  the  course 
of  that  monarch  with  the  closest  scrutiny,  and  formed  his  own 
opinion  both  of  his  designs  and  of  his  ability  to  accomplish  them. 
Among  the  topics  of  conversation  at  Athens  in  his  youth,  the 
residence  of  the  prince  in  Thebes  must  have  often  occurred  ; 
and  when  he  repaired  to  the  Macedonian  capital,  assumed  the 
government,  and  proceeded  with  such  extraordinary  vigor  tc 


230  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

put  down  all  opposition,  I  cannot  doubt  that  the  young  states- 
man at  Athens  was  vigilantly  observing  every  event  in  his 
course.  When  the  time  came  for  him  to  take  his  ground,  his 
mind  was  made  up,  and  his  knowledge  of  Philip  was  exact  and 
thorough  ;  and  it  may  be  added,  that,  though  he  was  not  the 
only  opponent  of  the  Macedonian  policy,  he  was  the  one  man 
in  Athens  who  best  comprehended  it.  Philip  had  been  king 
seven  years.  He  had  organized  a  powerful  army ;  he  had  taken 
Amphipolis,  B.  C.  358  ;  he  had  reduced  Pydna  and  Poti- 
dasa.  He  had  begun  to  work  the  mines  near  Philippi,  from 
which  he  derived  a  thousand  talents  a  year.  In  354  B.  C.  he 
attacked  Methone,  the  only  remaining  possession  of  the  Athe- 
nians on  the  Thermaic  Gulf,  and  he  now  threatened  their  pos- 
sessions in  the  Chersonesus,  where  several  years  before  he  had 
made  some  hostile  demonstrations.  He  interfered  in  the  Pho- 
cian  war ;  took  Pheras,  and  laid  siege  to  Pagasae ;  and,  though 
the  Athenians  had  succeeded  in  preventing  him  from  passing 
the  strait  of  Thermopylae  by  sending  a  fleet  thither,  yet,  as  Mr. 
Grote  says,  "  the  king  of  Macedon  had  become  the  ascendant 
soldier  and  potentate,  hanging  on  the  skirts  of  the  Grecian 
world,  exciting  fears  or  hopes,  or  both  at  once,  in  every  city 
throughout  its  limits."  The  attack  of  Philip  on  Herason  Tei- 
chos,  a  stronghold  near  the  Athenian  possessions,  towards  the 
end  of  352  B.  C,  excited  much  alarm,  and  the  question  what 
was  to  be  done  was  earnestly  debated  in  the  Pnyx.  The 
older  statesmen  were  Eubulus  and  Phocion.  Demosthenes 
was  a  careful  observer  of  what  was  going  forward,  and,  think- 
ing their  counsels  wholly  unsuited  to  so  grave  an  emergency, 
early  in  351  B.  C.  he  pronounced  his  first  oration  against 
Philip  and  his  designs,  he  himself  being  about  thirty-one  years 
of  age.  At  the  assembly  at  which  it  was  delivered  he  was  th« 
first  to  speak,  for  which,  in  the  opening  part  of  the  address,  he 
makes  a  modest  apology.  Young  as  he  was,  and  important 
as  was  the  crisis  in  public  affairs,  the  oration  shows  not  onh 
the  most  commanding  eloquence,  but  administrative  talent  of 
•.he  highest  character.     He  boldly  points  out  the  faults  of  the 


DEMOSTHENES  281 

people  of  Athens,  their  supineness,  negligence,  and  tieasonable 
and  dangerous  love  of  pleasure,  and  lays  before  them  in  detail 
a  scheme  of  public  policy  which  will  remedy  the  past  and  give 
security  for  the  future.  Philip  has  gained  all  his  advantages 
by  his  incessant  activity ;  "  for  all  are  willing  to  support  and 
give  heed  to  those  who  are  prepared  and  prompt  to  do  their 
duty."  Such  is  the  key-note  of  this  most  animating  address. 
"When,  men  of  Athens,  will  you  do  what  is  required?  When 
what  shall  have  happened  ?  Why,  when  it  is  necessary,  to  be 
sure.  But  now,  what  are  we  to  think  of  the  events  taking 
place  ?  I  think  the  greatest  necessity  for  freemen  is  shame 
for  the  condition  of  their  affairs.  Do  you  wish,  tell  me,  to  run 
about  and  inquire  of  each  other,  '  Is  there  any  news  ? '  Why, 
what  greater  news  can  there  be  than  a  Macedonian  man  sub- 
duing Athenians  in  war,  and  regulating  the  affairs  of  the 
Greeks?  Is  Philip  dead?  No,  but  he  is  sick.  What  differ- 
ence does  that  make  to  you  ?  None ;  for  if  anything  shoulo 
happen  to  him,  you  will  quickly  create  another  Philip,  if  you 
continue  thus  to  give  heed  to  your  affairs.  For  he  has  grown 
in  power  not  so  much  by  his  own  strength  as  by  your  negli 
gence." 

In  another  place  he  illustrates  the  unmethodical  and  improvi 
dent  way  in  which  the  Athenians  have  conducted  the  war  with 
Philip  by  a  plain  but  very  apt  comparison.  "  You,  men  of 
Athens,  have  the  largest  forces,  —  ships  of  war,  infantry,  cav- 
alry, pecuniary  supplies,  —  but  down  to  the  present  day  you 
have  not  used  one  of  them  to  any  good  purpose.  You  carry 
on  the  war  with  Philip  just  as  the  barbarians  box.  Among 
them,  he  who  is  struck  al  ways  clears  to  the  blow  ;  if  you 
strike  him  in  another  place,  there  go  his  hands ;  to  put  himself 
on  guard,  to  look  you  in  the  eye,  he  neither  knows  how  nor 
desires  to  do  so.  And  you,  if  you  hear  of  Philip  in  the  Cher- 
sonesus,  vote  to  send  a  force  there  ;  if  in  Thermopylae,  there  ; 
if  anywhere  else,  the  same.  You  run  up  and  dcwn  after  his 
movements,  and  are  led  by  him  ;  you  have  formed  no  plan 
(or   the   war ;  you   foresee  nothing  before  the  events,  before 


232  CONSTITUTIONS  AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

you  have   learned   that  something   has  happened  or  is  hap 
pening." 

After  the  most  stirring  appeals  to  the  honorable  pride  of  his 
fellow-citizens,  he  closes,  kindly  and  modestly :  u  I  have  never 
before  chosen  to  speak  for  your  favor  that  which  I  have  not 
been  persuaded  would  be  for  your  good ;  and  now  I  have  ut- 
tered all  that  I  think,  freely,  honestly,  and  without  disguise.  1 
could  wish  that,  as  I  know  it  will  be  for  your  interest  to  hear 
the  best  counsels,  I  equally  knew  it  would  be  for  the  advantage 
of  him  who  gives  them.  For  I  should  then  have  spoken  with 
much  more  satisfaction  to  myself.  But  now,  quite  uncertain 
of  what  will  be  the  result  to  me  personally,  I  nevertheless  have 
determined  to  give  this  advice,  in  the  thorough  conviction  that 
it  will  be  for  your  good  if  you  act  according  to  it.  And  may 
that  prevail  which  shall  benefit  you  all  !  " 

In  351  B.  C,  Demosthenes  delivered  a  speech  on  the  free- 
dom of  the  Rhodians,  advising  the  Athenians  to  support  the 
popular  party  there.  Here  again  he  had  to  run  counter  to  the 
passions  of  the  moment,  as  the  Athenians,  irritated  by  injuries 
which  they  had  received,  were  disinclined  to  aid  the  Rhodians 
in  this  emergency.  Demosthenes  was  wise  enough  to  see  that 
conciliation  was  the  best  policy,  and  advised  a  generous  course ; 
but  the  people  were  not  wise  enough  to  adopt  his  counsel,  and 
suffered  for  their  folly,  as  they  always  did.  He  closes  thus : 
"  I  think  you  ought  to  take  hold  of  this  business  with  vigor,  and 
to  adopt  a  line  of  conduct  worthy  of  the  city,  remembering  that 
you  delight  to  hear  the  praises  of  your  ancestors,  the  narrative 
of  their  exploits,  and  the  enumeration  of  their  trophies.  Bear 
in  mind,  then,  that  your  ancestors  consecrated  these  trophies, 
not  only  that  you  might  admire  them  as  you  gaze  upon  them, 
but  that  you  might  imitate  the  virtues  of  those  who  consecrated 
them." 

In  349  B.  C,  when  Philip  attacked  the  Olynthians,  they  sent 
ambassadors  to  Athens  to  implore  aid  against  him.  Demosthe- 
nes delivered,  in  the  course  of  that  year,  the  three  spirited  and 
eloquent  speeches  bearing  the  title  of  the  Olynthiacs,  in  support 


DEMOSTHENES.  233 

of  the  requests  of  the  Olynthian  ambassadors.  In  their  general 
tone  they  resemble  the  Philippics.  Perhaps  the  attacks  upon 
Philip  are  even  bolder  and  more  energetic.  Thus,  in  speak- 
ing of  the  necessary  insecurity  of  his  power,  on  account  of  the 
wrongs  he  has  committed  in  acquiring  it,  the  orator  bursts  out: 
"  It  is  not  possible,  it  is  not  possible,  men  of  Athens,  that  a 
man  can  acquire  permanent  power  by  injustice,  perjury,  and 
falsehood.  Such  things  succeed  for  once,  and  last  for  a  little 
while,  and  flourish  mightily  in  promise,  but  they  are  detected  in 
time,  and  fall  in  ruin  upon  themselves.  For  as  the  foundation 
of  a  house  or  ship  or  other  such  structure  must  be  the  strongest 
part,  so  the  rules  and  principles  of  conduct  must  be  true  and 
just.  And  this  is  not  the  case  with  the  actions  of  Philip." 
Notwithstanding  the  eloquence  of  Demosthenes  and  the  efforts 
of  the  Athenians,  the  fate  of  Olynthus  was  at  length  sealed 
through  the  treachery  of  two  of  its  citizens,  —  Lasthenes  and 
Euthycrates,  corrupted  by  Philip. 

During  the  Olynthian  war,  Philip  had  given  some  hints  of 
a  desire  to  make  peace  with  Athens.  Philocrates  moved  the 
sending  an  embassy  to  open  negotiations  ;  and  ^Eschines,  De- 
mosthenes, and  others  —  ten  in  all  —  were  joined  with  him. 
On  their  return  they  were  soon  followed  by  ministers  from 
Philip.  The  terms  of  a  treaty  were  discussed  in  two  assem- 
blies, and  were  agreed  to  by  a  committee  appointed  to  repre- 
sent the  people,  who  in  that  capacity  took  the  customary  oath. 
The  same  persons  were  sent  to  Macedonia  on  a  second  em- 
bassy, with  instructions  to  receive  the  oaths  from  Philip  at  the 
earliest  possible  moment.  Against  the  remonstrances  of  De- 
mosthenes, they  lingered  on  the  way  ;  and  when  they  arrived 
at  Pella,  and  found  that  the  king  was  absent  on  an  expedition 
to  the  Bosporus,  instead  of  following  him  thither,  and  ex- 
changing the  ratifications  at  once,  according  to  their  instruc- 
tions, they  remained  quiet  for  three  months,  awaiting  his  re- 
turn, even  then  allowed  him  to  complete  his  preparations  for 
his  meditated  attack  on  the  Phocians,  and  accompanied  him 
on  his  march  to  Thessaly,  where  at  length  the  ceremony  was 


234  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREEOK. 

performed ;  and  the  ambassadors,  returning,  made  their  report. 
Demosthenes  charged  several  of  his  colleagues  with  having 
adopted  this  extraordinary  course  because  they  were  bribed 
by  the  king ;  but  for  the  moment  the  people  chose  to  accept 
the  explanations,  not  very  credible  or  intelligible,  which  they 
gave ;  and  the  consequence  was  that  Philip's  long-meditated 
designs  were  easily  accomplished.  He  passed  Thermopylae 
without  opposition,  and,  conquering  Phocis  without  difficulty, 
succeeded  to  the  seat  of  that  state  in  the  Amphictyonic  As- 
sembly, as  has  been  already  related.  The  people  of  Athens 
now  could  not  help  opening  their  eyes.  They  saw  themselves 
completely  outwitted  by  the  craft  of  Philip,  and  by  the  criminal 
negligence  or  corruption  of  a  majority  of  their  ministers.  In 
the  violence  of  their  indignation,  they  threatened  to  declare 
war  against  Philip ;  but  Demosthenes,  —  now  known  as  the 
most  strenuous  opponent  of  the  king, — in  a  short  and  vigorous 
speech,  persuaded  them  that  this  would  be  an  unwise  and  im- 
prudent step.  It  would  involve  them  in  a  general  war  with 
the  Amphictyonic  states ;  and  he  said  it  was  not  worth  while 
to  incur  such  danger  and  expense  in  fighting  for  the  shadow  in 
Delphi. 

From  this  time  Demosthenes  was  the  undisputed  head  of 
the  anti-Macedonian  party,  and  the  political  hostility  between 
him  and  ^Eschines  was  unrelenting  and  bitter.  In  343  B.  C. 
Demosthenes  prosecuted  his  opponent  on  a  charge  of  corrupt 
conduct  in  the  embassy,  but  failed  to  procure  a  conviction. 
Philip  continued  his  intrigues  in  nearly  all  the  Grecian  states , 
but  Demosthenes  everywhere  met  his  agents,  and  set  himself 
in  the  sternest  opposition  to  them.  He  urged  the  necessity  of 
union,  by  every  consideration  that  patriotic  ardor  and  unsur- 
passed ability  suggested,  with  a  perseverance  which  no  labor 
could  exhaust  or  fatigue,  and  a  courage  greater  than  was  ever 
shown  by  a  warrior  on  the  field  of  battle.  But  the  dissensions 
in  the  state,  the  want  of  public  virtue  in  the  leading  citizens, 
the  general  disposition  to  make  the  most  of  the  present,  regard 
lesi;  of  the  future,  and  the  despair  of  good  men  as  to  the  resto 


DEMOSTHENES.  235 

-ation  of  the  sturdy  virtues  of  former  times,  rendered  his  efforts 
unsuccessful,  except  in  brief  moments  of  alarm  ;  and  he  failed 
to  bring  about  any  permanent  and  united  system  of  opposition 
to  the  encroachments  of  the  Northern  intriguer. 

In  344  B.  C.  Demosthenes  delivered  the  second  Philippic 
two  years  later  he  uttered  the  vigorous  and  admirable  oration 
on  the  affairs  of  the  Chersonesus,  in  which  he  answered  Phil- 
ip's complaints  against  Diopeithes,  the  commander  of  the  Athe- 
nian force  operating  in  that  peninsula ;  and  this  was  followed 
by  the  third  Philippic. 

In  340  B.  C.  Philip  laid  siege  to  Byzantium  ;  persuaded 
by  Demosthenes,  the  Athenians  sent  a  strong  naval  force 
to  its  relief,  and  the  king  was  compelled  to  raise  the  siege. 
In  this  same  year  Demosthenes  succeeded  in  effecting  the 
naval  reform  which  he  had  recommended  before.  In  this 
year,  also,  a  very  important  transaction  —  to  which  a  brief  ref- 
erence was  made  in  the  last  Lecture  —  occurred  at  the  Am- 
phictyonic  Assembly,  on  the  proposition  of  JEschines,  who  was 
then  one  of  the  representatives  at  Delphi.  ^Eschines  proposed 
a  decree  against  the  Locrians  of  Amphissa,  for  having  sacrile- 
giously occupied  and  cultivated  a  portion  of  the  sacred  lands. 
An  extraordinary  meeting  of  the  Assembly  was  called  to  de- 
cide what  should  be  done  with  them  ;  and  the  deputies  were 
directed  to  bring  instructions  from  their  constituents.  At 
Athens,  Demosthenes,  foreseeing,  with  his  usual  sagacity,  the 
evil  consequences  that  would  follow  from  such  a  war,  resisted 
successfully  the  motion  of  ^Eschines,  and  the  Athenians  sent 
no  deputy.  All  that  Demosthenes  foresaw  happened.  After 
a  time  Philip  was  appointed  commander  of  the  Amphictyonic 
forces,  which  gave  him  the  opportunity  he  had  long  desired,  of 
marching  at  the  head  of  an  army  into  the  heart  of  Greece. 
He  occupied  the  important  post  of  Elateia,  and  fortified  it. 
The  news  was  despatched  to  Athens  with  all  speed,  and  caused 
there  the  greatest  consternation.  An  assembly  was  called  the 
next  morning.  No  one  dared  to  rise,  so  perplexed  and  con- 
founded  were   all   the   statesmen.     jEsohines  war  dumb,  and 


236  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

universal  terror  pervaded  the  meeting.  But  Demosthenes, 
waiting  to  see  if  any  of  his  opponents  had  anything  to  say,  at 
length,  as  they  were  all  speechless,  took  the  bema,  and  in  a 
powerful  speech  urged  an  immediate  alliance  with  Thebes, 
as  the  only  means  of  averting  destruction.  His  advice  was 
promptly  taken.  Hyperides  and  Demosthenes  were  put  upon 
the  mission.  They  hurried  to  Thebes,  and  found  an  eloquent 
and  able  representative  of  Philip  already  on  the  ground.  De- 
mosthenes answered  him  in  detail,  point  by  point,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Theban  people,  and  carried  the  day.  The  forces 
of  the  two  cities  were  immediately  united ;  and  so  formidable 
was  their  display  of  vigor  that  Philip  was  alarmed.  Partial 
engagements  followed,  in  which  the  confederates  were  success- 
ftd,  and  all  was  joy  and  exultation  at  Athens.  Philip  sued  for 
peace,  and  the  Thebans  were  inclined  to  grant  it ;  but  Demos- 
thenes, seeing  that  such  a  measure  was  all  in  Philip's  favor,  and 
that  now  or  never  was  the  time  to  strike  a  blow  for  national 
independence,  resisted  the  proposition  with  such  force  of  ar- 
gument that  it  was  wholly  abandoned.  The  army  marched 
to  Chaeroneia,  and  there  was  overthrown  by  that  fatal  defeat, 
with  the  loss  of  a  thousand  Athenian  citizens  —  and  of  the  lib- 
erty of  Greece. 

After  the  battle,  Demosthenes  returned  to  Athens,  and  was 
immediately  charged  with  the  duty  of  superintending  the  for- 
tifications, as  it  was  supposed  that  Philip  would  march  di- 
rectly upon  the  city  and  besiege  it.  As  he  did  not  take  this 
course,  a  general  system  of  repairs  was  adopted,  and  appropri- 
ations were  made  from  the  public  treasury,  Demosthenes  add- 
ing largely  from  his  own  private  resources.  He  was  elected 
by  the  people  to  pronounce  the  eulogy  on  those  who  fell  at 
Chaeroneia, — a  remarkable  fact,  when  it  is  considered  that 
this  disastrous  event  was,  in  one  sense,  the  result  of  his  policy, 
His  antagonists  and  personal  enemies  did  not  scruple  to  seize 
ihe  opportunity  of  assailing  him  by  every  form  which  the  laws 
of  Athens  allowed,  and  he  was  daily  harassed  by  the  attacks 
of  such    contemptible    persons   as   Sosicles,   Diondas,   Melan- 


DEMOSTHENES.  237 

thus,  and  other  sycophants,  in  the  interest,  if  not  in  the  pay, 
of  Macedonia,  and  then  swarming  in  the  city.  Their  object 
was  to  ruin  him  in  the  estimation  of  the  country,  by  mak- 
ing the  people  believe  that  he  had  been  a  traitor,  and  a 
bad  and  profligate  man  in  private,  and  that  he  deserved  the 
execrations  of  his  countrymen.  To  bring  the  matter  to  a 
point,  Ctesiphon,  a  political  friend  of  the  illustrious  statesman, 
moved  in  the  Senate  of  the  Five  Hundred,  that  a  golden  crown 
be  voted  to  Demosthenes,  in  token  of  the  public  appro1.);  ri  --  of 
the  fidelity  and  ability  with  which  he  had  served  his  country. 
This  was  one  of  the  ancient  forms  of  rewarding  great  civic 
merit.  The  motion  was  immediately  carried  in  the  Senate  ; 
but,  before  it  could  be  executed,  the  law  required  that  it  should 
also  pass  the  popular  assembly.  Another  provision  of  Attic 
law  permitted  any  citizen  to  arrest  a  legislative  act,  at  the  first 
stage,  by  prosecuting  the  author  of  it  for  unconstitutional  pro- 
ceeding. The  question  thus  raised  had  to  be  decided  by  due 
course  of  law,  before  the  proposed  measure  could  be  consum- 
mated. Availing  himself  of  this  provision,  iEschines,  the  leader 
of  the  Macedonian  party  at  Athens,  prosecuted  Ctesiphon  on 
what  was  technically  called  a  paranomon  graphe,  alleging  that 
the  laws  had  been  violated  in  three  points  ;  —  first,  by  propos- 
ing to  crown  a  still  accountable  officer;  secondly,  by  unlaw- 
fully changing  the  prescribed  place ;  and  thirdly,  the  most 
important  of  all,  by  proposing  to  crown  a  man  who  was  un- 
worthy of  public  respect. 

Ctesiphon  was  the  ostensible  object  of  the  prosecution ;  but 
everybody  knew  that  it  was  to  be  a  violent  attack  on  Demos- 
thenes. Demosthenes,  therefore,  appeared  in  court,  techni- 
cally as  of  counsel  for  Ctesiphon,  but  in  effect  to  defend  his 
own  public  and  private  life.  Ctesiphon  opened  the  defence, 
probably  in  a  brief  speech  pro  forma,  but  this  is  not  preserved. 
The  great  battle  was  fought  by  Demosthenes.  The  city  of 
Athens  was  crowded  by  a  concourse  of  visitors,  assembled  to 
witness  such  a  display  of  forensic  powers  as  never  was  seen 
before  or  since  ;  for  a  long  interval  —  seven  or  eight  years  — 


238  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS    OF   GREECE. 

had  occurred  between  the  entering  of  the  complaint  and  the 
trial,  and  the  points  of  the  case  had  been  generally  discussed, 
on  account  of  the  eminence  of  the  parties. 

Of  the  oration  delivered  by  jEschines  I  have  already  spoken 
as  undoubtedly  the  ablest  of  all  his  productions ;  but  it  was  far 
inferior  to  that  of  Demosthenes  in  force  and  cogency  of  argu- 
ment, in  severity  of  invective,  and  in  loftiness  of  moral  tone 
and  patriotic  spirit.  iEschines  not  only  failed  to  gain  his  point ; 
lie  received  not  one  fifth  of  the  votes,  nor  enough  to  save  him 
from  the  penalties  of  malicious  prosecution.  What  became  of 
him  was  related  in  the  last  Lecture. 

Philip  was  assassinated  in  336  B.  C,  two  years  after  the 
battle  of  Cha3roneia.  The  efforts  of  Demosthenes  to  form  a 
new  combination  against  Macedonia  were  defeated  by  the  un- 
expected energy  of  Alexander ;  and  the  destruction  of  Thebes, 
B.  C.  335,  was  the  last  warning  the  youthful  monarch  gave 
just  before  he  set  out  on  his  Eastern  campaign.  During  his 
absence  Greece  remained  in  quiet,  though  the  leaders  were 
watching  the  opportunity  for  another  outbreak.  The  arrival, 
B.  C.  325,  of  Harpalus,  whom  Alexander  had  left  in  Babylon 
in  charge  of  his  treasures,  and  who  had  proved  faithless  to  his 
trust,  gave,  as  some  thought,  the  desired  opportunity.  He 
brought  with  him  seven  or  eight  hundred  talents  of  the  royal 
gold,  and  asked  to  be  received  into  the  city ;  and  now,  as  I 
stated  in  speaking  of  Hyperides,  occurred  the  first  and  only 
break  in  the  political  concord  of  Demosthenes  and  Hyperi- 
des. The  latter  ardently  advocated  the  reception  of  Harpalus, 
and  the  employment  of  the  money  in  stirring  up  a  rebellion 
against  Alexander ;  the  former  opposed  it  as  rash,  and  danger- 
ous to  the  city.  No  doubt  he  recalled  the  fate  of  Thebes,  and 
anticipated  a  similar  doom  for  his  beloved  Athens,  foreseeing 
no  possibility  of  resisting  the  terrible  Macedonian,  should  he 
return  fierce  for  blood  and  flushed  with  his  Oriental  conquests. 
He  steadily  opposed  the  petition  of  Harpalus,  evidently  on  the 
best  of  grounds ;  but  when,  after  his  arrival,  the  money  was 
placed  in  the  city  treasury,  and  the  amount  of  it  was  found  to 


DEMOSTHENES  239 

be  much  less  than  the  sum  Harpalus  had  mentioned  on  hav- 
ing been,  at  the  suggestion  of  Demosthenes,  questioned  in  the 
assembly,  the  inquiry  was  instantly  started,  Who  could  have 
taken  it?  The  discrepancy  amounted  to  the  enormous  sum  of 
about  three  hundred  talents ;  and  every  public  man  became  at 
once  an  object  of  suspicion.  On  motion  of  Demosthenes  the 
investigation  of  the  subject  was  referred  to  the  Areopagus.  That 
body  spent  about  six  months  in  the  inquiry,  and  finally  made  a 
most  extraordinary  report,  in  which  they  mentioned  a  number 
of  names,  and  specified  the  sums  the  persons  bearing  them  had 
taken,  but  gave  no  facts  or  proofs  in  confirmation  of  their  state- 
ment. This  report  was  made  the  basis  of  legal  proceedings, 
and  Hyperides  was  appointed  one  of  the  prosecutors  of  those 
who  were  implicated  by  the  Areopagus.  The  case  was  tried, 
and  Demosthenes  was  condemned.  He  made  his  escape  from 
the  prison  to  which  he  was  first  committed,  with  the  conni- 
vance, it  is  thought,  of  the  magistrates,  and  passed  the  time  of 
his  exile  partly  at  Troezen,  and  partly  at  JEgina,  whence  he 
could  look  over  the  sea  to  the  shores  of  his  native  land.  As 
I  have  mentioned,  portions  of  the  oration  of  Hyperides  have 
lately  been  found,  —  evidently  the  main  points  of  the  accu- 
sation. Like  the  Areopagus,  he  furnishes  no  proof  whatever. 
His  great  argument  is  simply  the  report  of  the  Areopagus : 
"  That  you  received  the  gold,  I  consider  it  a  sufficient  proof 
for  the  jury  that  the  Areopagus  condemned  you."  Again : 
"  Permission  was  granted  them  to  return  the  gold ;  they  have 
not  restored  it,  and  what  are  we  to  do  with  them?  Let  them 
go  unpunished  ?  It  were  shameful,  judges,  thus  to  hazard  the 
safety  of  the  city." 

Mr.  Grote  has  carefully  examined  the  case,  and  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  the  report  of  the  Areopagus  and  the  verdict 
V  the  jury  were  both  political.  Both  bodies  dreaded  the  ven- 
geance of  Alexander ;  and  to  appease  his  formidable  wrath,  they 
selected  the  men  who  were  most  obnoxious  to  him,  and  con- 
temned them  without  proof,  as  a  kind  of  sacrifice  to  a  supposed 
political  necessity.     It  seems  to  me  that  this  is  the  true  view 


240  CONSTITUTIONS  A*D   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

of  the  case,  not  only  from  the  incorruptible  character  of  De 
mosthenes,  the  absence  of  every  particle  of  evidence,  and  the 
very  peculiar  turn  of  the  argument  of  Hyperides,  but  from  the 
fact  that,  after  the  death  of  Alexander,  the  two  orators  were 
found  in  cordial  co-operation  ;  that  the  Athenians  unanimously 
recalled  Demosthenes  from  exile  ;  that  he  was  brought  from 
^Egina  in  a  public  ship,  and  when  he  landed  at  the  Peiraeus 
was  met  by  crowds  of  Athenian  citizens  of  every  age,  with 
the  magistrates  of  the  city,  and  escorted,  with  every  demonstra- 
tion of  joy  and  affection,  to  his  home  ;  and  that  he  pronounced 
this  the  happiest  day  of  his  life,  which  he  assuredly  could  not 
have  done  had  he  been  conscious  of  guilt. 

Alas !  this  joy  was  but  transient.  The  defeat  of  the  new 
confederates  at  Crannon,  the  march  of  Antipater  and  Crate- 
rus  upon  Athens,  and  the  hard  terms  imposed  upon  the  con- 
quered city,  drove  the  patriotic  party  again  to  despair.  De- 
mosthenes and  his  friends  fled  from  Athens  to  such  places  of 
refuge  as  they  thought  might  protect  them  from  the  wrath  of 
the  conquering  barbarians.  The  temple  of  Neptune  at  Calau- 
reia,  a  little  inland  town  near  the  western  shore  of  the  Saronic 
Gulf,  was  selected  by  Demosthenes ;  but  the  sacredness  of  the 
asylum  did  not  shield  him  from  the  rage  of  Archias,  the  fugi- 
tive hunter,  —  the  brutal  officer  of  Antipater,  who  pursued  him 
to  his  retreat.  Demosthenes  was  the  only  one  of  the  patriots 
who  was  not  carried  alive  into  the  presence  of  the  tyrant, 
and  subjected  to  vindictive  tortures  by  the  enraged  miscreant 
whom  fortune  had  so  capriciously  favored.  Finding  himself 
wholly  at  the  mercy  of  his  enemies,  and  knowing  what  that 
mercy  meant,  he  escaped  their  vengeance  by  swallowing  poi- 
son, which  he  had  long  carried  about  his  person  ;  and  when  it 
began  to  take  effect,  he  rose  from  the  altar,  staggered  to  the 
door  in  order  not  to  pollute  the  temple  by  the  presence  of  a 
corpse,  and  fell  dead  upon  the  earth. 

The  greatest  of  his  orations,  the  greatest  speech  ever  deliv 
»red,  is  doubtless  his  Oration  on  the  Crown.  To  be  understood" 
fully  it  must  of  course  be  studied  long,  carefully,  and  in  the  in- 


DEMOSTHENES.  241 

comparable  original.  It  is  a  complete  and  most  triumphant  an- 
swer to  each  and  all  of  the  charges  of  JEschines ;  but,  of  course, 
he  dwells  the  longest  on  the  general  impeachment  of  his  char- 
acter. jEschines  had  declaimed  in  the  most  vehement  style, 
had  accused  him  of  all  kinds  of  vices,  especially  of  showing 
himself  a  coward  at  Chseroneia,  and  had  assumed  for  the  mo- 
ment the  tone  of  lofty  virtue  towards  the  object  of  his  hatred. 
"And,"  says  he,  —  "what  is  of  the  greatest  importance,  —  if 
the  young  men  ask  you  on  what  kind  of  model  they  must  form 
their  lives,  what  will  you  answer  ?  For  you  know  well,  men 
of  Athens,  that  neither  the  palaestrae,  nor  the  schools,  nor  liberal 
education,  can  train  the  young,  but  the  public  proclamation  far 
more.  A  man  of  unseemly  and  profligate  life  is  proclaimed  in 
the  theatre  as  crowned  for  his  virtue,  noble  conduct,  and  loy- 
alty ;  the  young,  seeing  this,  are  corrupted.  A  bad  and  infa- 
mous person,  like  Ctesiphon,  has  paid  the  penalty  of  his  vices ; 
the  young  are  instructed.  A  man,  having  rendered  a  verdict 
contrary  to  what  is  noble  and  just,  returning  home,  attempts  to 
give  his  son  a  lesson ;  but  the  youth  naturally  pays  no  heed  to 
him,  and  admonition  under  such  circumstances  is  justly  regarded 
as  an  annoyance.  Cast  your  votes,  then,  not  only  as  men  sit- 
ting in  judgment,  but  as  being  yourselves  the  objects  of  scru- 
tiny, that  you  may  have  a  defence  to  offer  to  those  citizens  who 
are  not  present,  but  who  will  question  you  upon  your  decision. 
For  you  know  well,  men  of  Athens,  that  the  city  will  appear  to 
be  of  such  a  character  as  is  the  man  who  is  crowned." 

On  the  charge  of  cowardice,  what  were  the  facts  ?  It  was 
originally  the  false  charge  of  two  political  enemies;  it  was 
copied  from  them  by  the  uncritical  Plutarch.  What  were 
the  facts?  Demosthenes,  after  having  by  his  able  diplomacy 
brought  about  the  alliance  with  Thebes,  notwithstanding  the 
artifices  and  the  power  of  Philip,  proceeded  to  organize  the 
confederated  army,  which  encountered  the  Macedonian  pha- 
Unx  on  the  fatal  field  of  Chaeroneia.  In  this  army  he  —  the 
statesman  at  the  head  of  affairs  —  volunteered  as  a  common 
soldier,  when  he   might   have   remained  at  Athens  without  a 

VOL.    II.  16 


242  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

word  of  censure.  Did  that  look  like  cowardice  ?  He  fought 
in  the  ranks,  and  he  was  not  killed.  Is  that  a  proof  that  he  fled 
like  a  poltroon  ?  His  escape  was  doubtless  much  to  the  cha- 
grin of  jEschines,  who  did  not  risk  his  own  life  against  the  foes 
of  his  country,  but  stayed  at  home  and  calumniated  those  who 
did.  Demosthenes  returned  to  Athens  from  that  disastrous 
field ;  and  how  did  the  people  of  Athens  receive  him  ?  What  did 
they  —  the  sufferers  —  do  and  say  ?  They  brought  their  gen 
eral  to  trial,  and  condemned  him.  They  appointed  Demosthe 
nes  superintendent  of  the  fortifications,  against  which  they  sup- 
posed Philip  would  bring  his  battering  engines  in  a  few  days, 
and  they  requested  him  to  deliver  the  funeral  oration  over  the 
ashes  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  the  battle.  Would  they  have 
placed  a  coward  in  charge  of  their  defences?  Would  they 
have  chosen  a  deserter  of  his  post  to  give  utterance  to  the  com- 
mon sorrow  for  the  death  of  companions  in  arms  whom  he  had 
left  to  perish  ?  The  questions  answer  themselves.  This  trib- 
ute, under  circumstances  which  would  have  made,  as  Demos- 
thenes himself  remarked,  some  popular  injustice  towards  their 
great  leader  not  unnatural,  is  mentioned  by  him  in  reply  to 
the  cruel  taunts  of  uEschines  with  a  touching  sensibility  and  a 
noble  pride.  And,  in  truth,  it  was  not  only  an  honor  in  which 
he  might  properly  exult,  but  an  act  which  sheds  eternal  lustre 
upon  the  Athenian  people. 

In  answer  to  personal  abuse  of  a  more  general  kind,  Demos- 
thenes says :  "  With  regard  to  his  abuse  and  slander  of  my  pri- 
vate life,  see  how  simple  and  just  is  my  reply.  If  you  know 
me  to  be  such  as  the  prosecutor  charged,  (I  have  lived  no- 
where but  among  you,)  do  not  listen  to  my  voice,  however 
excellent  may  have  been  my  public  measures,  but  rise  up  in- 
stantly and  give  your  verdict  against  me." 

jEschines  described  Demosthenes  as  a  sort  of  evil  demon, 
who  had  led  the  country  to  rum,  and  ruined  all  who  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  him.  Demosthenes  admits,  what  could  not  be 
denied,  that  the  results  were  disastrous  to  the  country ;  but 
standing  up  in  his  moral  dignity,  he  appealed  to  the  example* 


DEMOSTHENES.  243 

jf  the  past,  of  those  illustrious  heroes  who  had  laid  broad  and 
deep,  in  brave  deeds  and  generous  sacrifices,  the  foundations 
of  Athenian  glory.  Was  he,  the  Athenian  statesman,  with 
these  examples  before  him,  and  the  immortal  monuments  of 
their  renown  meeting  his  eye  in  whatever  direction  it  turned, 
the  Parthenon,  the  Propylsea,  the  memorial  statues  that  stood  in 
every  open  space  and  on  every  consecrated  height,  —  was  he, 
Demosthenes,  the  man  to  give  mean  and  cowardly  counsels  to 
such  a  city  because  struggles  and  perils  were  threatening? 
Was  he  to  sit  down  patiently  and  see  the  glories  of  Athens 
tarnished  by  an  ignoble  surrender  to  the  Macedonian  king? 
And  was  he  now — standing  before  his  countrymen,  impeached 
for  advocating  the  course  of  honor  —  to  vail  his  crest  because 
disaster  had  fallen  upon  their  arms?  What  says  he?  "Had 
the  future  been  evident  to  all,  had  all  foreseen  it,  had  you,  jEs- 
chines,  foretold  it  and  announced  it  with  outcries  and  exclama- 
tions,— you,  who  never  opened  your  lips, —  not  even  then  could 
the  city  have  withdrawn  from  this  course,  if  she  felt  any  con- 
cern for  glory,  or  for  ancestors,  or  for  the  coming  times.  Now, 
indeed,  she  is  regarded  as  having  failed,  which  is  the  common 
lot  of  all  mankind,  whenever  such  is  the  will  of  God  ;  but  in  the 
other  case,  claiming  to  stand  at  the  head  of  Greece,  and  then  de- 
serting the  post,  she  would  have  borne  the  reproach  of  having 
betrayed  all  to  Philip.  For  had  these  honors  been  surrendered 
without  a  struggle,  for  which  there  was  no  peril  our  ancestors 
did  not  undergo,  who  would  not  have  scorned — you  —  ^Eschi- 
nes,  not  the  city  or  me  ?  "  Again,  in  a  similar  strain  of  ex- 
alted morality,  he  says :  "  They  were  willing  to  expose  them- 
selves to  perils  for  glory  and  honor,  rightly  and  nobly  deciding. 
For  to  all  men  death  is  the  boundary  of  life,  even  if  one  should 
keep  himself  locked  in  a  cell ;  but  it  is  the  duty  of  good  men 
ever  to  aim  at  all  honorable  deeds,  and,  shielding  themselves 
with  hope,  to  bear  nobly  whatever  God  may  send.'' 

In  meeting  the  accusation  that  he  had  not  been  faithful  to 
.he  interests  of  his  country,  what  is  his  reply  ?  "  Neither  when 
demands  were  made  for  my  surrender,  nor  when  my  enemies 


244  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE 

harassed  me  with  Amphictyonic  prosecutions,  nor  when  they 
set  upon  me  these  wretches,  like  wild  beasts,  have  I  ever 
abandoned  my  loyal  attachment  to  you.  From  the  very  out- 
set, I  chose  this  upright  and  faithful  line  of  public  conduct^  to 
devote  myself  to  the  honor,  the  glory,  the  power  of  my  coun- 
try,—  these  to  enlarge,  with  these  to  have  my  being."  And 
again :  "  Neither  opportunities,  nor  flattering  speeches,  nor 
great  promises,  nor  hope,  nor  fear,  nor  any  other  thing,  ever 
tempted  me  or  led  me  on  to  betray  any  one  of  what  I  judged  to 
be  the  rights  and  interests  of  my  country."  And  his  country 
knew  that  he  spoke  the  truth. 

Perhaps  what  I  have  said  will  be  thought  sufficient  to  give 
an  idea  of  the  mind  and  character  of  the  man.  There  stands 
in  the  Nuovo  Braccio  of  the  Vatican  a  marble  statue,  the  no- 
blest portrait-statue  in  existence.  It  is  the  statue  of  Demos- 
thenes, in  the  act  of  addressing  a  court  or  assembly.  The 
nervous  temperament,  the  spare  figure,  the  exquisite  propor- 
tions of  the  head,  the  concentrated  fire  and  energy  in  the  brow 
and  lips,  the  earnest  bending  forward,  seeming  as  if  the  very 
marble  would  speak,  —  embody  the  character  of  the  great  ori- 
ginal with  such  wonderful  truth,  that  I  believe  the  visitor  who 
had  only  read  and  understood  the  Oration  on  the  Crown  would 
exclaim  before  he  saw  the  name,  "  There  stands  Demosthe- 
nes." The  nephew  of  the  orator,  — the  son  of  that  little  sister 
who  shared  his  orphanage,  —  a  statesman  too,  possessing  the 
patriotic  virtues  of  his  uncle,  with  a  similar  but  unequal  vein 
of  eloquence,  moved  in  the  assembly  to  erect  a  bronze  statue  to 
the  martyr  patriot,  and  spoke  his  eulogy  in  tones  that  stirred 
the  hearts  of  his  countrymen.  Cicero  wrote  frequently  to  his 
friend  Atticus  to  procure  statues  and  other  works  of  art  to 
decorate  his  Tusculan  villa,  to  which  he  often  retired  from  the 
noise  and  strife  of  Rome,  to  enjoy  the  society  of  his  beloved 
books  and  friends.  The  Demosthenes  of  the  Vatican  was 
found  at  no  great  distance  from  Tusculum ;  and  I  have  some- 
times pleased  myself  with  the  fancy  that  this  is  a  copy  of  the 
bronze  statue  in  the  Agora,  sent  to  Cicero  from  Athens,  anc 
once  adorning  his  tasteful  villa. 


DEMOSTHENES.  245 

Demosthenes  was  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  perfect  char- 
acters of  antiquity.  In  his  private  life  he  was  a  man  of  gentle 
feelings,  but  of  the  most  austere  virtue.  In  eating  he  was 
temperate ;  and  in  drinking  he  took  nothing  but  water,  for  which 
-ZEschines,  who  did  not  follow  his  example,  jeered  at  him.  On 
the  formation  of  his  style  he  bestowed  unwearied  pains.  From 
his  earliest  youth  to  the  last  oration  he  ever  spoke,  he  neveT 
ceased  to  give  the  profoundest  study  both  to  matter  and  to  form 
He  seldom  addressed  the  assembly  in  extemporaneous  speech, 
affirming  that  it  was  not  respectful  to  the  people  to  speak  to 
them  in  the  crude  language  of  the  moment ;  and  Pytheas,  one 
of  his  detractors,  used  to  say  that  his  orations  smelt  of  the 
lamp.  If  by  this  remark  the  critic  meant  to  say  that  the  style 
of  the  great  orator  was  too  labored,  or  overloaded  with  orna- 
ment, or  artificial  and  formal,  nothing  can  be  more  unfounded. 
Demosthenes  studied,  first,  to  make  his  thoughts  clear,  cohe- 
rent, and  logical ;  and  next,  to  mould  his  language  into  the 
most  absolutely  transparent  medium  of  thought.  In  his  man- 
ner of  speaking,  such  as  it  became  after  he  had  conquered  the 
awkwardness  of  his  early  attempts,  he  was  like  one  inspired. 
When  JEschines  read  to  his  pupils  in  Rhodes  the  Oration  on 
the  Crown,  and  they  were  filled  with  admiration,  he  said, 
"  What  would  you  do  if  you  heard  the  beast  deliver  it 
himself?" 

He  begins  in  a  moderate  tone,  and  with  undeniable  propo- 
sitions ;  he  warms  with  the  subject ;  he  reasons  writh  compact 
and  irresistible  force  ;  a  burst  of  impassioned  eloquence  electri- 
fies the  assembly ;  the  forms  of  the  mighty  dead  seem  starting 
from  their  tombs  in  the  Cerameicus,  to  stand  before  him  in 
answer  to  his  vehement  apostrophe  ;  the  august  image  of  his 
beloved  country,  wrhile  his  memory  recalls  her  glorious  historv 
and  his  eye  wanders  over  the  memorials  of  her  great  achieve- 
ments, becomes  a  living  presence  to  his  excited  imagination. 
The  language  grows  more  simple,  while  the  meaning  deepens, 
and  the  passion  kindles  into  a  fiercer  flame.  What  can  resist 
this  reasoning,  this  power,  this  honesty,  th*»  enthusiasm,  thia 


246*  CONSTITUTIONS   AND   ORATORS   OF   GREECE. 

passion,  this  profound  sagacity?  Not  the  heart  of  man  in  Ath- 
ens, not  the  heart  of  man  in  Boston,  not  the  heart  of  man 
wherever  genius  is  admired,  patriotism  cherished,  virtue  es- 
teemed, or  martyrdom  held  in  honor. 

Looking  back  on  the  history  of  Athens,  three  majestic  fig- 
ures stand  before  us  ;  —  Solon,  the  founder  of  her  Constitu- 
tion ;  Pericles,  who  stands  on  the  pinnacle  of  her  renown  ; 
Demosthenes,  the  last  and  greatest,  who,  like  the  sinking  sun, 
sheds  his  glory  upon  her  fall ;  —  the  beginning,  the  middle, 
and  the  end  of  the  greatest  historical  tragedy  ever  enacted  on 
the  theatre  of  the  world. 


FOURTH     COURSE. 


MODERN    GREECE. 


It  will  be  seen  that  a  large  part  of  this  Course  relates  to  events  that 
tall  within  the  conventional  scope  of  ancient  history,  i  et  we  have  pre- 
ferred to  retain  the  author's  designation  of  Modern  Greece ;  lor  to  the 
Philhellene  the  Macedonian  conquest,  as  obliterating  "  Greece  of  the 
Greeks,"  marks  the  only  sharply  dividing  line  in  Grecian  history,  until 
the  release  oi  a  portion  of  Hellas  from  foreign  rule  by  the  revolution 
of  the  present  century.  —  Editor. 


LECTURE  I. 

INTRODUCTION.  —  THE  GREEK  REVOLUTION.  —  CHARACTER 
OF  THE  MODERN  GREEKS.  —  CHARACTER  OF  THE  TURKS. 

A  correspondence  has  recently  taken  place  between  the 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  at  Athens,  on  the  one  side,  and 
Mr.  Marcy,  the  Secretary  of  State,  and  the  Reverend  Jonas 
King,  acting  Consul  of  the  United  States,  on  the  other.  The 
subject  of  this  correspondence  is  the  transmission  of  a  block  of 
marble  from  the  ruins  of  the  Parthenon  for  the  Washington 
Monument.  The  tone  in  which  the  Greek  Minister  expresses 
his  own  sentiments,  and  those  of  his  government  and  country, 
towards  the  United  States  and  the  memory  of  our  illustrious 
founder,  is  such  as  must  stir  the  heart  of  this  great  nation,  and 
re-establish  the  mutual  respect  and  good-will  which,  for  a  mo- 
ment interrupted  by  diplomatic  difficulties,  are  too  natural  and 
too  congenial  with  the  character  of  both  nations  not  to  be  care- 
fully cherished.  "  Greece,"  says  the  eloquent  Pericles  Argy- 
ropoulos,  in  a  strain  not  unworthy  the  name  he  bears,  "  Greece 
has  never  forgotten  the  noble  sympathy  manifested  towards 
her  by  the  American  nation  at  the  time  of  her  Revolution. 
Full  of  gratitude  and  of  friendship,  she  has  always  watched 
with  the  deepest  interest  the  wonderful  progress  which  has 
been  in  every  respect  achieved  by  a  people  to  which  she  feels 
attached  by  the  most  indissoluble  ties.  It  is  under  the  influ- 
ence of  these  sentiments  that  his  Majesty's  government,  faith- 
ful interpreter  of  the  national  wish,  being  desirous  to  testify  in 
a  solemn  manner  its  ver.eration  for  the  memory  of  the  illus- 
trious Washington,  has  caused  to  be  transmitted  to  Mr.  King, 
acting  Consul  of  the  United  States  at  Athens,  a  block  of  mar- 


250  MODERN   GREECE. 

ble  taken  from  the  very  ruins  of  the  Parthenon,  in  order  that 
it  may  serve  to  adorn,  however  humbly,  the  monument  des- 
tined to  perpetuate  the  remembrance  of  the  great  founder  of 
American  independence." 

In  his  reply,  Mr.  Marcy  writes :  "  The  announcement  of 
this  noble  present,  accompanied  as  it  is  by  tones  of  friendship 
so  emphatic  and  acceptable,  cannot  fail  to  be  highly  appre- 
ciated by  the  President  and  people  of  the  United  States." 

The  King,  in  sanctioning  the  proposal  of  the  Minister  of  the 
Interior  and  of  Education,  says :  "Asa  proof  of  the  gratitude 
of  the  nation  towards  the  United  States,  we  order  that  this 
stone,  with  the  advice  of  the  Superintendent  of  Antiquities,  be 
taken  from  the  ancient  ruins  of  the  Parthenon,  and  that  on  it  be 
engraved  a  suitable  inscription,  which  the  Faculty  of  the  Uni- 
versity shall  propose." 

How  singular  the  combination  of  ideas  which  this  corre- 
spondence suggests !  The  Parthenon  stands  the  crowning 
work  of  the  architecture  of  all  ages,  decorated  by  the  most 
perfect  sculptures  of  Pheidias  and  his  school, — the  glory  of 
the  administration  of  Pericles,  —  the  wonder  of  all  Greece 
and  of  the  ancient  world,  —  having  resisted  the  silent  wear 
of  three-and-twenty  centuries,  the  active  agencies  of  war  and 
barbarism,  and,  worse  than  all  the  rest,  of  foreign  amateurship, 
•  —  at  this  day  rising  into  the  translucent  air  of  Attica,  vener- 
able with  the  tints  of  antiquity,  or  shining  with  a  golden  light 
as  the  setting  sun  pours  his  level  beams  through  the  transfig- 
ured columns  ;  the  most  harmonious,  the  most  affecting  mon- 
ument of  ancient  civilization,  —  the  most  impressive  in  the 
pathos  of  its  decaying  beauty,  and  in  the  silent  majesty  of  its 
dominion  over  the  incomparable  scenery  which  Nature  in  an 
ecstatic  hour  of  her  loveliness  grouped  around  the  Acropolis. 
These  marble  blocks  were  quarried  from  yonder  mountain, 
whose  unexhausted  mines  have  furnished  the  materials  for 
King  OtLo's  palace.  Along  the  original  track,  not  yet  oblit- 
erated, still  lie  fragments  left  there  by  the  ancient  workmen 
some  rough,  and  others  hewn  into  form,  apparently  destined 


INTRODUCTION.  251 

for  the  temples  ou  the  Acropolis.  The  great  statesman  of  the 
most  glorious  age  of  the  Athenian  Republic  no  doubt  person- 
ally superintended  the  structure  which  his  genius  called  into 
being.  That  Pericles  took  constant  cognizance  of  the  details  of 
the  industrial  operations  performed  under  his  auspices  is  shown 
by  the  anecdote  told  by  Plutarch,  that,  one  of  the  builders  hav- 
ing met  with  an  accident  by  falling  from  a  staging,  Pericles 
was  so  concerned  by  what  had  happened,  that  it  occupied  his 
thoughts  by  night,  and  that  the  goddess  Athene,  appearing 
to  him,  suggested  a  cure,  which  on  trial  proved  successful. 
Grateful  for  the  restoration  of  the  workman,  Pericles  caused 
a  stalue  to  be  consecrated  on  the  Acropolis  to  Athene  as  the 
goddess  of  the  healing  art.  The  basis  of  that  same  statue  the 
traveller  has  the  pleasure  of  seeing,  on  the  spot  designated  by 
Plutarch,  and  he  may  read  the  inscription,  still  legible,  though 
but  recently  disencumbered  from  the  mass  of  rubbish  which 
had  hidden  it  for  many  centuries.  It  is  not  at  all  improbable 
that  the  keen  eye  of  Pericles  scanned  the  very  block  of  marble 
which  another  Pericles  has  now  sent  four  thousand  miles  to  an- 
other hemisphere,  then  unknown  except  in  the  dream  of  the 
lost  Atlantis,  to  decorate  a  monument  to  one  more  illustrious 
even  than  he  who  gave  his  name  to  his  age. 

There  are  many  things  which  naturally  tend  to  international 
sympathy  between  us  and  the  Greeks.  In  the  first  place,  the 
tie  of  a  common  civilization,  which  binds  the  educated  minds  of 
all  countries  to  the  mighty  memories  of  ancient  Greece  as  the 
parent  of  letters,  science,  and  arts,  includes  the  intellect  of  Amer- 
ica in  the  general  union.  In  the  next  place,  the  principles  of 
civil  liberty,  constitutional  government,  and  popular  legislation 
were  first  developed  by  the  genius  —  as  remarkable  for  political 
wisdom  as  for  adaptation  to  the  fine  arts — of  that  people.  For, 
when  we  consider  the  legislation  of  Solon,  the  germs  it  con- 
tains, and  the  influence  it  had  on  government,  first  at  Rome, 
and  then,  through  Rome's  organizing  capacity,  upon  the  prin- 
cipal nations  of  modern  Europe,  it  must  be  admitted  that, 
however  much  we  have  improved  upon  the  ancient  Greeks  in 


252  MODERN   GREECE. 

the  practical  adaptation  of  principles,  we  have  added  scarcely 
one  to  the  principles  of  government  they  discovered.  Perhaps 
some  persons  will  think  the  better  of  the  ancient  Greeks  when 
they  hear  that  our  political  maxim,  "  To  the  victors  belong  the 
spoils,"  is  only  a  literal  translation  of  a  sentence  in  Xenophon. 
The  Attic  Constitution  was  built  up  on  the  foundation  of  popu- 
lar sovereignty.  In  the  course  of  time  the  original  limitations 
were  nearly  all  removed,  and  the  Constitution  became  the  em- 
bodiment of  democratic  rule,  exercised  through  the  established 
laws :  for  it  was  a  noble  thought,  nobly  uttered  by  one  of  the 
wisest  of  the  ancient  sages,  that  the  magistrate  is  the  servant  of 
the  law,  and  not  of  the  people  ;  and  an  early  orator,  in  draw- 
ing the  line  between  democracies  on  the  one  side,  and  oligar- 
chies and  monarchies  on  the  other,  says  that  the  latter  are  gov- 
erned according  to  the  wills  and  characters  of  those  who  are 
placed  at  the  head,  while  the  former  are  ruled  by  established 
laws.  The  Attic  Constitution  recognized  the  principle  of  popu- 
lar elections,  and  the  responsibility  of  magistrates  to  the  people. 
It  guaranteed  the  right  of  trial  by  jury,  and  the  freedom  of  the 
citizen  from  arrest  except  by  due  process  of  law.  Again,  the 
legislation  by  two  bodies,  one  wholly  popular  and  the  othei 
select,  —  the  concurrent  action  of  the  two  being  necessary  to 
the  validity  of  a  legislative  measure,  —  so  early  established  in 
Athens,  marks  a  refinement  of  political  wisdom  not  yet  reached 
by  some  nations  which  consider  themselves  as  standing  at  the 
head  of  modern  civilization.  The  late  French  Republic,  for 
instance,  committed  the  error  of  adopting  a  single  legislative 
chamber ;  and  this,  as  much  perhaps  as  any  other  single  cir- 
cumstance, led  to  the  half-ludicrous,  half-tragic  catastrophe 
which  terminated  its  brief  career,  and  placed  it  in  the  power 
of  the  able  but  unscrupulous  President  to  reconstruct  on  its 
ruins,  and  on  the  bodies  of  citizens  slaughtered  in  the  streets  of 
Paris,  the  imperial  throne.  Again,  our  principle  of  autonomy, 
or  local  self-government,  was  the  cardinal  principle  of  the  com- 
monwealths of  ancient  Greece,  though  the  glory  of  perfecting 
its  development  belongs  to  modern  political  science  and  to  th*» 
founders  of  the  American  Republic. 


THE   GREEK  REVOLUTION.  253 

The  absorption  of  Greece  into  the  Roman  Empire  has  no 
parallel  in  the  circumstances  of  a  nation  which  has  separated 
itself  from  the  Roman  Empire  of  the  modern  world.  Nor  have 
we  anything  in  our  history  parallel  to  the  Byzantine  epoch, 
still  less  to  the  disastrous  period  of  subjection  to  the  Turks. 
The  war  of  the  Greek  Revolution  was  of  similar  duration  tc 
our  own ;  but  how  unlike  the  conditions !  how  unequal  the 
sufferings !  We  were  three  thousand  miles  away  from  our 
antagonist;  and  received  his  armies  into  our  extensive  coun- 
try, inhabited  by  a  people  trained  in  the  discipline  of  liberty, 
and  struggling  for  the  inalienable  rights  of  British  subjects 
They  rose  up  from  four  centuries  of  slavery  under  the  imbrut- 
ing  despotism  of  a  barbarous  conqueror,  of  a  religion  totally  at 
war  with  the  fundamental  principles  of  European  civilization, 
of  a  race  which,  having  possessed  the  fairest  regions  of  the  East- 
ern world,  has  reduced  them  to  deserts,  and  added  nothing 
to  science  and  letters,  nothing  to  culture  or  humanity ;  they 
fought  through  a  war  of  unexampled  cruelty  on  the  part  of  the 
invader ;  they  endured  unheard-of  extremities  of  fortune  in 
captivity  and  under  torture,  or,  in  their  own  land,  shelterless, 
without  food,  dwelling  in  caverns  among  the  rocks,  eating 
acorns,  roots,  leaves,  grass,  —  bearing  all  these  horrors  without 
complaint,  and  fairly  exhausting  the  ferocious  courage  of  their 
assailants  by  the  passive  fortitude  with  which  they  breasted 
it.  We  had  the  support  of  a  powerful  constitutional  party 
in  England,  represented  by  the  most  eloquent  leaders  in  the 
Lords  and  Commons,  and  the  alliance  and  active  aid  of  one  of 
the  most  civilized  and  powerful  among  the  nations.  They 
tvere  frowned  upon  by  the  cabinets  of  Europe,  though  the  peo- 
ple sympathized  with  them.  Political  interests  were  all  against 
>hem,  thougn  many  noble  men  hurried  to  their  assistance,  and 
cheered  them  on  by  fighting  at  their  side  and  contributing  sup- 
plies to  meet  their  pressing  wants.  The  battle  of  Navarino  was 
lamented  by  the  English  government,  and  the  Turk  was  affec- 
tionately alluded  to  as  "  our  ancient  ally."  The  early  attempts 
to  readjust  the  affairs  of  the  East  by  the  Great  Powers  did  not 


254  MODERN   GREECE. 

contemplate  the  separation  of  any  part  of  Greece  from  Turkey, 
but  only  an  arrangement  of  pacification  and  qualified  indepen- 
dence, acknowledging  the  Sultan  as  lord  paramount,  and  fixing 
a  large  annual  tribute  to  be  paid  into  his  treasury.  When  at 
length  this  system  could  not  be  made  to  work,  and  it  was  found 
necessary  to  establish  an  independent  kingdom,  the  boundary 
lines  were  so  drawn  as  to  exclude  some  of  the  most  fertile  parts 
of  Greece,  and  to  include  considerably  less  than  a  million  of 
inhabitants ;  the  object  being  to  weaken  Turkey  as  little  as  pos- 
sible, and  to  prevent  a  new  and  powerful  state  from  growing  up 
in  that  part  of  Europe,  which  might  tend  to  disturb  the  Euro- 
pean balance.  Thessaly,  Epeirus,  and  Macedonia  were  left  still 
under  the  Turkish  yoke ;  and  Crete,  the  most  valuable  of  the 
islands  in  the  Levant,  after  having  borne  her  full  share  of  the 
sufferings  of  the  war,  was  surrendered  to  the  tender  mercies  of 
the  Pacha  of  Egypt,  under  certain  guaranties,  wrhich,  with  Ori- 
ental perfidy,  were  remorselessly  and  bloodily  violated  almost 
before  the  ink  was  dry  on  the  parchment  which  confirmed  the 
power  of  the  ruthless  tyrant  under  whom  the  ancient  land  of 
the  Pharaohs  so  long  groaned. 

It  was  not  unnatural  that,  under  these  circumstances,  the 
great  heart  of  the  American  people  should  have  throbbed  with 
sympathy  for  the  Hellenic  race.  That  noble  Philhellene,  Dr. 
Howe,  whose  life  has  been  consecrated  to  the  service  of  the 
suffering  and  forlorn,  spoke  and  acted  the  universal  sentiment 
of  the  nation.  The  most  eloquent  voice  ever  heard  in  our 
land  —  that  voice  now  hushed  in  death  —  gave  expression  to 
the  strong  feeling  of  the  country  in  a  speech  which  can  never 
cease  to  charm  by  its  generous  spirit  and  admirable  style  ;  in 
these  respects  scarcely  falling  short  of  the  masterly  models 
handed  down  from  the  brilliant  days  of  the  Athenian  Republic. 
The  most  classical  pen  of  our  age  was  devoted  to  the  same  stir- 
ring interest  through  the  pages  of  the  North  American  Review, 
in  which  all  the  resources  of  comprehensive  and  elegant  schol- 
arship, clothed  in  the  rarest  beauties  of  written  eloquence,  were 
addressed  to  the  Christian  philanthropy  and  the  literary  sympa 


THE   GREEK   REVOLUTION.  255 

thies  of  our  citizens.  Contributions  of  money,  provisions,  and 
clothing  were  hastened  to  those  classic  shores  from  our  cities 
and  towns,  and  saved  thousands  from  the  horrors  of  destitu- 
tion and  starvation.  The  ruins  of  the  humble  building  on 
the  Isthmus  of  Corinth,  where  Dr.  Howe  distributed  these 
charities  to  the  haggard  multitudes  that  came  down  in  their 
raggedness  and  misery  from  their  mountain  dens,  were  scarcely 
less  interesting  to  me,  in  the  solitude  of  the  Isthmian  forest, 
than  the  classic  ruins  which  give  a  mournful  beauty  to  the  hills 
and  plains  of  Hellas.  Let  me  add,  that,  in  the  earliest  attempts 
to  form  a  provisional  government  for  revolutionary  Greece,  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  translated  into  Greek,  served 
as  a  copy  and  guide  to  the  lawgivers.  The  battle  of  Navarino, 
which  settled  the  fortunes  of  the  contest  in  favor  of  Hellas  at 
the  moment  when  her  cause  seemed  hopeless,  and  which  was 
pronounced  by  the  Duke  of  Wellington  "  an  untoward  event," 
shot  an  electric  thrill  through  this  country ;  and  I  well  remem- 
ber meeting  a  distinguished  lawyer  in  a  neighboring  State,  a 
man  not  usually  carried  away  by  enthusiastic  feeling,  just  after 
he  had  read  an  account  of  the  battle,  and  the  first  words  he  ut- 
tered were,  "  Hallelujah  !  hallelujah !  for  the  Lord  God  Om- 
nipotent reigneth."  So  different  was  the  American  sentiment 
from  that  of  the  Iron  Duke,  and  of  his  master,  that  pattern  of 
all  princely  virtues,  —  George  the  Fourth.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  reciprocal  feelings  of  the  Greeks  were  strongly  manifested, 
in  1825,  by  the  proposal  formally  made  to  the  United  States  to 
send  a  fleet  into  the  Mediterranean,  with  one  of  our  leading 
statesmen,  who  should  assume  the  office  of  legislator  or  dictator 
on  the  summons  of  the  Greek  nation.  And  this  proposal  was 
made  to  us  because  —  to  use  the  words  of  the  letter  that  con- 
tained it  —  they  suspected  the  motives  of  the  English,  and 
shuddered  at  the  despotic  aims  of  the  Holy  Alliance,  whose 
members  had  hoped  that  the  insurrection  would  be  suppressed 
by  Ibrahim  Pacha  and  his  Egyptian  hordes. 

Now,  was  the  cause  of  this  self-emancipating  nation  worthy 
of  hearty  sympathy  ?     Did  the  Greeks  then,  and  do  they  now, 


256  MODERN   GREECE. 

deserve  the  support  of  the  civilized  nations  ?  Many  accusations 
have  been  brought  against  this  people,  from  ancient  times  to 
the  present  moment.  They  have  been  pronounced  false,  fickle, 
treacherous,  cowardly,  not  to  be  relied  upon  either  in  word  or 
deed ;  and  the  charges  have  been  recently  summed  up  by  desig- 
nating them  as  a  nation  of  liars  and  bigots.  The  charactor  of 
every  nation  that  has  ever  existed  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  is  a 
mixed  one.  A  single  color,  or  several  dark  colors,  will  seldom 
produce  a  faithful  likeness.  I  think  there  has  always  been  an 
Oriental  trait  of  intrigue  in  the  Greek  character ;  and  yet  what 
illustrious  exceptions  history  records  in  Socrates,  Plato,  Aristei- 
des,  Demosthenes,  and,  in  our  days,  in  Marco  and  Constantine 
Botzares,  and  in  Mavrocordatos  !  The  ingenious  fibs  which 
Ulysses,  in  the  Odyssey,  has  ever  at  command,  are  supposed  to 
be  characteristic  of  the  Greeks  in  all  ages ;  and  the  smiling  ap- 
probation with  which  the  very  goddess  of  wisdom  listens  to  his 
glibly  spoken  inventions  is  imagined  to  go  even  deeper  into  the 
essential  nature  of  the  Greek.  Those  who  make  so  much  out 
of  this  trait  of  the  hero  of  Homer's  immortal  tale  forget  to  re- 
mind us  that  the  same  poet  has  put  into  the  mouth  of  Achilles, 
the  favorite  hero  of  the  nation,  the  very  energetic  words :  — 

"  Who  dares  think  one  thing  and  another  tell, 
My  soul  abhors  him  as  the  gates  of  hell." 

Juvenal,  the  Roman  satirist,  in  a  passage  often  quoted  says :  — 

"  Creditur  olim 
Velificatus  Athos,  et  quicquid  Grsecia  mendax 
Audet  in  historia,"  — 

"  It  is  believed  that  Athos  was  once  sailed  through,  and  what- 
ever lying  Greece  dares  in  history."  The  epithet  has  often 
been  repeated  by  those  who  were  not  aware  that  the  statement 
cited  by  the  poet  is  true  ;  that  traces  of  the  canal  cut  by  Xerxes 
across  the  peninsula  still  exist,  and  prove  not  only  that  Juvenal 
was  mistaken,  but  that  Xerxes  was  quite  justified,  on  pruden- 
ial  grounds,  for  undertaking  this  work  —  no  very  difficult  one 
— for  the  safety  and  convenience  of  his  fleet.     Indeed,  one  of 


THE   GREEK   REVOLUTION.  257 

the  greatest  improvements  to  the  navigation  of  that  region  — 
and  it  would  not  be  a  very  costiy  operation  —  would  be  to 
clear  this  very  canal  from  the  earth  and  rubbish  which  in  the 
course  of  ages  have  choked  it  up.  But  the  Turks  entertain 
constitutional  objections  against  internal  improvements. 

The  later  Romans  were  fond  of  satirizing  the  Greeks  as 
"Grasculi  esurientes,"  and  the  like;  but  the  best  minds  of 
Rome  —  Cicero,  Atticus,  Virgil,  and  Horace — cherished  warm 
friendship  for  the  Greek  masters  to  whom  they  were  indebted 
for  their  intellectual  culture.  For  many  centuries  Athens  was 
the  university  in  which  the  noblest  of  the  Roman  youth  com- 
pleted their  education.  If  we  judge  of  a  people  by  the  spirit 
of  their  philosophy,  I  think  the  Greeks  of  old  need  fear  a 
comparison  with  no  other  nation  whatsoever.  No  doubt  the 
character  of  the  people  degenerated  under  the  domination  of 
Roman  Proconsuls ;  and  they  learned  the  arts  of  dissimulation 
and  the  trick  of  fawning  practised  by  subjects  towards  a  domi- 
neering race.  The  vices  of  Byzantium,  after  the  Eastern  and 
Western  Empires  were  separated,  reached  and  corrupted  the 
heart  of  the  nation.  And  when  the  Turks,  having  captured 
Constantinople,  and  overrun  the  provinces  with  their  barbarous 
hordes,  subjected  them  to  their  brutal  sway,  the  Greeks  were 
infected  with  the  plague  of  slavery,  and  lost,  no  doubt,  much 
of  the  integrity  of  their  character.  But  the  constancy  with 
which  they  clung  to  the  Christian  Church  during  those  four 
centuries  of  misery  and  political  annihilation  ;  their  immovable 
faithfulness  to  their  nationality  under  intolerable  oppression  ;  the 
intellectual  superiority  they  never  failed  to  exhibit  over  their 
tyrants ;  the  love  of  hu»nane  letters,  which  they  never,  in  all 
their  sorrows,  lost ;  and  the  wise  preparation  they  made  for  the 
struggle  by  means  of  schools,  and  by  the  circulation  of  editions 
uf  their  own  ancient  authors  and  translations  of  the  most  in- 
Ltructive  works  in  modern  literature,  —  show  that  the  national 
tharacter  was  sound  at  tne  core. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  qualities  they  displayed  during 
the  conflict.     I  do  not  know,  in  the  history  of  the  human  race, 

VOL.    II.  17 


258  MODERN   GREECE. 

a  more  illustrious  chapter.  The  old  renown  of  Marathon,  and 
Salamis,  and  Thermopylae  is  founded  on  no  more  glorious  deeds 
than  were  achieved  in  repelling  the  armies  of  the  Turks.  As  I 
wandered  among  the  wild  and  noble  scenery  where  still  stands 
the  mound  of  Leonidas  and  his  immortal  three  hundred,  on 
which  the  Spartan  inscription  long  since  disappeared  from  the 
vision  to  live  eternally  in  the  memory  of  mankind,  the  heroic- 
form  of  another — a  modern  Leonidas — rose  before  me,  side  by 
side  with  the  Spartan  and  his  little  band,  as  no  less  worthy  of 
deathless  fame  than  the  three  hundred.  Among  the  first  who 
fell  for  their  country's  independence  was  the  gallant  chief  Dia- 
kos,  who,  with  a  few  followers,  stood  against  the  infidel  hosts 
of  Omer  Vriones,  at  the  entrance  of  that  same  narrow  pass. 
All  were  slain  or  taken  prisoners.  Diakos  was  among  the 
latter.  He  was  brought  into  the  presence  of  the  Turkish  Bey, 
and  questioned  closely  with  regard  to  the  insurrection.  He 
replied,  "  All  Greece  is  resolved  to  be  free  or  to  perish  in  the 
attempt."  His  life  was  offered  him  on  condition  of  entering 
the  Turkish  service.  Of  course  he  refused.  "  I  will  put  you 
to  death,"  said  the  Pacha,  "  unless  you  join  me."  "  Greece," 
answered  the  hero,  "  will  lose  but  one ;  she  has  many  a  Diakos 
besides  me."  With  characteristic  cruelty  the  Turks  resolved 
to  impale  him  alive  ;  and,  with  a  refinement  of  torture  which 
reminds  us  of  the  most  awful  tragedy  ever  enacted  on  this 
earth,  they  made  him  bear  the  instrument  of  his  own  death. 
As  he  walked  thus  shamefully  burdened  to  the  place  of  execu- 
tion, he  cast  a  look  about  him  upon  the  face  of  nature,  all 
smiling  with  the  beauty  of  spring,  —  strange  contrast  to  the 
bloody  work  of  human  hands,  —  and  repeated,  from  one  of  the 
old  ballads  of  the  country,  — 

Behold  the  time  that  Charon  chose  to  take  me  from  the  living ! 

The  boughs  are  blooming  now  with  flowers,  the  earth  puts  forth  its  herbage,"  — 

and  then  for  three  hours  he  bore  with  unshaken  soul  the 
agonizing  death  they  inflicted  on  him. 

The  course  of  the  Hellenic  kingdom  has,  indeed,  disappointed 
the  expectations  of  many  of  the  best  friends  of  Greece  ;  and  it 


CHARACTER   OF   THE   MODERN    GREEKS.  259 

is  no  uncommon  tiling  to  hear  the  same  language  of  contempt 
and  condemnation  applied  to  it  which  was  used  by  Byron 
and  others  who  visited  it  while  it  was  still  a  Turkish  prov 
ince.  "  They  are  all  scoundrels,"  said  a  French  agent  at  Ga- 
lixidhi  to  me  ;  "  the  best  kind  of  government  for  them  was  the 
Turkish  ;  they  are  fit  only  to  be  slaves,  to  receive  the  bastinado 
every  day,  and  to  have  their  heads  chopped  off  if  they  resist." 
What  had  excited  the  anger  of  the  fiery  Gaul  I  did  not  learn ; 
but  I  could  not  help  smiling  at  this  summary  putting  down 
of  a  whole  people,  from  the  experience  he  had  had  in  his  ac- 
quaintance with  a  few  Hellenic  vagabonds  at  an  insignificant 
steamboat  station. 

From  the  accounts  of  many  travellers  one  might  infer  that 
the  entire  Greek  people  are  a  body  of  robbers,  pirates,  and 
swindlers.  It  was  the  frank  admission  of  an  English  trader  in 
the  Levant,  that  he  liked  the  Turks  better  than  the  Greeks, 
because  he  could  cheat  them  more  easily ;  and  I  dare  say  that 
this  is  the  kind  of  philosophy  which  dictates  not  a  little  of 
the  harsh  judgment  passed  upon  this  people.  It  does  not,  how- 
ever, follow  that,  because  some  Greeks  are  rogues,  therefore 
all  Greeks  are  rogues;  because  some  Greeks  are  pirates,  there- 
fore all  Greeks  are  pirates ;  because  some  Greeks  are  Mephts, 
or  robbers,  therefore  all  Greeks  are  robbers.  We  must  re- 
member that  many  of  the  most  eminent  commercial  houses 
in  England,  France,  Italy,  and  Germany,  and  nearly  all  the 
most  eminent  on  the  East  of  the  Mediterranean,  are  Greeks, 
whose  transactions  embrace  the  world,  and  whose  liberality  has 
showered  down  benefits  on  the  country  of  their  birth,  in  the 
establishment  of  schools,  the  endowment  of  colleges,  the  print- 
ing and  circulating  of  books,  and  in  every  way  of  doing  good 
that  an  enlightened  zeal  can  suggest. 

The  Greek  peasant,  according  to  my  experience,  is  sim- 
ple-hearted, almost  childlike,  and  hospitable  after  the  man- 
ner of  the  heroic  ages.  He  is  intelligent,  docile,  grateful  for 
kindness,  unselfish,  except  where  he  has  been  exposed  to  the 
corrupting  influence  of  foreign  travellers,  to  whom  mainly  it 


260  MODERN  GREECE. 

is  due  that  he  is  sometimes  cunning,  mercenary,  and,  as  far  as 
he  can  be,  extortionate.  But  in  this  disagreeable  aspect  of 
his  character,  he  only  practises  on  a  small  scale  what  hirelings 
in  other  parts  of  Europe  practise  on  a  large  scale.  The  stranger, 
for  example,  who  visits  Oxford,  undergoes  a  severer  process 
of  extortion  in  a  single  hour  from  the  obsequious  underlings  of 
that  wealthy  University,  who  are  allowed  to  pick  the  visitor's 
pocket  at  the  rate  of  about  a  shilling  a  minute,  than  he  would 
be  subjected  to  in  traversing  Greece  from  one  extremity  to  the 
other.  The  Oriental  bakshish,  which  is  the  burden  of  the  com- 
plaints against  the  inhabitants  of  the  East  in  England,  is  trans- 
lated into  "  Please  remember  the  waiter,"  with  this  difference, 
that  the  remembrance  of  one  English  waiter  costs  the  traveller 
as  much  as  would  satisfy  an  Arab  sheik,  the  lineal  representative 
of  Father  Abraham,  and  all  his  bearded  retinue.  In  a  journey 
of  twenty-one  days  through  the  interior,  two  attempts  only  were 
made  to  cheat  us,  —  one  by  a  priest  at  Bodenitza,  near  Ther- 
mopylae, the  other  by  the  Demarch,  or  mayor,  of  Sophiko,  near 
the  Isthmus  of  Corinth ;  and  in  three  months  at  Athens,  only 
one  abnormal  assault  was  made  upon  my  pocket.  A  barber, 
taking  me  for  a  new-comer,  attempted  to  make  me  pay  four 
times  the  regular  price  for  cutting  my  hair.  I  assured  him  he 
had  made  a  mistake  ;  that  I  knew  the  prices  of  things  as  well 
as  he  did ;  and  after  giving  him  a  moral  lecture,  in  good  Greek, 
upon  his  dishonesty,  cut  him  down  to  half  his  demand,  paying 
him  twice  the  regular  price,  which  he  received  with  many 
thanks  and  a  low  bow.  I  cannot,  therefore,  assent  to  these 
sweeping  sentences  of  condemnation  upon  the  whole  Greek 
people.  They  do  not  accord  with  my  experience  among  them. 
If  others  have  fared  differently,  they  will  naturally  draw  differ- 
ent conclusions. 

The  educated  classes  seem  to  me  to  be  not  only  well  bred, 
but  generally  of  high  and  honorable  views.  Many  of  the  gen. 
tlemen  of  Greece  have  studied  in  France  and  Germany,  anc' 
speak  the  languages  of  those  countries  with  fluency. and  ele- 
gance. In  society  they  are  courteous  and  obliging,  and  theii 
conversation  is  intelligent  and  agreeable. 


CHARACTER   OF   THE  MODERN   GREEKS.  261 

The  condition  of  the  country  is  not,  indeed,  what  it  ought 
to  be,  and  what  it  might  have  been.  I  must  accuse  the  people 
of  some  want  of  practical  good  sense,  and  the  government  of 
not  having  well  understood  the  line  of  policy,  internal  and  for- 
eign, which  would  have  been  most  beneficial.  The  mass  of  the 
population  are  living  in  a  state  of  poverty  quite  beyond  any 
conception  of  poverty  we  can  form  in  this  country.  The  most 
ordinary  arrangements,  not  only  for  comfort,  but  for  health 
and  decency,  are  generally  wanting,  except  in  a  few  of  the 
larger  towns.  You  see  no  tables,  chairs,  beds,  or  glass  windows 
in  the  Northern  provinces,  though  in  the  Peloponnesus  the 
state  of  things  in  these  respects  is  somewhat  better.  The  arts 
of  undressing  and  going  to  bed,  of  washing  one's  hands  and 
face,  of  occasionally  changing  one's  linen,  of  conducting  smoke 
through  chimneys,  of  eating  with  knives  and  forks,  are  quite 
unknown.  The  traveller  who  takes  a  cold  bath  in  the  morn- 
ing is  regarded  as  of  unsound  mind  ;  rumors  of  what  he  is 
doing  spread  rapidly  through  the  village;  and  ten  to  one,  a 
dozen  pairs  of  eyes  will  be  watching,  through  chinks  in  the 
walls  of  his  room,  with  undisguised  wonder,  every  movement 
of  the  sponge.  I  asked  my  cook  one  day  how  large  a  fee 
would  induce  him  to  take  a  cold  bath.  He  shuddered,  and 
said  he  would  do  it  for  a  dollar.  But  notwithstanding  this 
apparent  wretchedness,  there  are  scarcely  any  beggars  in  the 
countiy.  Every  man  has  his  flock,  or  his  olive-grove,  or  his 
little  farm,  or  hires  laud  of  the  government,  and  labors  enough 
to  supply  his  simple  wants.  In  the  meanest  huts,  where  you 
can  find  nothing  else,  you  will  probably  find  school-books  ;  and 
you  are  nowhere  annoyed  by  mendicants,  dogging  your  foot- 
steps, and  destroying  the  pleasure  of  contemplating  the  lovely 
landscape  or  the  wondrously  beautiful  fragments  of  ancient 
magnificence. 

In  crossing  a  spur  of  Mount  Helicon,  I  was  overtaken  by 
one  of  those  tremendous  rains  which  seem  in  a  moment  to 
bring  back  Deucalion's  Deluge.  I  was  obliged  to  take  shelter 
tn  a  hut  picturesquely  placed  on  the  slope  of  the  mountain. 


262  MODERN   GREECE. 

and  to  pass  the  night  there.  The  luggage  —  bag,  baggage,  ana 
provisions  —  had  been  sent  by  a  shorter  road  to  Lebadeia,  a 
dozen  miles  off;  and  the  supplies  and  accommodations  that 
were  to  be  had  became  a  subject  of  some  interest,  even  in  that 
classic  and  glorious  region.  The  house  consisted  of  one  room, 
the  lower  end  of  which  was  occupied  by  the  domestic  animals, 
to  which  our  horses  were  now  added.  The  floor  was  of  hard- 
ened earth  mixed  with  straw.  Towards  the  upper  end  there 
was  a  raised  circle,  on  which  the  fire  was  burning;  but  as 
there  was  no  chimney,  the  smoke  floated  about  in  graceful 
curls  among  the  timbers  of  the  roof,  the  cracks  in  which  served 
the  purpose  of  not  letting  out  the  smoke  and  of  letting  in  the 
rain.  The  family  were  the  father,  mother,  four  children,  and 
a  maiden  aunt,  who,  like  maiden  aunts  all  over  the  world,  was 
making  herself  useful  in  a  variety  of  ways; — rocking  the  baby, 
which,  according  to  the  fashion  in  Greece,  was  swathed  like  an 
infant  mummy ;  spinning  too,  not  with  a  wheel,  but  in  Homeric 
style,  sitting  upon  her  heels,  and  whirling  a  spindle  on  the 
ground.  They  had  no  beds,  and  therefore  required  no  bed- 
rooms ;  they  had  no  chairs,  and  therefore  sat  on  the  floor ;  they 
had  no  knives  and  forks,  and  therefore  ate  with  their  fingers. 
In  searching  for  supplies,  a  disconsolate  old  hen  was  found  on 
the  premises ;  and  when  the  good  mother  returned  from  wash- 
ing clothes,  like  Nausicaa,  in  a  neighboring  stream,  she  tipped 
the  baby  out  of  the  cradle,  —  leaving  him  to  roll  helplessly  on 
the  floor, — poured  into  it  a  quantity  of  Indian  meal,  and  knead- 
ed a  mighty  loaf,  which  she  baked  under  the  ashes.  Perhaps 
some  of  my  over-fastidious  hearers  think  they  would  have  hesi- 
tated to  partake  of  a  loaf  whose  antecedents  were  such  as  I  have 
described.  But,  I  can  assure  them,  that  loaf  of  bread,  and  that 
old  hen  boiled  in  an  earthen  pot  by  the  light  of  a  blazing  pine 
torch,  made  a  supper  fit  for  a  hungry  Homeric  hero,  or  a  hun- 
grier American  Professor,  in  the  very  presence  of  Apollo  and 
the  Muses  Nine.  At  the  proper  time,  the  family  went  to  bed, 
figuratively  speaking ;  that  is,  they  plumped  down  on  a  piece  of 
eoarse  matting,  just  as  they  were,  extending  their  feet,  like  radii 


CHARACTER   OF  THE  MODERN   GREEKS.  263 

rf  a  circle  or  spokes  of  a  wheel,  towards  the  fire ;  while  we 
plumped  down  on  the  other  side,  with  our  saddles  for  pillows, 
and  with  our  feet  extending,  like  opposite  spokes,  towards  the 
hub  of  the  same  wheel.  Poets  talk  about  reposing  on  the 
bosom  of  Mother  Earth.  That  is  all  very  well,  but  I  thought 
a  good  mattress  would  have  been  better.  At  all  events,  after 
a  night  so  passed  on  the  slope  of  Helicon,  early  rising  ceases  to 
be  the  self-denying  virtue  that  practical  moralists  sometimes 
consider  it. 

There  is  one  aspect  of  the  condition  of  Greece  which  may  be 
contemplated  with  unalloyed  delight ;  and  that  is  the  excellent 
system  of  popular  education  now  established  in  the  country. 
The  schools  are  well  graded,  from  the  lowest  children's  schools, 
up  through  the  Hellenic  schools,  the  gymnasia,  and  the  Uni- 
versity, and  they  are  all  supported  by  the  government ;  so  that 
a  young  man  who  has  the  bare  means  of  subsistence  may  ac- 
quire the  best  education  the  country  affords  —  and  that  is  as 
good  as  can  be  had  anywhere  else  in  Europe — without  its  cost- 
ing him  a  farthing.  The  quality  of  the  instruction,  both  in  the 
schools  and  in  the  University  of  Athens,  is  very  excellent.  On 
this  subject  I  may  venture  to  speak  with  some  confidence,  hav- 
ing passed  no  small  portion  of  the  time  I  was  in  the  country  in 
the  schools,  and  in  the  lecture-rooms  of  the  University.  The 
zeal  for  instruction  among  all  classes  of  the  people  is  indescrib- 
able,—  greater  than  I  have  witnessed  anywhere  else  in  the 
world.  They  enjoy,  besides,  a  complete  liberty  of  the  press 
and  of  speech ;  they  have  open  parliamentary  debates,  the  trial 
by  jury,  and  the  public  administration  of  justice.  The  bar  of 
Athens  consists  of  a  body  of  well-educated  lawyers,  who  would 
do  no  discredit  to  the  profession  anywhere.  I  have  witnessed 
the  legal  proceedings  in  the  courts  with  the  deepest  interest, 
and,  notwithstanding  some  exceptions  that  have  occurred,  —  as 
the  unjust  condemnation  of  Dr.  King,  —  I  am  persuaded,  both 
ay  what  I  have  seen  and  by  what  I  have  heard  from  others 
whose  opportunities  have  been  much  greater  than  mine,  that 
justice  is  for  the  most  part  administered  with  ability  and 
integrity. 


264  MODERN   GREECE. 

Now  I  must  maintain  that  a  people  which  has  reorganized 
the  institutions  of  civilization  within  so  short  a  period  after  the 
close  of  a  war  unexampled  in  its  destructiveness,  has  given 
proofs,  notwithstanding  the  grave  errors  which  may  be  charged 
upon  it,  that  it  does  not  deserve  to  be  shut  out  from  the 
pale  of  Christendom  ;  and  such  proofs  the  Turks,  whose  his- 
tory for  four  hundred  years  is  interwoven  with  that  of 
Greece,  have  not  given.  The  Turkish  character  and  genius 
are  quite  the  opposite  of  the  Greek.  Something  is  due  to 
difference  of  race ;  still  more,  perhaps,  to  difference  of  relig- 
ion ;  and  much  to  the  relation  of  conquerors  to  the  conquered. 
The  northern  Barbarians  who  poured  into  the  Roman  Empire 
blended  with  the  older  populations,  and  became  Christian ; 
and  from  their  united  masses  sprang  the  Christian  nations  of 
Modern  Europe.  Not  so  the  Turkish  conquerors  of  the  East- 
ern Empire.  The  fundamental  principles  of  the  Mahometan 
religion  are  totally  and  irreconcilably  at  war  with  the  Christian 
civilization  of  Europe  ;  and  the  maintenance  of  what  is  called 
the  integrity  of  the  Turkish  Empire,  as  a  part  and  parcel  of 
the  system  of  Christian  Europe,  is  a  paradox  and  an  impossi- 
bility. Just  so  far  as  the  Turk  approximates  to  the  condition 
of  the  Christian,  he  ceases  to  be  a  Turk.  If  the  great  powers 
are  going  to  make  a  permanent  European  state  out  of  Tur- 
key, they  must  unmake  the  Turk.  The  more  you  civilize  the 
Christian,  the  better  Christian  he  becomes  ;  the  more  you 
civilize  the  Turk,  the  worse  Turk  he  grows.  Whatever  change 
you  make  in  him,  outwardly  or  inwardly,  to  that  extent  you 
change  his  quality  as  Turk.  The  Sultan's  guards  wear  the 
European  uniform.  The  consequence  is,  that,  when  His  High- 
ness goes  to  the  mosque,  they  receive  him  with  presented 
arms  instead  of  prostrated  bodies,  because  the  military  panta- 
loons are  not,  like  the  Turkish  trousers,  sufficiently  spacious 
to  allow,  without  danger  of  rending,  the  old-fashioned  Oriental 
reverence  to  the  sacred  person  of  the  monarch.  Who  knows 
how  closely  the  integrity  of  the  Turkish  government  may  be 
Dound  up  with  the  integrity  of  the  trousers  ?    But  changes  of 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  TURKS.  265 

this  description  or  of  any  description  have  not  penetrated  the 
masses  of  the  people.  The  genuine  Turk  is  still  what  he  was 
a  hundred  years  ago, —  a  despiser  of  all  o'her  religions,  a  fanatic 
for  his  own,  and  an  enemy  to  the  death  of  the  civilization  of 
the  age.  For  many  years  Turkey  has  been  tottering  to  its 
fall.  The  Emperor  of  Russia  well  described  its  condition  as 
that  of  a  sick  man,  whose  decease  might  be  expected  at  any  mo- 
ment ;  and  no  longer  ago  than  the  year  before  last,  Lord  Strat- 
ford de  Redcliffe,  in  a  speech  at  Constantinople,  declared  that 
Turkey  was  nothing  but  a  corpse,  which  it  was  in  vain  to  at- 
tempt to  galvanize  into  life.  The  qualities  that  made  the  Turks 
formidable,  when  they  first  broke  the  barriers  of  Europe,  no 
longer  find  a  sphere  in  which  they  can  exercise  themselves  with 
effect ;  and  they  do  not  show  the  intellectual  vigor  and  moral 
courage  which  would  be  necessary  to  cast  off  their  old  organi- 
zations, their  religion,  and  their  forms  of  domestic  life,  and  to 
become  Christianized  and  civilized.  I  trust  that  the  Allies,  in 
the  present  contest,  will  beat  the  Czar  to  their  hearts'  con- 
tent. This  they  probably  can  do ;  but  as  to  maintaining  the 
integrity  of  the  Turkish  Empire,  that  is  a  thing  beyond  human 
power.  They  may  take  it  into  their  own  hands,  and  remould 
its  public  institutions  and  private  relations  ;  in  other  words, 
civilize  and  Christianize  it.  It  will  not  be  enough  to  close  the 
accounts  by  making  a  treaty  to  place  the  Christian  subjects 
of  the  Porte  on  an  equality  with  the  Mahometans.  Even  such 
a  treaty  they  would  have  to  execute  by  their  own  forces ;  for 
the  Turks  never  will  do  this,  so  long  as  they  acknowledge  the 
binding  obligation  of  the  law  of  the  Koran.  But  equality  of 
condition  with  the  Turks  is  not  enough ;  Turks  and  Christians 
both  must  be  elevated.  In  other  words,  the  Eastern  question 
must  be  settled  by  establishing  a  good  government  at  Constan- 
tinople, and  redeeming  the  fairest  countries  in  the  world  from 
the  curse  and  the  thraldom  under  which  they  have  been  and 
are  still  groaning.  By  wnat  arrangement  this  can  be  brought 
about  —  whether  by  en.arging  the  boundaries  of  the  Hellenic 
kingdom,  so  as  to  include  the  European  provinces  of  Turkey, 


266  MODERN   GREECE. 

with  Const intinople  for  the  capital,  as  the  Greeks  hope,  or  by 
thoroughly  changing  the  maxims  and  the  practice  of  the  Turk- 
ish administration  —  is  a  question  which  France  and  England 
will  have  to  settle  when  they  have  finished  with  the  Czar  and 
compelled  him  to  sue  for  peace.  The  Greeks  hope  that  the  cross 
is  destined  to  supplant  the  crescent  on  the  towers  of  St.  Sophia. 
A  ballad  coeval  with  the  fall  of  Constantinople  predicts  the  res- 
toration of  that  temple  to  the  Panagia;  and  a  tradition  still  cur- 
rent relates  that,  when  Mahomet  II.  and  his  barbarian  hordes 
broke  down  its  doors,  the  priest,  who  was  performing  the 
mass,  took  up  the  consecrated  vases,  and,  walking  down  one  of 
the  aisles  with  solemn  steps,  vanished  in  the  solid  wall.  The 
sound  of  the  psalm  is  still  vaguely  heard  within  the  impene- 
trable masonry,  where  the  immured  priest  murmurs  his  in- 
terrupted liturgy;  and  when  St.  Sophia  shall  be  restored  to 
the  Christian,  the  wall  shall  open  of  its  own  accord,  and  the 
priest,  issuing  from  his  retreat,  shall  finish  at  the  altar  the  mass 
he  began  to  celebrate  four  centuries  ago.  At  all  events,  if  I 
may  quote  the  words  of  a  letter  received  from  a  very  distin- 
guished Greek,  who  has  played  a  leading  part  in  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  since  then  both  in  the  administration  and  the  diplo- 
macy of  the  Greek  government,  "  Let  us  hope  that  in  time  the 
now  erroneous  political  opinion  of  Europe  will  be  persuaded 
that  Turkey  can  be  civilized  and  will  be  civilized  by  Christians, 
and  not  by  Turks  ;  and  being  so  persuaded,  that  it  will  stretch 
out  a  helping  hand  to  throw  off  the  yoke  that  now  oppresses 
the  country." 

The  following  narrative  may  illustrate  the  religious  fanati- 
cism of  the  Turks.  In  August,  1843,  a  young  Armenian,  about 
eighteen  or  twenty  years  old,  was  executed  at  Constantinople 
under  circumstances  of  peculiar  atrocity.  Eighteen  months 
previously,  Avakim  (that  was  the  young  man's  name),  having 
had  a  drunken  brawl  with  some  of  his  neighbors,  was  sentenced 
at  the  War  Office  to  receive  five  hundred  blows  of  the  basti- 
nado. In  the  first  moment  of  alarm,  he  resorted  to  the  only 
expedient  for  escape  from  this  severe  and  degrading  penalty 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  TURKS.  267 

md,  professing  to  become  a  Mussulman,  received  -the  name  ot 
Mehemet.  It  was  but  a  few  days  before  he  repented  of  bis 
abjuration  of  Christianity,  and  fled  to  Syra,  an  island  lying 
within  the  boundaries  of  Greece.  Having  remained  here 
some  time  after  he  had  renounced  Islamism,  he  returned  to 
Constantinople,  where  he  persevered  in  his  profession  of  Chris 
tianity.  One  day  he  was  accidentally  recognized,  as  he  was 
coming  from  his  sister's  house,  by  a  Turkish  official,  and  was 
denounced  at  the  War  Office  as  a  renegade  from  Islamism. 
He  was  seized,  subjected  to  cruel  tortures,  and  conducted 
through  the  streets  with  his  hands  tied  behind  him,  as  if  for 
execution  ;  but  all  in  vain.  In  spite  of  threats,  tortures,  prom- 
ises, he  remained  immovable,  and  proclaimed  aloud  his  be- 
lief in  Christianity.  He  was  accordingly  taken  to  execution, 
amidst  the  insults  and  revilings  of  the  infuriated  fanatics,  who 
spat  upon  him  as  he  passed,  and  yelled  their  execrations  of  the 
religion  for  which  he  was  to  die.  Of  the  thirty  armed  police 
who  had  charge  of  the  execution  of  the  sentence,  only  one, 
Tavuk-Bazarli-Ali,  could  be  induced  to  strike  the  blow.  He 
was  beheaded  in  one  of  the  most  frequented  parts  of  the  city, 
and  the  body,  after  three  days'  exposure,  was  cast  into  the  sea. 
The  first  knowledge  of  this  tragical  event  was  communicated 
in  Pera  by  the  appearance  of  his  gray-haired  mother  rushing 
distractedly  from  the  bloody  scene.  She  afterwards  returned, 
and  sat  sorrowfully  by  the  lifeless  body  until  she  was  re- 
moved. 

Such  a  transaction,  in  this  enlightened  age,  aroused  the  at- 
tention of  the  Christian  nations  then  holding  peaceful  relations 
with  Turkey-  Sir  Stratford  Canning  at  once  addressed  a  very 
energetic  remonstrance  to  the  Grand  Vizier,  who  replied : 
ki  The  Laws  of  the  Koran  compel  no  man  to  become  a  Mussul- 
man, but  they  are  inexorable  both  as  respects  a  Mussulman 
who  embraces  another  religion,  and  as  respects  a  person  not  a 
Mussulman,  who,  after  having  of  his  own  accord  publicly  em- 
braced Islamism,  is  convicted  of  having  renounced  that  faith. 
No  consi  leration  can  produce  a  comtmitation   of  the  capita! 


268  MODERN    GREECE. 

punishment,  to  which  the  law  condemns  him  without  mercy. 
The  only  mode  of  escaping  death  is  for  the  accused  to  declare 
that  he  has  again  become  a  Mussulman."  M.  Guizot  took  the 
matter  up  in  the  same  spirit.  He  remarked  to  Lord  Cowley, 
that,  "  as  the  great  powers  of  Europe  were  using  their  best 
endeavors  to  induce  the  Sultan's  Christian  subjects  to  live 
peaceably  under  the  Ottoman  rule,  they  could  not  allow  such 
arbitrary  acts  of  cruelty  as  that  which  had  been  perpetrated, 
and  which  was  sufficient  to  rouse  the  whole  of  the  Christian 
population  against  the  government."  The  Baron  de  Bour- 
guenay,  the  French  Ambassador  at  Constantinople,  was  in- 
structed to  convey  to  the  Porte  the  sentiments  of  the  Cabinet 
at  Paris  on  the  subject.  "  Even  had  not  humanity,"  says  the 
Minister,  "  whose  name  has  never  been  vainly  invoked  in 
France,  been  so  cruelly  wounded  by  the  punishment  of  this 
Armenian,  —  even  could  the  King's  government,  which  has 
always  protected,  and  ever  will  protect,  the  Christian  religion 
in  the  East,  forget  that  it  is  Christianity  which  has  been  thus 
cruelly  outraged,  —  the  interest  which  it  takes  in  the  Ottoman 
Empire  and  in  its  independence  would  still  cause  it  to  behold 

what  has  occurred  with  profound  regret The  King's 

government  considers  that  it  discharges  an  imperious  duty  in 
communicating  to  the  Porte  the  impression  which  has  been 
made  upon  it  by  an  event  unfortunately  irreparable,  and  which, 
vvere  it  to  occur  again,  would  be  likely  to  cause  real  danger  to 
a  government  weak  enough  to  yield  such  concessions  to  a  hate- 
ful and  lamentable  fanaticism." 

Notwithstanding  this  energetic  language,  not  many  weeks 
had  passed  before  a  young  Greek,  near  Broussa,  having  for 
some  reason  become  a  Mussulman,  returned  to  his  own  creed, 
and  was  put  to  death  by  hanging.  M.  Guizot  wrote  to  the 
French  Minister :  "  Such  a  transaction  is  no  longer  only  an 
outrage  to  humanity ;  it  is  an  insult  cast  upon  civilized  Europe, 
by  the  fanaticism  of  a  party  which  the  Ottoman  government 
has  not  the  courage  to  keep  within  bounds  and  repress,  even 
supposing  that  it  is  not  itself  to  a  certain  degree  an  accomplice 


CHARACTER   OF  THE   TURKS.  269 

in  the  measure.  This  courage  must  be  given  to  it  by  causing  it 
to  apprehend  that  it  will  incur  the  serious  displeasure  of  the 
powers  whose  benevolent  support  is  so  necessary  to  it."  The 
Earl  of  Aberdeen  wrote  to  Sir  Stratford  Canning :  "  The  repe- 
tition of  a  scene  of  this  revolting  kind,  so  soon  after  that  which 
had  in  the  course  of  the  last  summer  excited  the  horror  and 
indignation  of  Europe,  evinces  such  total  disregard,  on  the  part 
of  the  Porte,  for  the  feelings  and  remonstrances  of  the  Chris- 
tian powers,  that  it  is  incumbent  upon  her  Majesty's  govern- 
ment without  loss  of  time  to  convey  their  sentiments  on  the 

matter  still  more  explicitly  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Porte 

Whatever  may  have  been  tolerated  in  former  times  by  the 
weakness  or  indifference  of  Christian  powers,  these  powers 
will  now  require  from  the  Porte  due  consideration  for  their 
feelings  as  members  of  a  religious  community,  and  interested 
as  such  in  the  fate  of  all  who,  notwithstanding  shades  of  differ- 
ence, unite  in  a  common  belief  in  the  essential  doctrines  of 
Christianity ;  and  they  will  not  endure  that  the  Porte  should 
insult  and  trample  on  their  faith,  by  treating  as  a  criminal  any 

person  who  embraces  it Her  Majesty's  government  are 

so  anxious  for  the  continuance  of  a  good  understanding  with 
Turkey,  and  that  the  Porte  should  entitle  itself  to  their  good 
offices  in  the  hour  of  need,  that  they  wish  to  leave  no  expedi- 
ent untried,  before  they  shall  be  compelled  to  admit  the  con- 
viction that  all  their  interest  and  friendship  is  misplaced,  and 
that  nothing  remains  for  them  but  to  look  forward  to,  if  not 
promote,  the  arrival  of  the  day  when  the  force  of  circum- 
stances shall  bring  about  a  change  which  they  will  have  vainly 
hoped  to  procure  from  the  prudence  and  humanity  of  the  Porte 
itself." 

The  correspondence  of  the  English  Secretary  of  Foreign 
Affairs  with  the  ministers  at  the  other  courts  was  filled  with 
the  strongest  expressions  of  the  disgust  and  abhorrence  with 
which  the  Turkish  system  was  regarded  by  the  Queen's  gov- 
ernment ;  the  other  powers  shared  in  the  feeling,  and  their 
combinM  interference  could  not  long  be  evaded.    The  Turkish 


270  MODERN   GREECE. 

Minister  argued  that  there  was  a  strong  distinction  between 
custom  and  divine  law,  intimating  that  a  practice  derived  from 
the  former  source  might  be  abandoned  to  meet  the  wishes  of 
Europe,  or  even  of  Great  Britain  alone,  but  that  a  law  pre- 
scribed by  God  himself  was  not  to  be  set  aside  by  any  human 
power.  But  the  next  letter  of  Lord  Aberdeen  closes  thus : 
"  The  Porte  may  rest  assured  that  Christian  states  will,  with 
one  accord,  refuse  to  tolerate  any  longer  a  practice  which,  both 
in  the  principle  on  which  it  rests  and  the  manner  in  which  it 
is  carried  into  execution,  is  designed  to  stigmatize  the  faith 
which  they  profess  and  cherish.*'  Reschid  Pacha,  the  ablest 
and  best  of  the  Turkish  statesmen,  then  Minister  to  France, 
was  instructed  to  communicate  to  M.  Guizot  in  strong  terms 
the  concern  of  the  Sultan  at  this  interference  of  the  allied 
sovereigns  in  the  internal  affairs  of  his  empire  ;  to  say  that  a 
compliance  with  these  demands  might  be  attended  with  very 
serious  consequences  to  himself  and  his  government ;  and  to 
express  the  fervent  hope  of  his  master  that  they  would  not  be 
persisted  in.     But  M.  Guizot  was  as  firm  as  Lord  Aberdeen. 

It  would  not  be  to  the  purpose  of  these  Lectures  to  enter 
into  all  the  details  of  this  negotiation.  It  will  be  enough  to 
state  that,  the  subject  having  been  laid  by  the  Sultan  before 
the  Council  of  the  Ulema,  —  Turkish  doctors  of  the  law,  —  the 
doctors  resisted  as  long  as  they  dared,  but  finally  drew  a  dis- 
tinction between  the  strict  letter  of  the  law  and  the  discretion 
warranted  by  state  necessity.  At  length  the  British  Minister 
opened  a  direct  communication  with  the  Sultan,  and  succeeded 
in  obtaining  all  his  demands,  together  with  the  assurance  of  the 
sovereign  that  these  concessions  were  entirely  consonant  with 
his  personal  wishes.  Of  this  there  was  no  doubt.  The  pres- 
ent Sultan  is  a  most  amiable  man,  by  a  freak  of  fortune  sadly 
out  of  place  as  the  head  of  such  a  people  in  their  present  po- 
litical condition.  His  royal  word  has  been  faithfully  kept 
From  that  day  to  this  no  Christian,  becoming  a  Mussulman  and 
returning  afterwards  to  Christianity,  has  been  put  to  death 
Only  a  fe*   months  ago,  a  man  who  had  lived  as  a  Turk  so 


CHARACTER   OF   THE  TURKS.  271 

long  that  none  of  his  acquaintances  remembered  he  had  ever 
been  a  Christian,  suddenly  went  back  to  his  early  faith.  He 
was  arrested  as  an  apostate  ;  but  instead  of  losing  his  head, 
like  the  unfortunate  Armenian,  he  was  set  at  liberty  in  a  few 
days,  and  now  walks  the  streets  of  Constantinople  without 
fear.  I  believe  they  still  assert  the  right  of  putting  to  death 
any  one  who,  having  been  originally  a  Turk,  apostatizes  to 
Christianity;  but  whether  any  such  cases  have  lately  occurred, 
I  do  not  know. 

I  have  cited  this  case  to  illustrate  the  fanatical  character  of 
the  genuine  Turk.  The  proceedings  I  have  thus  summarily 
stated  occurred  only  ten  vears  ago.  The  British  Ambassador 
who  obtained  these  concessions  is  still  at  Constantinople,  now 
known  by  the  title  of  Lord  Stratford  de  RedclhTe, —  a  man  of 
noble  character  and  high  ability,  and  at  present  of  boundless 
influence  with  the  Turks.  But  it  is  only  the  pressing  neces- 
sities of  their  present  condition,  the  influence  of  a  few  indi- 
viduals who  have  a  tincture  of  European  civilization,  and  the 
humane  disposition  of  the  sovereign,  —  and  not  at  all  the  in- 
tellectual progress  of  the  nation  at  large,  or  any  increasing 
humanity  of  the  true  Mussulman,  —  that  have  kept  in  check 
the  ferocious  fanaticism  inculcated  by  their  religion  and  con- 
genial to  the  temper  of  the  race. 


LECTURE    II. 

THE   MACEDONIAN  ASCENDENCY.  — GREECE   UNDER   THE 
ROMANS. 

The  general  subject  of  this  course  of  Lectures  is  the  Down- 
fall and  Resurrection  of  Greece.  It  is  necessary  to  go  back 
and  to  take  a  brief  review  of  some  points  in  her  earlier  history. 
The  Greek  race  occupies  a  central  point  in  the  long  line  of  the 
Indo-Germanic  stock,  which  in  space  extended  from  the  Gan- 
ges to  the  western  shores  of  Europe,  and  extends  now  from  the 
Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  From  the  earliest  periods  of  the 
history  of  man  this  race  has  held  the  foreground  in  the  scene 
of  history,  and  been  charged  with  the  destinies  of  the  human 
family.  Whatever  of  letters  and  of  science  illuminated  the 
East  in  the  morning  of  culture  came  from  the  richly  endowed 
intellects  of  leaders  belonging  to  this  race.  The  noblest  lan- 
guage of  the  Oriental  world,  with  its  literature  gigantic  like  the 
Himalayas,  is  one  of  the  primitive  achievements  of  the  stock; 
and  commencing  from  that,  and  following  the  affinities  of  speech 
along  the  march  of  migrations  and  the  progress  of  centuries, 
we  mark  at  every  step  the  overpowering  superiority  of  the  Indo- 
Germanic  type.  This  great  race  moved  westward  in  successive 
waves,  commencing  at  a  period  long  before  the  beginnings  of 
authentic  history,  in  the  ages  whose  transactions  are  veiled  in 
the  bewildering  forms  of  tradition  and  myth.  They  poured 
down  from  the  North,  through  the  mountain-passes,  into  the 
valleys  of  Greece :  and,  later,  were  joined  by  new-comers,  who, 
approaching  the  sea-shore  by  a  more  southerly  line  of  march, 
.earned  to  struggle  with  the  waves ;  following  an  irresistible 
instinct,  traversed  the  ^Egean  Sea  from  island  to  island ;  and, 


THE   MACEDONIAN  ASCENDENCY.  273 

reacning  the  Grecian  mainland,  there  blended  again  with  the 
less  cultivated  immigrants  who  had  preceded  them.  At  the 
earliest  appearance  of  the  Greeks  in  history,  they  have  made 
great  advances  beyond  the  Oriental  nations  in  all  the  funda- 
mental institutions  of  society.  They  have  thrown  off  the 
slavery  of  caste,  which,  down  to  the  present  moment,  binds  the 
greatest  nations  of  the  Eastern  world  in  its  adamantine  chains  ; 
they  have  renounced  polygamy,  and  established  the  family  re- 
lation on  the  only  basis  for  the  existence  of  a  lofty  civilization ; 
they  have  attained  to  some  ideas  of  political  liberty,  their  kings 
being  restrained  by  laws  from  Zeus  and  by  the  deliberations 
of  a  council  of  elders.  With  all  these  organizations  we  find 
them  cultivating  poetry,  and  not  insensible  to  the  attractions 
of  art.  At  a  later  period,  yet  earlier  than  the  first  authentic 
date  in  European  history,  they  have  already  established  colo- 
nies along  the  western  coast  of  Asia  Minor,  and  perfected  the 
brilliant  development  of  epic  poetry,  —  the  bright,  consum- 
mate flower  of  Ionian  genius.  In  rapid  succession  we  have  the 
change  from  the  old  Homeric  monarchies  to  the  princely  houses 
of  the  so-called  tyrants  who  supplanted  them ;  and  in  letters, 
the  varied  and  magnificent  schools  of  the  ^Eolian  and  Dorian 
lyric  poetry. 

After  another  brilliant  period,  the  princely  houses  pass  away, 
and  the  people,  with  more  or  less  distinctness,  assert  their  rights 
by  the  establishment  of  popular  constitutions  and  equal  laws. 
Here  Athens  takes  the  lead,  while  Sparta,  with  obstinate  con- 
servatism, vainly  strives  to  fix  the  fleeting  elements  of  political 
life  by  the  ascetic  rigors  of  her  military  code.  Athens  started 
upon  her  career  of  glory  with  the  legislation  of  Solon,  and  has 
not  ended  it  yet ;  the  institutions  of  Sparta  passed  away,  and 
ihe  stands  in  history  only  as  the  shadow  of  a  great  name.  The 
age  of  Pericles  beholds  the  temples  of  the  Acropolis  rising  from 
the  conflagrations  of  the  Persian  war,  and  the  matchless  statues 
of  Pheidias  taking  their  places  on  that  high  altar  of  Hellenic 
religion.  The  Dionysiac  Theatre  resounds  with  the  plays  of 
iEschylus  and  Sophocles,  the  moral  teachers  of  the  popular 

VOL.    II.  18 


' 


274  MODERN   GREECE. 

body,  and  the  unsurpassed  leaders  in  polished  style  expressing 
lofty  thought.  Contemporaneously,  the  most  brilliant  comic 
genius  seizes  on  the  passing  foibles  and  follies  of  the  day ;  on 
the  intrigues  of  the  unscrupulous  demagogue,  everywhere  the 
camp-follower  in  the  inarch  of  popular  freedom ;  on  the  per- 
verted and  immoral  ingenuity  of  the  sophist ;  on  the  fantastic 
schemes  of  the  socialist;  on  the  masculine  woman,  ambitious  of 
mingling  in  the  din  and  turbulence  of  politics,  —  and  holds  them 
up  to  the  laughter  of  the  moment  and  the  instruction  of  all 
time.  This  brilliant  literature  is  the  natural  product  of  liberty 
acting  on  the  susceptible  spirits  of  a  gifted  race ;  and  the  in- 
tense love  of  intellectual  and  aesthetic  entertainment  is  scarcely 
cooled  by  the  fiercer  passions  stirred  up  by  successful  war  or 
by  the  disappointment  of  defeat.  Political  eloquence,  nevei 
wanting  to  that  ancient  republic,  becomes  nobler  and  grander 
as  she  draws  near  her  day  of  adversity  and  her  final  hour. 
The  ambition  of  the  Macedonian  monarchs  is  held  in  check  by 
the  immortal  statesman,  whose  voice,  first  heard  on  the  slope 
of  the  Pnyx,  now  resounds  through  the  civilized  world  and  for- 
ever. In  his  lifetime  he  was  the  private  citizen  of  a  small  re- 
public, struggling,  by  the  arms  of  eloquence  and  patriotism 
alone,  against  the  phalanxes  of  a  king  who  wielded  the  re- 
sources of  an  empire  by  his  autocratic  and  undisputed  will. 
He  falls  in  the  struggle,  and  force  is  apparently  victorious ;  but 
now  the  character  and  history  of  Philip  the  Macedonian  stand 
out,  as  they  are  painted  in  the  undying  colors  of  Demosthenes, 
the  son  of  the  sword-maker,  in  Athens.  The  chief  importance 
of  that  able  monarch's  reign  lies  in  his  having  called  forth  the 
mighty  eloquence  of  his  Athenian  antagonist.  It  is  not  the 
armies  of  Macedonia  nor  the  victory  of  Chaaroneia  that  give 
a  real  significance  to  the  life  of  Philip :  it  is  those  Philippic 
and  Olynthiac  orations  fulmined  against  him  which  have  made 
the  heart  to  throb  in  forty  generations  of  men  since  born. 

The  conquests  of  Alexander,  the  greatest  of  warriors  and  the 
irisest  among  the  founders  of  states,  carried  the  peculiar  spirit 
of  Hellenic  civilization  over  a  great  part  of  the  Oriental  world 


THE   MACEDONIAN  ASCENDENCY.  275 

The  Greeks  had  already  sent  colonies,  not  only  to  the  Medi- 
terranean shores  of  Asia  Minor  and  the  southern  coasts  of  the 
Euxine,  but  to  Italy,  Sicily,  Africa,  and  the  South  of  France ; 
and  the  influence  of  Hellenic  genius  and  character  has  not  van- 
ished, even  to  this  day,  from  most  of  those  regions.  The  soli 
tary  but  lovely  plain  of  Paestum,  with  its  imposing  temples  still 
standing,  with  the  encircling  mountains,  and  the  blue  sea  to 
bound  the  sight,  seems,  under  the  soft  serenity  of  the  Lueanian 
sky,  to  be  a  piece  of  Greece  dropped  down  in  Italy,  and  more 
peculiarly  and  serenely  beautiful  than  any  other  spot  in  that 
classic  peninsula.  In  the  veins  of  the  mediaeval  Troubadours 
flowed  still  the  blood  of  the  Hellenic  colonists  of  Massilia  ;  and 
when  I  heard  the  barber-poet  Jasmin  reciting  his  marvellous 
poems  in  that  most  musical  and  graphic  dialect  which  his  genius 
has  reawakened  to  song,  —  when  I  watched  the  irresistible  pos- 
session which  seized  his  soul,  and  bade  the  tears  of  his  hearers 
to  flow,  even  in  the  salons  of  Paris,  —  I  could  understand  the 
Homeric  singer  who  gathered  crowds  about  him  and  held  them 
thralls  to  the  enchantment  of  his  strain.  His  working  coun- 
tenance, the  emotions  speaking  in  his  voice,  trembling  in  his 
arm  and  hand,  quivering  through  his  stalwart  frame,  the  gush- 
ing tears  filling  his  eyes  and  moistening  his  ^.neek,  the  enthusi- 
asmos,  or  god  within  him,  —  no  acting,  but  profound,  intense, 
passionate  reality,  —  made  me  feel  that  here  was  no  French- 
man of  this  nineteenth  century,  but  a  long-descended  Greek, 
from  those  singers  of  the  iEgean  Isles,  whose  inspiration  was 
believed  in  the  early  faith  of  their  gifted  race  to  come  directly 
from  the  divine  Muse  herself. 

In  the  East,  the  conquests  of  Alexander  impressed,  through 
the  institutions  he  established,  a  Grecian  character  on  Asiatic 
society,  which  lasted  through  the  Roman  down  even  to  the 
Mahometan  times.  Though  the  Macedonians  were  not  ac- 
knowledged as  genuine  Greeks  by  the  purists  of  Sparta  and 
Athens,  yet  the  royal  family  were  deeply  imtacJ  with  Greek 
rulture,  and  cherished  a  passhn  for  Gr-e*  letters  and  art 
Philip   would  have  been  a  consummate    «rato~   on  the  beina 


276  MODERN   GREECE. 

Rnd  the  munificence  of  Alexander  endowed  the  Lyceum  where 
Aristotle  taught  with  a  magnificence  which  no  government  of 
modern  times  has  approached.  Wherever  he  marched  he  took 
measures  to  consolidate  a  new  society,  combining  his  Asiatic 
with  his  Grecian  subjects,  under  the  influence  of  Greek  culture 
and  Greek  social  principles.  Had  he  lived  to  complete  his 
great  plans,  the  history  of  the  world  might  have  taken  a  differ- 
ent course ;  but,  though  he  was  prematurely  cut  off,  he  had 
given  an  impulse  not  easily  or  speedily  arrested ;  and  though 
his  successors  plunged  into  ruinous  wars,  some  of  them  at  least 
—  Seleucus  especially  —  prosecuted  their  conquests  and  estab- 
lished their  sovereignties  in  the  spirit  of  their  master.  Seleu- 
cus dotted  Asia  with  colonies  from  Greece,  and  planted  the 
germs  of  letters  and  civilization,  which  changed  the  aspect  of 
society  in  a  great  part  of  that  venerable  continent.  The  Ptole- 
mies in  Africa  replaced  the  rigid  culture  of  the  ancient  Egyp- 
tians by  the  graces  of  literature  and  the  truths  of  science  trans- 
ferred from  Athens,  Thebes,  and  Corinth  ;  and  Alexandria  be- 
came a  centre  of  light  almost  rivalling  in  brightness  the  mother- 
city  of  the  arts.  Thus  the  race  of  the  Greeks  underwent  a 
vast  extension,  carrying  everywhere  the  intellectual  tendencies 
and  the  social  and  political  ideas  which  had  grown  up  and  been 
developed  on  the  soil  of  Hellas.  This  was  the  pei'iod  of  the 
'argest  diffusion  of  the  Greeks.  Their  settlements  stretched 
from  the  banks  of  the  Indus  to  the  shores  of  Spain,  from  the 
Danube  to  the  deserts  of  Africa.  They  skirted  the  Persian 
Gulf,  the  Caspian  and  Euxine  Seas.  Bactriana,  Parthia,  Per- 
sia, Syria,  Pergamus,  were  under  their  sway,  and  it  seemed  as 
if  they  might  have  controlled  the  destinies  of  the  world. 

But  in  this  growth  of  the  race  the  original  Hellenic  states 
lost  much  of  their  political  importance.  The  ablest  and  most 
ambitious  men  were  dazzled  by  the  brilliant  careers  opened  to 
them  in  the  Macedonian  kingdoms.  The  wealth  of  the  East 
poured  like  a  golden  flood  over  the  West,  changing  the  rela- 
tions of  society,  and  giving  new  directions  to  the  passions  of 
men ;  and  it  was  impossible  to  combine  the  Greeks  of  Europe 


GREECE   UNDER   THE  ROMANS.  277 

m  any  firm  confederacy  to  resist  the  swelling  tide  of  corrup- 
tion. In  the  third  century  before  Christ  an  invasion  of  Gauls 
passed  like  a  storm  over  Greece,  ravaging,  plundering,  and 
laying  waste.  In  Italy,  the  new  and  vigorous  power  of  Rome 
reduced  the  Greek  states  by  its  arms,  already  in  training  for 
the  conquest  of  the  world.  In  Asia,  the  Greeks  were  a  ruling 
caste,  and  did  not  constitute  the  body  of  the  people.  In  Greece, 
on  the  contrary,  though  slavery  was  universally  established, 
the  mass  of  the  people  were  Greeks.  Here  literature  was  the 
expression  of  the  popular  heart,  and  dealt  with  urgent  practical 
affairs.  The  poet  sang  to  the  people  at  festive  assemblies  and 
in  religious  ceremonies ;  the  dramatist  composed  for  the  people, 
and  for  the  people  not  to  read,  but  to  hear.  The  philosopher 
discoursed  to  groups  of  curious  citizens.  Political  news  was 
gathered  from  the  fervid  lips  of  the  orators  on  the  bema.  A 
stranger  arrives  at  Athens  from  Sicily  ;  he  is  invited  by  Socra- 
tes and  others,  not  to  deliver  a  formal  lecture,  which  he  must 
write  out  with  groaning  spirit  and  aching  fingers,  but  to  close 
in  with  them  in  an  animated  discussion  upon  the  art  he  pro- 
fesses to  teach.  Even  the  grave  historian  counts  more  upon 
the  impression  his  work  will  make  upon  the  listening  throng  at 
some  panegyrical  assembly,  than  upon  that  abstract  and  invisi- 
ble patron,  the  reading  public.  These  circumstances  explain 
the  simplicity  and  directness  of  Greek  writing;  the  unexam- 
pled fidelity  of  Greek  poetry  to  nature  ;  the  absence  of  affecta- 
tion and  of  far-fetched  and  elaborate  combinations  of  subtile 
phrases,  which  are  apt  to  disfigure  the  pages  of  the  author  who 
seldom  comes  into  contact  with  his  fellow-man,  or  gladdens  his 
soul  by  the  fresh  breath  of  nature,  or  meditates,  reclining  upon 
the  grass  or  under  the  shadow  of  trees,  with  the  voices  of  the 
living  earth  in  his  ears  and  the  silent  depths  of  heaven  looking 
down  upon  him.  But  among  the  Greeks  of  Africa  and  Asia 
till  this  was  changed.  The  literary  and  scientific  institutions  of 
Alexandria — the  Museum,  the  Brueheium,  the  Serapeion,  the 
Great  Library  —  gathered  around  them  critics,  scholars,  men 
of  learning,  scientific  investigators.     Lectures  came  in,  but  lyrir 


278  MODERN   GREECE. 

song  went  out.  Editions  of  Homer,  jEschylus,  Sophocles, 
were  laboriously  annotated ;  but  epic  poetry  and  the  drama 
ceased  to  thrill  the  hearts  of  sympathetic  myriads.  The  Neo- 
Platonists  puzzled  the  world  with  their  subtilties  ;  but  old  Plato 
no  longer  charmed  the  olive-grove  and  the  murmuring  Ce- 
phissus  with  that  divine  philosophy  which,  according  to  Mil- 
ton, was  "musical  as  is  Apollo's  lute."  Yet  this  chapter  in 
the  intellectual  history  of  the  Greek  race  is  of  profound  his- 
torical significance.  "  The  action  of  the  Grreoo-Bactrian  em- 
pire," says  Humboldt,  "  which  continued  to  prevail  for  one 
hundred  and  sixteen  years,  may  be  regarded  as  amongst  the 
most  important  social  epochs  in  the  process  of  the  development 
of  the  history  of  mankind,  as  far  as  it  indicates  a  closer  connec- 
tion of  Southern  Europe  with  the  southwest  of  Asia,  the  Nile, 
and  Libya.  Independently  of  the  almost  immeasurable  exten- 
sion opened  to  the  sphere  of  development  by  the  advance  of  the 
Macedonians,  their  campaigns  acquired  a  character  of  profound 
moral  greatness  by  the  incessant  efforts  of  the  conqueror  to 
amalgamate  all  races,  and  to  establish,  under  the  noble  influ- 
ence of  Hellenism,  a  unity  throughout  the  world.  The  founda- 
tion of  many  new  cities  at  points  the  selection  of  which  indicates 
higher  aims,  the  arrangement  and  classification  of  an  indepen- 
dently responsible  form  of  government  for  these  cities,  and  the 
tender  forbearance  evinced  by  Alexander  for  national  customs 
and  national  worship,  all  testify  that  the  plan  of  one  great  and 

organic  whole  had  been  laid If  we  remember  that  only 

fifty-two  Olympiads  intervened  from  the  battle  of  the  Grani- 
jus  to  the  destructive  irruption  into  Bactria  of  the  Sacas  and 
Tochi,  we  shall  be  astonished  at  the  permanence  and  the 
magical  influence  exercised  by  the  introduction  from  the  West 
of  Hellenic  cultivation.  This  cultivation,  blended  with  the 
knowledge  of  the  Arabians,  the  modern  Persians,  and  Indians, 
extended  its  influence  in  so  great  a  degree,  even  to  the  time 
»f  the  Middle  Ages,  that  it  is  often  difficult  to  determine  the 
elements  whicn  are  due  to  Greek  literature,  and  those  which 
have  originated,  independently  of  all  admixture,  from  the  in- 
ventive spirit  of  the  Asiatic  races." 


GREECE  UNDER   THE  ROMANS.  279 

With  the  enormous  wealth  of  the  East  an  immense  acces- 
sion of  geographical  and  physical  knowledge  was  rendered 
available  to  the  Grecian  mind.  "  The  objective  world,"  con- 
tinues Humboldt,  u  began  to  assume  a  preponderating  force 
over  that  of  mere  subjective  creation ;  and  while  the  fruitful 
seeds  yielded  by  the  language  and  literature  of  the  Greeks  were 
scattered  abroad  by  the  conquests  of  Alexander,  scientific  ob- 
servation and  the  systematic  arrangement  of  the  knowledge 
already  acquired  were  elucidated  by  the  doctrines  and  exposi- 
tions of  Aristotle.  We  here  indicate  a  happy  coincidence  of 
favoring  relations ;  for,  at  the  very  period  when  a  vast  amount 
of  new  materials  was  revealed  to  the  human  mind,  their  intel- 
lectual conception  was  at  once  facilitated  and  multiplied  through 
the  direction  given  by  the  Stageirite  to  the  empirical  investiga- 
tion of  facts  in  the  domain  of  nature,  to  the  profound  consider- 
ation of  speculative  hypothesis,  and  to  the  development  of  a 
language  of  science  based  on  strict  definition.  Thus  Aristotle 
must  still  remain,  for  thousands  of  years  to  come,  as  Dante  has 
gracefully  termed  him,  '  the  master  of  those  who  know.' ' 

During  this  period  the  most  important  political  phenomena 
were  the  formation  of  the  Achaian  League  for  the  common  de- 
fence and  federal  government  of  the  Peloponnesian  states,  and 
the  appearance  of  the  two  or  three  really  great  men  who  dis- 
tinguished themselves  by  their  abilities  and  virtues  in  the  clos- 
ing days  of  the  independence  of  Greece.  The  government 
of  this  confederacy  involved  a  partial  application  of  the  repre- 
sentative principle,  and  it  had  a  vigorous  executive  head.  Its 
long  resistance  to  the  Macedonian  monarchs,  and  finally  to  the 
might  of  Rome,  shows  with  what  energy  the  Achaian  Consti- 
tution was  animated ;  but  it  appeared  on  the  stage  too  late  to 
save  the  commonwealths  of  Greece  from  tne  political  annihila- 
tion to  which  they  had  long  been  doomed. 

In  the  sister  peninsula  a  power  had  grown  up  from  an  ob- 
scure and  not  very  reputable  origin.  Its  founders — sons  of  the 
god  of  war,  and  nursed  by  a  she-wolf  whose  gaunt  semblance 
in  bronze  is  one  of  the  most  striking  memorials  of  the  Capitol  — 


280  MODERN   GREECE. 

embody  the  idea,  if  not  the  fact,  on  which  the  Roman  suprem- 
acy was  built.  Rome  was  born  amidst  the  clang  of  arms ;  and 
every  son  of  hers,  from  the  beginning  to  the  culminating  height 
of  her  greatness,  was  an  incarnated  Mars,  consecrating  his 
warlike  deeds  and  his  heart's  blood,  if  need  were,  to  the' glory 
of  the  city  which  sat  in  unconquerable  pride  upon  her  seven 
hills.  State  after  state  of  ancient  Italy,  adorned  with  the  arts 
and  culture  of  a  thousand  years,  fell  before  the  concentrated 
energy  of  Roman  will,  guiding  the  resistless  force  of  the  Ro- 
man swoi'd.  The  Roman  is  stern  and  strong.  He  loves 
bravery,  and  is  not  averse  to  the  virtues  of  sincere  and  open 
conduct.  He  is  practical,  legislative,  organizing ;  but  he  has 
no  innate  love  of  letters,  and  no  genius  for  art. 

"  Tu  regere  imperio  populos,  Rouiane,  memento," 

was  in  the  heart  of  the  Roman,  ages  before  it  found  melodious 
utterance  in  Virgil's  hexameter.  But  the  empire  of  Rome  was 
not  that  of  rude  force  alone.  A  love  of  legal  order,  a  syste- 
matic administration  of  justice,  a  strict  subordination  of  the 
members  of  society  and  the  members  of  the  family,  were  the 
moral  foundations  on  which  the  state  reposed.  From  Greece, 
long  before  the  conquest,  she  borrowed  the  materials  of  her 
earliest  code  ;  and  when  the  progress  of  time  demanded  the 
elegancies  of  literature,  Greece  was  the  source  from  which  the 
genial  influence  came.  The  stage  at  Rome  is  trodden  by 
players  who  personate  Greek,  and  not  Roman  characters,  in 
pieces  constructed  from  the  plots  of  the  copious  dramatic  liter- 
ature of  Athens.  The  Roman  language  deserts  its  original 
rhythm,  and  is  moulded  to  the  more  plastic  measures  of  the 
Greek.  But  the  imperial  spirit  of  Rome  covets  the  dominion 
of  Hellas.  Occasions  and  pretexts  that  seem  to  justify  her  in- 
terference are  not  wanting.  Her  eagles  cross  the  Adriatic,  and, 
first  having  reduced  Etolia  and  Macedonia  to  Roman  provinces, 
then  commence  a  struggle  with  the  Achaian  League.  The 
Achaian  League,  like  other  opponents  of  Rome,  falls  before  the 
discipline  of  the  republican  arms,  and  the  destruction  of  Cor 


GREECE  UNDER  THE  ROMANS.  281 

inth  by  the  unlettered  Consul  Mummius  completes  the  subju- 
gation of  Greece,  which,  under  the  name  of  Achaia,  now  forms 
a  part  of  the  Roman  Empire.  Mummius  sends  off,  as  trophies 
of  his  victory,  many  of  the  choice  works  of  art  with  which  thaf 
capital  is  crowded;  and  so  ignorant  is  he  of  their  rare  excel- 
lence, that  he  tells  the  contractors  for  their  removal  to  be  very 
careful,  for  if  any  of  them  are  lost  he  shall  insist  upon  their 
supplying  their  place  with  others  equally  good.  The  Greeks, 
in  general,  took  but  little  interest  in  this  event,  regarding  it  as 
a  mere  political  change ;  and  the  wise  Polybius,  whose  writings 
are  a  storehouse  of  political  philosophy,  and  who  was  appointed 
by  the  Senate  to  make  the  circuit  of  the  Peloponnesian  cities 
and  expound  the  principles  of  the  Roman  Constitution,  thought 
so  despairingly  of  the  state  of  Grecian  affairs  previous  to  the 
Roman  conquest  that,  after  this  event  was  accomplished,  he 
said,  with  epigrammatic  point,  repeating  the  phrase  as  if  gath- 
ered from  the  lips  of  the  people,  "  Had  we  not  been  speedily 
ruined,  we  should  not  have  been  saved,"  —  so  deep  was  the 
conviction  at  that  time  that  the  dissensions  of  the  Greeks  made 
the  longer  preservation  of  their  independence  an  impossibility. 
An  able  historian,  Zosimus,  who,  in  the  fifth  century,  wrote  on 
the  decline  of  the  Roman  Empire,  truly  remarks  of  the  Greeks: 
"  Had  they  remained  contented  with  their  lot,  and  had  not 
the  Athenians  and  Lacedaemonians  fallen  into  dissension  and 
strife  for  the  supremacy  in  Grecian  affairs,  foreigners  would 
never  have  been  masters  of  Hellas."  This,  in  truth,  is  the 
moral  of  the  whole  story. 

The  Roman  administration  of  Greece,  commencing  about 
the  middle  of  the  second  century  before  Christ,  was  at  first  wise 
and  moderate.  The  public  burdens,  instead  of  being  increased, 
werti  lessened.  The  local  administrations  and  municipal  insti- 
tutions remained  unchanged,  so  far  as  they  were  compatible 
with  the  exercise  of  supreme  power  by  the  Romans.  The 
conquerors  felt  the  superiority  of  the  conquered  in  letters  and 
art ;  and  though  they  had  no  profound  appreciation  of  these 
excellent  ornaments  of  the  life  of  man,  yet  they  at  first  con- 


282  MODERN   GREECE. 

ceded  to  the  authors  and  cultivators  of  them  a  social  esteem 
very  flattering  to  the  vanity  of  the  Hellenic  race.  In  general, 
they  paid  respect  to  their  religious  feelings,  and  to  their  objects 
'of  worship,  so  that  the  plundering  of  temples  and  robbing  cities 
of  cherished  works  of  art,  which  afterwards  became  one  of  the 
most  irritating  forms  of  proconsular  oppression,  was  looked 
upon  with  abhorrence  by  the  honorable  men  at  Rome.  Po- 
lybius  uses  the  strongest  language  when  he  speaks  of  the 
Roman  honesty.  Under  these  circumstances,  as  Mr.  Finlay 
says,  "  prudence  and  local  interests  would  everywhere  favor 
submission  to  Rome ;  national  vanity  alone  would  whisper  in- 
citements to  venture  on  a  struggle  for  independence." 

The  Mithridatic  war  furnished  the  occasion  on  which  the 
national  vanity,  concurring  with  the  private  inclinations  of 
many  leading  men,  induced  the  Greeks  to  make  the  attempt 
to  regain  their  liberty.  Sulla  was  charged  with  the  conduct 
of  the  war  against  the  king  of  Pontus ;  and  when  he  appeared 
in  Greece  at  the  head  of  a  powerful  army,  Athens  confronted 
him  almost  single-handed,  the  other  states  having  submitted 
as  promptly  as  they  had  taken  up  arms.  Sulla  laid  siege  to 
the  city,  and  found  it  no  easy  task,  with  the  whole  force  of 
his  army  and  the  abundant  resources  with  which  he  was  sup- 
plied, to  reduce  the  fiery  republicans  under  the  energetic  com- 
mand of  Aristion.  At  last,  their  material  means  of  defence 
being  exhausted,  they  resorted  to  a  mode  of  proceeding  quite 
characteristic  of  the  Athenians,  —  they  sent  out  some  of  their 
orators  to  try  what  eloquence  could  do  with  the  hard-headed 
Roman.  Admitted  to  an  audience,  the  spokesman  began  to 
remind  the  general  of  their  past  glory,  and  was  proceeding 
to  touch  upon  Marathon,  when  the  surly  soldier  fiercely 
growled,  "  I  was  sent  here  to  punish  rebels,  not  to  study  his- 
tory." And  he  did  punish  them.  He  broke  down  the  wall 
l«tween  the  Peiraic  and  the  Sacred  Gate,  and  poured  in  his 
soldiers  to  plunder  and  slay.  With  drawn  swords  they  swept 
through  the  streets.  The  ground  ran  blood,  which  delugea 
with  its  horrid  tide  the   ancient  burying-place   of  the   Cera- 


GREECE   UNDER   THE   ROMANS.  2&H 

meicus.  Most  of  the  citizens  were  slain,  and  their  property 
was  plundered  by  the  soldiers.  The  groves  of  the  Academy 
and  the  Lyceum  were  cut  down,  and  columns  were  carried 
away  from  the  temple  of  Olympian  Zeus  to  ornament  the 
city  of  Rome.  The  town  of  Peiraaus  was  utterly  destroyed, 
being  treated  with  more  severity  than  Athens  itself.  From 
this  frightful  moment  the  decline  of  the  population  of  Greece 
commenced.  "  Both  parties,"  says  the  able  historian  to  whom 
I  have  already  alluded,  "  during  the  Mithridatic  war,  inflicted 
severe  injuries  on  Greece,  plundered  the  country,  and  de- 
stroyed property  most  wantonly,  while  many  of  the  losses 
were  never  repaired.  The  foundations  of  national  prosperity 
were  undermined ;  and  it  henceforward  became  impossible  to 
save  from  the  annual  consumption  of  the  inhabitants  the  sums 
necessary  to  replace  the  accumulated  capital  of  ages  which 
this  short  war  had  annihilated.  In  some  cases  the  wealth  of 
the  communities  became  insufficient  to  keep  the  existing  pub- 
lic works  in  repair." 

Scarcely  had  the  storm  of  Roman  war  passed  by,  when  the 
Cilician  ph*ates,  finding  the  coasts  of  Greece  peculiarly  favorable 
for  their  marauding  incursions,  and  tempted  by  the  wealth  accu- 
mulated in  the  cities  and  temples,  commenced  their  depreda- 
tions on  so  gigantic  a  scale  that  Rome  felt  obliged  to  put  forth 
all  her  military  forces  for  their  suppression.  The  exploits  of 
Pompey  the  Great,  who  was  clothed  with  autocratic  power 
to  destroy  this  gigantic  evil,  fill  the  brightest  chapter  in  the 
history  of  that  celebrated  but  too  unfortunate  commander. 
He  captured  ninety  brazen-beaked  ships,  and  took  twenty 
thousand  prisoners,  with  whom  he  repeopled  the  ancient  town 
of  Soli,  which  henceforth  was  called  Pompeiopolis.  The  civil 
wars  in  which  the  great  Republic  expired  had  the  fields  of 
(rreece  for  their  theatre.  Under  the  tramp  of  contending 
armies,  her  fertile  plains  were  desolated,  and  Roman  blood,  in 
a  cause  not  her  own,  again  and  again  moistened  her  soil. 

But  at  length  the  civil  wars  have  come  to  an  end,  and  the 
Empire  introduces,  for  the  first  time  in  the  melancholy  history 


284  MODERN   GREECE. 

of  man,  a  state  of  universal  peace.  Greece  still  maintains  her 
pre-eminence  in  literature  and  art,  and  her  schools  are  fre- 
quented by  the  sons  of  the  Roman  aristocracy.  Her  elder  poets 
serve  as  models  to  the  literary  genius  of  the  Augustan  age. 
Horace  copies  Alcseus,  and  admires  Sappho.  Virgil  imitates 
Theocritus  in  his  Eclogues,  and  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  in  his 
iEneid.  The  historians  form  themselves  on  Attic  prototypes; 
and  the  philosophers  of  Rome  divide  themselves  among  the  Gre- 
cian sects,  while  in  Athens  the  Platonists,  the  Stoics,  the  Peri- 
patetics, and  the  Epicureans  still  haunt  the  scenes  with  which 
the  names  of  their  masters  were  inseparably  associated.  The 
ancient  spirit  which  animated  the  breasts  of  the  Greeks  in  the 
republican  days,  and  which  broke  forth  like  an  expiring  gleam 
in  Philopcemen  and  Polybius,  had  either  utterly  vanished  from 
the  hearts  of  the  people,  or  had  been  smothered  and  oppressed 
into  silence  by  the  evils  of  the  times.  The  country  was,  how- 
ever, still  covered  with  splendid  temples,  and  crowded  with 
works  of  art,  —  the  productions  of  the  best  ages  ;  nor  had  the 
practice  of  art  been  entirely  lost.  But  the  ravages  of  war  had 
left  the  principal  cities  in  such  a  condition,  that  even  in  the 
time  of  Cicero  they  suggested  melancholy  reflections  to  the 
most  thoughtful  minds.  Says  Sulpicius,  in  his  letter  of  con- 
solation to  the  great  orator:  "When  I  returned  from  Asia,  and 
was  sailing  from  jEgina  towards  Megara,  I  began  to  gaze  upon 
the  regions  around  me.  Behind  me  lay  -<Egina  ;  before  me, 
Megara;  on  my  right,  Peirseus;  on  my  left,  Corinth,  —  cities 
which  once  were  most  flourishing,  but  now  lie  overwhelmed 
and  in  ruins."  Such  was  the  general  aspect  of  that  illus- 
trious region  even  then  ;  but  the  great  temples,  whose  ruins 
s:ill  astonish  the  traveller  by  their  magnificence  and  melan- 
choly beauty,  had  suffered  nothing  from  time,  and  compara- 
tively little  from  the  hand  of  man.  They  were  regarded, 
even  by  those  who  had  no  conception  of  the  genius  required 
for  their  construction,  witn  a  certain  awe  and  reverence, 
though  they  already  began  to  despise  the  decaying  nation  thaf 
built  them. 


GREECE   UNDER   THE   ROMANS.  285 

The  establishment  of  the  Empire  made  but  little  change 
in  the  administration  of  Greece.  Augustus,  indeed,  showed 
no  grea^  solicitude,  except  to  maintain  the  country  in  subjec- 
tion by  his  military  colonies, — especially  those  of  Patras  and 
Nicopolis.  He  even  deprived  Athens  of  the  privileges  she  had 
enjoyed  under  the  Republic,  and  broke  down  the  remaining 
power  of  Sparta  by  declaring  the  independence  of  her  subject 
towns.  Some  of  his  successors  treated  the  country  with  favor, 
and  endeavored,  by  a  clement  use  of  authority,  to  mitigate 
the  sufferings  of  its  decline.  Even  Nero,  the  amiable  fiddler 
of  Rome,  was  proud  to  display  the  extent  of  his  musical  abili- 
ties in  their  theatres.  He  listened  eagerly  to  the  flatteries  of 
the  Greeks,  as  they  accompanied  him  from  city  to  city;  re- 
ceived with  complacency  the  eighteen  hundred  laurel  crowns 
with  which  they  decorated  him ;  and  when  at  last,  in  an  ex- 
cess of  adulation  which  it  is  wonderful  he  did  not  suspect  of 
satire,  they  styled  him  the  Saviour  of  the  Human  Race,  the 
monster  repaid  the  compliment  by  declaring  them  free  from 
tribute.  The  noble  Trajan  allowed  the  Greeks  to  retain  their 
former  local  privileges,  and  did  much  to  improve  their  con- 
dition by  his  wise  and  just  administration. 

Hadrian  was  a  passionate  lover  of  Greek  art  and  literature. 
Athens  especially  received  the  amplest  benefits  from  his  taste 
and  wealth.  He  finished  the  temple  of  Olympian  Zeus ; 
established  a  public  library ;  built  a  pantheon  and  a  gymna- 
sium ;  rebuilt  the  temple  of  Apollo  at  Megara ;  improved  the 
old  roads  of  Greece  and  made  new  ones,  and  especially  ren- 
dered the  difficult  highway  into  Peloponnesus  by  the  Scironian 
Rocks  passable  for  wheeled  carriages.  A  part  of  this  road  is 
still  to  be  seen,  running  along  those  dangerous  and  lofty  pre- 
cipices, with  the  ruined  masses  of  the  immense  substructions 
which  supported  it.  Antoninus  and  Marcus  Aurelius  showed 
good  will  to  Greece.  The  latter  reb'iilt  the  temple  at  Eleusis* 
md  improved  the  Athenian  schools,  raising  the  salaries  of  the 
teachers,  and  in  various  ways  contributing  to  make  Athens,  as 
it  had  been  before,  the  most  illustrious  seat  of  learning  in  the 
world 


286  MODERN   GREECE. 

It  was  in  the  reign  of  this  Emperor,  in  the  second  century 
of  our  era,  that  one.  of  the  greatest  benefactors  of  Athens  and 
all  Greece  lived,  —  Herodes  Atticus,  distinguished  alike  for 
wealth,  learning,  and  eloquence.  Born  at  Marathon  within 
sight  of  the  spot  where  the  Persian  hosts  were  defeated,  edu- 
cated at  Athens  by  the  best  teachers  his  father's  wealth  could 
procure,  he  became  on  going  to  Rome,  in  early  life,  the  rhetor- 
ical teacher  of  Marcus  Aurelius  himself.  Antoninus  Pius  be- 
stowed on  him  the  honor  of  the  consulship ;  but  he  preferred 
the  career  of  a  teacher  at  Athens  to  the  highest  political  dig- 
nities which  imperial  favor  placed  within  his  reach,  and  he 
was  followed  thither  by  young  men  of  the  most  eminent 
Roman  families,  from  the  Emperor's  down.  At  a  later  period 
he  withdrew  from  Athens  to  Cephissia,  a  town  about  eight 
miles  distant,  which  he  adorned  by  a  magnificent  villa,  with 
porticos,  walks,  groves,  and  fountains,  traces  of  which  still  re- 
main. At  Athens,  south  of  the  Ilissus,  he  built  the  stadium, 
lined  with  Pentelic  marble,  whose  enormous  dimensions  testify 
to  the  munificent  liberality  of  the  princely  citizen  ;  and  the 
theatre  of  Regilla,  so  named  in  honor  of  his  wife,  at  the  south- 
western angle  of  the  Acropolis,  the  walls,  arches,  and  seats  of 
which  are  to  a  great  extent  still  remaining,  though  the  interior 
is  encumbered  with  the  accumulated  rubbish  of  sixteen  cen- 
turies. At  Corinth  he  built  a  theatre ;  at  Olympia,  an  aque- 
duct ;  at  Delphi,  a  race-course ;  and  at  Thermopylae,  a  hospi- 
tal. Peloponnesus,  Euboea,  Boeotia,  and  Epeirus  experienced 
his  bounty ;  and  even  Italy  was  not  forgotten  in  the  lavish 
distribution  of  his  wealth.  He  died  in  A.  D.  180.  The  grate- 
ful citizens  of  Athens  would  not  allow  his  body  to  be  buried  at 
Marathon,  as  he  had  desired,  but  insisted  on  bestowing  upon 
his  remains  every  honor  in  their  power  to  devise.  His  praises 
were  commemorated  in  a  funeral  discourse  by  his  friend  and 
pupil  Adrianus,  of  wThose  genius  Herodes  had  expressed  the 
strongest  admiration.  Of  the  numerous  literary  works  of  this 
illustrious  citizen,  whose  character  and  genius  gild  the  de- 
clining days  of  Athens,  nothing  has  been  preserved;  but  few 


GREECE   UNDER   THE  ROMANS.  287 

have  left  so  many  traces  of  public  spirit  and  generosity  in  the 
land  of  their  birth. 

About  the  middle  of  the  third  century,  the  Gothic  hordes 
began  to  appear  on  the  northern  frontiers  of  Greece.  A  few 
years  later  they  crossed  the  Hellespont  and  the  iEgean,  and 
descended  upon  the  coasts  of  Attica.  Disembarking  at  the 
Peiraeus,  they  marched  upon  Athens,  which  was  bravely  but 
unsuccessfully  defended  by  Dexippus,  who  added  the  abilities 
of  a  general  to  the  attainments  of  a  scholar  and  a  philosopher. 
I  am  sorry  we  have  so  few  traces  of  this  accomplished  warrior. 
He  did  not  let  the  Goths  escape  with  impunity ;  but,  rallying 
his  followers  in  a  grove  near  the  city,  addressed  them  in  an 
animating  harangue  :  — 

"  Bravery,  and  not  the  number  of  combatants,  controls  the 
issue  of  war.  Our  force  is  still  considerable.  Our  army  num- 
bers two  thousand  warriors :  our  position  is  concealed.  From 
this  spot  we  must  attack  the  enemy  when  they  disperse  over 
the  country.     So  will  victory  inspire  us  with  new  vigor,  and 

fill  the  enemy  with  terror If  we  meet  them  in  open 

fight,  reflect  that  courage  mounts  with  danger.  Victory  comes 
unhoped  for  in  the  hour  of  need,  and  in  battle  for  all  that  is 
dearest,  when  the  soldier  is  animated  with  the  hope  of  revenge. 
And  who  have  a  juster  cause  of  vengeance  than  we,  who  see 
our  families  and  our  city  in  the  power  of  the  enemy  ?  ....  I 
am  resolved  to  share  your  fate,  —  to  fight  boldly  for  all  that  is 
dearest ;  and  be  assured  I  will  take  care  that  through  me  the 

glory  of  our  city  shall  never  be  dishonored It  becomes 

us  to  remember  the  deeds  of  our  fathers ;  to  shine  forth  an  ex- 
ample of  bravery  and  freedom  to  the  other  Greeks ;  and  to 
secure  for  ourselves,  among  the  present  and  future  generations, 
the  imperishable  renown  of  having  shown  by  our  actions  that 
the  courage  of  the  Athenians  remains  unbroken,  even  in  ad- 
versity. We  march  to  battle  to  redeem  our  children,  and  all 
that  is  dear  to  us.     May  tbe  gods  be  our  support  I  " 

The  army  received  his  words  in  a  transport  of  enthusiasm, 
and  demanded  to  be  led  to  instant  battle.     We  have  no  clear 


<>88  MODERN   GREECE. 

account  of  what  followed ;  but  it  appears  that,  after  the  bar- 
barians had  sated  themselves  with  the  plunder  of  the  city,  they 
found  some  difficulty  in  escaping  to  their  ships,  or  hurrying  to 
the  North.  They  rushed  tumultuously  through  Boeotia,  Acar- 
nania,  Thessaly,  and  Epeirus,  spreading  terror  and  destruction 
wherever  they  went.  We  know,  however,  that  Athens  was 
subjected  to  the  plunder  of  these  savages.  It  is  related  by 
Zonaras,  that  one  of  the  Gothic  chiefs,  finding  a  party  of  his 
soldiers  on  the  point  of  burning  the  libraries  of  Athens,  having 
collected  the  books  in  a  pile,  told  them  to  leave  these  things 
to  the  effeminate  Greeks  ;  for  the  hand  accustomed  to  the 
smoothness  of  papyrus  would  but  feebly  grasp  the  brand  of  the 
warrior.  Happy  influence  of  letters,  which,  had  it  universally 
prevailed,  would  have  saved  the  earth  from  becoming  the 
dreadful  slaughter-house  it  has  been  in  every  age,  and  seems 
likely  to  be  again  in  ours ! 

The  language  of  Greece,  no  longer  existing  under  the 
forms  of  numerous  dialects  of  equal  classical  authority  in  their 
several  countries  and  in  special  departments  of  literature,  had 
become,  under  the  designation  of  the  Later  Attic,  or  Hel- 
lenistic, the  medium  of  political  communication  and  literary 
composition  throughout,  the  Eastern  world.  Intellectual  ac- 
tivity in  Egypt,  where  the  institutions  of  the  Ptolemies  were 
respected  by  the  Roman  Emperors,  assumed  a  motley  aspect 
among  the  philosophic  and  Oriental  systems  and  jargons,  which 
were  concentrated  in  an  astonishing  medley  in  this  land  of  pyr- 
amids and  hieroglyphics.  Of  the  poetical  names  which  shine 
with  mild  lustre  here  we  have  Callimachus,  the  author  of  the 
Hymns  ;  Theocritus,  the  pastoral  poet,  whose  naive  Sicilian 
Doric  still  charms  the  student  more  than  the  stately  imitations 
of  Virgil ;  Apollonius,  the  Rhodian  ;  Lycophron,  chiefly  fa- 
mous for  his  unintelligibility,  whose  sixty  tragedies  (thank 
Heaven ! )  have  not  come  down  to  us.  In  history  we  have 
\rrian,  who  wrote  the  narrative  of  Alexander's  campaigns  ;  in 
prose  eloquence,  Dion  Chrysostomus,  whose  orations  are  among 
the  best  specimens  of  writing  in  that  period;  while  Lucian'i 


GREECE   UNDER   THE   ROMANS.  289 

grave  irony,  incomparable  wit,  polished  Attic  style,  and  unsur- 
passed good-sense  will  make  him  a  favorite  so  long  as  a  taste 
for  these  qualities  survives  among  men. 

Christianity  was  early  preached  *and  churches  established, 
nrf  only  among  the  Greeks  of  Asia  Minor,  but  on  the  conti- 
nent of  Greece,  as  appears  by  the  apostolic  documents  them- 
selves. The  most  memorable  passage  in  the  apostolic  history 
beyond  all  comparison  is  the  appearance  of  St.  Paul  at  Athens, 
and  his  discourse  to  the  philosophers  who  courteously  invited 
him  up  the  hill  of  Mars,  the  most  sacred  and  venerable  spot 
from  the  mythical  times  down  to  the  latest  days  of  Attic 
splendor. 

The  Greeks,  though  some  of  them  found  the  preaching  of 
the  Apostles  foolishness,  were  in  many  respects  morally  and 
intellectually  susceptible  of  its  influences.  Some  of  the  elder 
thinkers  had  almost  reasoned  out  the  distinguishing  doctrines 
of  Christianity.  Plato,  looking  upon  the  sorrowful  and  fallen 
•ondition  of  man,  had  felt  the  need  of  a  Divine  Being  to  raise 
him  up  and  restore  him  to  the  lost  dignity  of  his  nature.  Soc- 
rates, his  master,  had  reflected  upon  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
and  the  joys  of  a  better  life  to  come,  until  these  sublime  truths 
assumed  a  clearness  and  consistency  that  nerved  him  to  the 
felon's  death  which  an  unjust  sentence  had  doomed  him  to 
suffer ;  and  just  as  he  was  about  to  drink  the  fatal  hemlock, 
he  gave  utterance  to  the  evangelic  principle,  that  it  is  better 
to  forgive  injuries  than  to  avenge  them.  The  tenderness  and 
humanity  of  the  Christian  faith  found  an  echo  in  the  Grecian 
heart ;  and  a  sentiment  deeper  than  curiosity  —  though  that 
mingled  largely  in  the  emotions  of  the  hour  —  secured  to  the 
great  Apostle  the  respectful  attention  of  the  most  cultivated 
audience  he  ever  addressed.  Philosophy  had  strengthened 
the  advanced  minds  of  Greece,  and  the  most  accomplished 
'intellects  of  Rome,  but  still  had  left  a  profound  void  in  the 
heart.  No  doubt,  when  death  parted  families,  bereaving 
the  parent  of  the  hope  and  the  charm  of  life,  or  leaving  ten- 
der children  orphans  in  a  desolate  world,  the  sunshine  of  na- 

VOL.    II.  19 


290  MODERN   GREECE. 

ture  lighted  the  universe  in  vain  for  their  sorrowing  spirits, 
and  the  theories  of  philosophy  fell  far  short  of  that  blessed 
assurance  which  alone  could  soothe  the  agony  of  the  dark 
hour.  At  this  period  the'belief  in  the  ancient  divinities  must 
have  died  out  in  nearly  every  thinking  mind.  The  glory  of 
the  nation  had  suffered  an  eclipse,  from  which  the  gods  of 
Olympus  had  been  powerless  to  save.  Private  life  had  been 
overwhelmed  with  disaster  and  woe  ;  and  philosophy  could 
help  only  the  sterner  natures  to  bear  the  general  lot  with 
composure.  The  tenderness  of  the  sepulchral  inscriptions  in 
the  anthologies,  and  of  those  briefer  ejaculations  of  sorrowing 
affection  from  the  dying  to  the  living  and  the  living  to  the 
dying,  which  still  speak  to  us  so  touchingly  from  the  crum- 
bling marbles  of  ancient  Hellenic  tombs,  tells  us  by  what  is 
not  said,  still  more  eloquently  than  by  what  is  expressed,  how 
ready  was  the  heart  of  Hellas  for  the  deeper  consolations 
of  the  Christian  faith. 

The  temples  remained  in  their  magnificence;  ceremonies 
and  processions  represented  the  ancient  pomp  of  popular 
worship :  but,  in  many  cases,  the  wealth  belonging  to  them 
was  monopolized  by  private  persons,  or  diverted  from  its  relig- 
ious use  by  the  corporations  charged  with  its  management, 
and  Christianity  gained  a  victory  —  though  not  without  a  long 
struggle  against  the  conservative  element  of  Paganism — over 
the  indifference  of  the  people  to  their  ancient  rites. 

Besides  the  peculiar  consolations  afforded  by  Christianity 
to  the  afflicted  of  all  ranks  and  classes,  there  were  popular 
elements  in  its  early  forms  which  could  not  fail  to  commend 
it  to  the  regards  of  common  men.  It  borrowed  the  designa- 
tion ecclesia  from  the  old  popular  assembly,  and  liturgy  from 
the  services  required  by  law  of  the  richer  citizens  in  the  pop- 
alar  festivities.  It  taught  the  equality  of  all  men  in  the  sight 
of  God ;  and  this  doctrine  could  not  fail  to  be  affectionately 
welcomed  by  a  down-trodden  people.  The  Christian  con- 
gregations were  organized  upon  democratic  principles,  at  least 
in  Greece,  and  presented  a  semblance  of  the  free  assemblies 


GREECE   UNl'ER   THE   ROMANS.  291 

of  former  times ;  and  the  daily  business  of  communities  was, 
equally  with  their  spiritual  affairs,  transacted  under  these  pop- 
ular forms.  "  From  the  moment  a  people,"  says  a  recent 
writer,  "  in  the  state  of  intellectual  civilization  in  which  the 
Greeks  were,  could  listen  to  the  preachers,  it  was  certain  they 
would  adopt  the  religion.  They  might  alter,  modify,  or  cor- 
rupt it,  but  it  was  impossible  they  should  reject  it.  The  exist- 
ence of  an  assembly  in  which  the  dearest  interests  of  all  human 
beings  were  expounded  and  discussed  in  the  language  of  truth, 
and  with  the  most  earnest  expressions  of  persuasion,  must  have 
lent  an  irresistible  charm  to  the  investigation  of  the  new  doc- 
trine among  a  people  possessing  the  institutions  and  feelings  of 
the  Greeks.  Sincerity,  truth,  and  a  desire  to  persuade  others, 
will  soon  create  eloquence,  where  numbers  are  gathered  to- 
gether. Christianity  revived  oratory,  and  with  oratory  it 
awakened  many  of  the  characteristics  which  had  slept  for  ages. 
The  discussions  of  Christianity  gave  also  new  vigor  to  the  com- 
mercial and  municipal  institutions,  as  they  improved  the  intel- 
lectual qualities  of  the  people." 

But  it  was  impossible  for  such  organizations  to  exist,  with- 
out gradually  rising  to  an  important  influence  in  the  state ;  and 
it  was  impossible  for  the  maxims  of  Christianity  to  gain  an  ex- 
tensive prevalence,  without  coming  into  collision  with  the  max- 
ims of  the  Roman  government.  The  responsibility  of  rulers 
and  the  ruled  to  a  common  and  inexorable  tribunal  could  not 
be  very  tasteful  to  the  rapacious  masters  of  the  Roman  Em- 
pire ;  and  the  doctrine  of  equality  and  brotherhood  was  a 
strange  lesson  for  those  whose  policy  and  arms  had  enslaved 
the  world.  A  bond  which  united  the  Christians  of  all  coun- 
tries in  the  strictest  relations  of  friendship  and  affection  could 
not  but  be  viewed  with  suspicion  by  those  who  regarded  the 
^itizenship  of  Rome  as  the  most  binding  and  exalted  relation 
possible  among  men.  The  Roman,  too,  was  in  his  nature  less 
susceptible  of  religious  influences  than  the  Greek.  He  looked 
upon  Christianity  in  its  supposed  political  bearings,  and  per- 
secuted it  accordingly.     But,  in  spite  of  all  obstacles,  in  defi 


•IVX  MODERN   GREECE. 

ance  of  all  persecutions,  Christianity,  in  the  earlier  ages,  iden- 
tified itself  with  the  habits,  thoughts,  sentiments,  hopes,  and 
nationality  of  the  Hellenic  race.  It  was  bound  up  with  their 
Ianguags,  in  which  the  Apostles  and  earlier  Christian  fathers 
preached  and  taught  and  wrote.  It  held  them  together,  and 
saved  them  from  absorption  into  the  vast  body  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  and  from  annihilation  by  the  hordes  of  barbarians 
which  swept  the  country  like  a  whirlwind  or  settled  upon  it 
like  devouring  locusts.  It  ascended  the  throne  with  Constan- 
tine,  who  carried  it  to  Byzantium ;  and  perhaps  we  shall  see  it 
again  ascend  the  throne  of  that  ancient  capital,  supplant  the 
crescent  by  the  cross,  and  reconsecrate  the  mosque  of  Saint 
Sophia  to  the  service  of  that  Holy  Wisdom  to  which  its 
imposing  grandeur  was  originally  consecrated. 

"  Be  but  Byzantium's  native  sign 

Of  cross  on  crescent  once  unfurled, 

And  Greece  shall  guard,  by  right  divine, 

The  portals  of  the  Eastern  world." 


LECTURE    III. 

FEOM   CONSTANTINE   TO   THE   BYZANTINE   PERIOD. 

In  the  last  Lecture  I  gave  a  cursory  review  of  the  history  of 
ti*e  Greeks,  down  to  the  time  when  Christianity,  having  taken 
a  strong  hold  of  the  national  feelings  and  identified  itself  with 
the  institutions  and  ideas  of  the  country,  ascended  the  imperial 
throne  in  the  person  of  Constantine.  Of  course,  with  this  im- 
portant event,  and,  in  all  worldly  aspects,  most  brilliant  tri- 
umph, the  persecution  of  the  Church  ceased,  and  a  period  of 
profound  tranquillity  ensued.  Constantine  was  not  a  very  at- 
tractive specimen  of  the  Christian  character.  He  was  able, 
energetic,  and  unscrupulous  about  the  means  of  accomplishing 
his  ends.  If  the  life  of  a  rival  or  an  antagonist  stood  in  his  way, 
he  had  no  hesitation  about  taking  it :  and  the  blood  of  those 
bound  to  him  by  relationship  was  not  always  spared.  But  he 
deserves  the  praise  of  being  less  sanguinaiy  and  remorseless 
than  was  usual  among  the  candidates  for  the  imperial  throne  in 
those  unhappy  centuries.  He  was  no  bigot  to  Paganism  before 
he  embraced  Christianity ;  and  he  was  sufficiently  enlightened 
to  understand  the  uselessness  of  persecuting  an  enthusiastic, 
growing,  and  in  the  main,  as  he  must  have  perceived,  a  truly 
moral  and  sincerely  pious  sect.  His  conduct  was  marked  by 
this  wise  moderation  on  religious  subjects  before  he  reached  the 
throne  ;  and  after  he  became  master  of  the  world  he  refused  to 
persecute  either  Pagans  or  Christians.  It  was  not  until  towards 
the  end  of  his  life  that  he  openly  professed  the  religion  he  had 
long  favored,  and  put  the  seal  to  his  conversion  by  the  rite 
of  baptism.  He  had  protected  the  Christian,  and  encouraged 
the  Pagan.       He  presided  in  a  Christian  Council  before  hf> 


V294  MODERN   GREECE. 

C 

v  professed  the  Christian  religion.  His  coin  appears  with  the 
Christian  monogram,  and  the  attributes  of  a  heathen  god. 
Having  enjoyed  the  honors  of  a  Pontifex  Maximus,  he  was 
baptized  to  secure  the  certainty  of  Christian  salvation.  Aftei 
death  he  was  worshipped  as  a  god,  and  adored  as  a  saint.  Per- 
haps, on  the  whole,  no  man  ever  more  completely  verified  the 
old  Latin  definition  of  a  politician, — homo  ita  serviens  Deo  ut 
Diabolum  non  offendat,  —  "a  man  so  serving  God  as  not  to  of- 
fend the  Devil." 

One  effect  of  the  transfer  of  the  seat  of  government  to  By- 
zantium was  to  bring  the  Greeks  into  more  direct  communi- 
cation with  the  Roman  administration.  It  was  the  aim  of  the 
first  Roman  Emperors  in  Byzantium — those  of  the  fourth,  fifth, 
and  sixth  centuries  —  to  establish  the  Latin  language,  the  Ro- 
man law,  and  Roman  institutions  generally,  on  a  more  perma- 
nent footing  than  they  had  yet  had  in  the  East.  The  influence 
of  the  court  had  some  effect.  Those  who  were  connected  with 
it,  or  dependent  on  its  favors,  prided  themselves  on  adopting 
the  style,  manners,  and  dignities  of  Roman  officials :  they  called 
themselves  Romans,  and  their  country  Rome ;  and  even  the 
spoken  Greek  language  was  subsequently  known,  and  is  known 
down  to  the  present  day,  as  the  Romaic.  In  the  writings  of 
those  times  we  find  a  strange  jumble  of  Latin  with  the  Greek, 
especially  in  the  legal  documents.  But  this  effect  did  not  ex- 
tend among  the  Greeks  generally.  The  strong  nationality  of 
the  race  easily  withstood  the  tide  of  foreign  manners ;  and, 
while  the  dignitaries  of  the  Empire  and  some  of  the  leading 
ecclesiastics  were  indulging  in  the  pomps  and  ceremonies  of 
the  Roman  court  at  Constantinople,  the  body  of  the  Greek 
people  and  the  humbler  clergy  remained  faithful  to  Hellenic 
ideas,  and  to  the  simple  forms  of  the  religion  they  had  re- 
ceived from  the  Apostles  and  their  immediate  successors.  In 
fact,  their  aim  was  to  make  Constantinople  a  Greek,  and  not  a 
Latin  city.  The  Roman  spirit  of  the  administration  was  grad- 
ually destroyed,  though  the  capital  resisted  the  national  feeling 
and,  giving  itself  up  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  largesses  and  the 


FROM  CONSTANTINE  TO  THE  BYZANTINE  PERIOD.     295 

games  of  the  circus  granted  by  the  favor  of  the  Emperors, 
remained  insensible  to  the  sufferings  of  the  provinces  and  the 
decline  of  the  Empire. 

It  does  not  accord  with  my  purpose  to  recapitulate  the  mili- 
tary and  civil  changes  introduced  into  the  machinery  of  thp 
government  by  Constantine,  and  which,  though  skilfully  ar- 
ranged, separated  the  administration,  as  a  bureaucracy,  from 
the  national  feelings,  originating  that  opposition  between  the 
interests  of  the  government  and  those  of  the  people  which  still 
crushes  the  hopes  of  the  patriot  over  a  great  portion  of  the 
civilized  world.  In  Greece,  the  local  governments  were  al- 
lowed to  exist ;  but  the  public  burdens  were  rigorously  en- 
forced by  the  imperial  government,  so  that  the  reforms  inau- 
gurated by  Constantine  were  of  no  substantial  benefit  to  the 
Greeks  as  a  nation.  A  system  of  monopoly, — since  imitated 
bv  that  over-praised  barbarian,  the  Pacha  of  Egypt, — in  which 
the  Emperor  and  the  members  of  the  imperial  household  largely 
shared,  interfered  with  the  natural  course  of  commerce,  and 
tended  to  impoverish  the  provinces,  and  to  weaken  the  bar- 
riers which  the  Empire  had  maintained  against  the  inroads  of 
the  barbarians. 

The  remarkable  career  of  the  Emperor  Julian,  who  as- 
cended the  throne  in  361  A.  D.,  twenty -four  years  after  the 
death  of  Constantine,  deserves  a  brief  notice,  with  reference 
to  its  bearings  on  the  condition  and  fortunes  of  the  Greeks. 
In  his  childhood  and  youth,  though  under  the  jealous  eye 
of  Constantius,  and  deprived  of  liberty,  he  was  nevertheless 
carefully  educated,  both  in  the  dogmas  of  the  established 
Church  and  in  Greek  and  Roman  literature.  Athens  was 
still  the  centre  of  Greek  culture  ;  and  here,  after  obtaining 
with  difficulty  the  Emperor's  consent,  Julian  was  permitted 
for  a  time  to  lead  the  life  of  a  private  scholar.  His  acquire- 
ments and  his  elegant  tastes  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
most  eminent  masters,  and  he  passed  his  time  with  a  circle  of 
young  men  of  congenial  pursuits,  among  whom  was  Gregory 
of   Nazianzus,    who    was    afterwards    known    as    a    Christian 


296  MODERN   GREECE. 

orator,  a  bitter  enemy  of  the  apostate  Emperor,  and  a  fiery 
antagonist  of  the  Arians.  In  a  short  time  Julian  was  roused 
from  these  peaceful  pursuits,  and  placed  in  a  military  command 
in  the  western  and  northern  provinces  of  the  Empire.  He 
describes  his  feelings  on  quitting  Athens,  in  his  letter  to  the 
Athenians :  "  What  fountains  of  tears  did  I  shed,  what  lam- 
entations did  I  utter,  stretching  my  hands  up  towards  the 
Aci'opolis,  when  I  besought  and  supplicated  Athene  to  save 
her  servant,  and  not  to  abandon  him !  "  His  brilliant  suc- 
cesses again  awoke  the  jealousy  of  the  Emperor  Constantius, 
who  recalled  the  better  portion  of  his  troops,  under  pretence 
of  needing  them  for  the  defence  of  the  East.  The  troops 
refused  to  obey,  and,  breaking  into  the  lodgings  of  their  be- 
loved commander,  forced  him  to  accept  the  imperial  crown. 
Before  he  came  into  actual  conflict  with  the  armies  of  the  East, 
the  Emperor  died ;  and  now,  without  opposition,  Julian  mounted 
the  throne.  Up  to  this  moment  he  had  disguised  his  apostasy 
from  the  religion  in  which  he  had  been  educated,  though  it  had 
already  been  suspected  by  his  brother  Gallus,  by  Gregory,  and 
perhaps  by  others.  The  policy  of  Constantine,  the  cruelty  of 
Constantius,  and  the  persecuting  spirit  already  displaying  itself 
between  the  Orthodox  and  Arians,  backed  by  the  arguments 
of  the  Athenian  philosophers  with  whom  he  had  chiefly  as- 
sociated, had  completely  alienated  him  from  the  Christian  faith. 
He,  however,  published  an  edict  of  toleration,  professing  to 
secure  to  both  Christians  and  Pagans  the  rights  of  conscience ; 
but  he  gratified  his  private  inclination  by  preferring  Pagans 
to  Christians  in  civil  and  military  offices,  and  forbidding  Chris- 
tians to  teach  rhetoric  and  grammar  in  the  schools.  He  was 
initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  Eleusis  ;  did  much  towards  re- 
storing Athens,  Argos,  and  Corinth  to  their  ancient  splendor  • 
re-established  the  Isthmian  games ;  and  in  many  other  ways 
manifested  his  passionate  attachment  to  Greece,  her  literature, 
her  institutions,  and  her  arts.  But  the  dream  of  restoring  tc 
her  declining  gods  the  ancient  reverence  was  that  of  an 
enthusiast,  though  an  imperial  enthusiast;  of  a  pedant  in 
Paganism,  though  a  very  able  and  perhaps  honest  pedant. 


FROM   CONST  ANTINE  TO  THE  BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  297 

The  conflicting  passions  of  the  age  have  given  rise  to  dis- 
torted views  of  Julian's  character.  The  adherents  of  the  old 
mythology  regarded  him  as  a  god,  while  most  of  the  Christians, 
of  his  own  and  subsequent  times,  believed  him  little  better  than 
a  devil.  The  work  he  wrote  against  the  Christian  dogmas, 
though  it  excited  a  prodigious  controversy  in  its  day,  is  known 
only  by  tradition,  and  through  extracts  preserved  by  Cyril, 
who  replied  to  it,  —  the  copies  of  the  book  having  been  de- 
stroyed by  Theodosius  II.  The  impression  made  by  his  name 
in  later  times  is  due  chiefly  to  the  odious  epithet  of  Apostate, 
which  is  uniformly  his  designation.  In  reality,  he  was  a  phi- 
losopher of  great  moderation,  and  a  sovereign  whose  reign 
was  distinguished,  above  those  of  most  of  his  successors,  for  de- 
votion to  the  happiness  of  the  people.  Those  of  his  writings 
which  are  not  on  controversial  subjects  display  uncommon 
literary  talent,  for  the  age,  and  some  of  them  are  of  great 
historical  importance.  Two  or  three  of  them  —  his  "  Csesars, 
or  the  Banquet,"  and  the  "Misopogon,"  or  Beard-Hater — ex- 
hibit a  considerable  talent  for  satire.  But  his  deliberately  pre- 
ferring Paganism  to  Christianity,  in  consequence  of  the  quar- 
rels and  scandalous  conduct  of  some-  of  the  professors  of  the 
latter,  and  the  superior  urbanity  and  literary  accomplishments 
of  some  of  the  adherents  of  the  former,  instead  of  forming 
his  opinion  upon  the  moral  and  religious  ideas  which  lie  at 
the  foundation  of  the  two,  respectively,  will  justly  and  for- 
ever deprive  him  of  the  praise  of  being  a  profound  thinker. 
He  borrowed  from  the  Christians  many  of  their  peculiar  views 
of  duty,  without  knowing  or  acknowledging  that  they  had  not 
been  inspired  by  heathenism.  He  founded  charities,  provided  for 
the  poor,  aimed  at  the  suppression  of  vice  and  profligacy,  just  as 
if  he  had  been  a  zealous  Christian  prince ;  while  his  speech 
and  his  writings  breathed  nothing  but  sarcasm  against  the  Gali- 
leans, as  he  contemptuously  called  the  followers  of  Christ.  He 
abhorred  the  theatre  with  as  much  fervor  as  Athanasius  did. 
He  could  seldom  be  persuaded  to  appear  in  the  hippodrome, 
and  then  only  for  a  few  moments.     The  licentious  festivities 


5298  MODERN   GREECE 

with  which  his  arrival  was  greeted  at  Antioch  were  as  odious 
to  him  as  they  would  have  been  to  Oliver  Cromwell.  As  he 
was  paraded  through  the  city,  under  the  escort  of  pimps  and 
parasites  and  dancing  women,  to  the  sound  of  soft  music  and 
lascivious  songs,  he  was  as  absurdly  out  of  place  as  a  professor 
of  moral  philosophy  would  be  among  the  orgies  of  the  Five 
Points.  His  description  of  the  morals  of  Antioch,  in  the 
Misopogon,  corresponds  exactly  with  that  of  St.  Chrysostom 
in  his  homilies,  and  his  own  personal  asceticism  would  have 
shone  with  saintly  austerity  among  the  enthusiasts  of  the  The- 
baid.  These  singularities  brought  him  frequently  into  strange 
companionship,  both  among  Christians  and  heathens.  His  love 
of  letters  was  often  too  strong  for  his  religious  prejudices ;  and 
he  lost  no  occasion  for  testifying  his  appreciation  of  learning, 
even  in  one  of  the  hated  sect.  But  he  did  not  always  dis- 
criminate wisely ;  apparently  thinking  that  one  Christian  was 
as  good  or  as  bad  as  another ;  or  that,  where  the  best  were 
low  enough,  the  worst  were  but  little  lower. 

Among  Julian's  contemporaries  was  that  prince  of  rogues, 
the  patron  saint  of  England.  St.  George  of  Cappadocia,  a  man 
of  low  birth  and  of  lower  character,  led  a  singular  life,  and  has 
had,  in  ecclesiastical  history  and  fable,  a  very  singular  post- 
mortem fortune.  He  began  with  being  a  parasite  of  the  rich. 
Then  he  was  a  contractor  to  supply  the  army  with  bacon,  and 
cheated  in  the  performance  of  his  engagements.  He  wandered 
about  for  a  time,  and  then  fixed  himself  in  Alexandria,  where 
he  began  to  do  mischief,  as  one  of  his  accusers  asserts.  He 
became  a  receiver  of  the  public  revenues,  and  acquired  the 
name  of  Ta/u,eio(f)ayo<;,  or  treasury-eater.  The  fierce  contro- 
versy between  the  Arians  and  the  Orthodox  being  at  its  height, 
and  the  Emperor  Constantius  favoring  the  Arians,  George 
too  became  a  zealous  Arian,  and  so  received  the  appointment 
of  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  as  successor  to  Athanasius,  who  had 
been  banished.  The  new  prelate  went  to  Alexandria,  with 
letters  of  recommendation  from  the  Emperor  himself.  The 
Trinitarians  were  driven  from  their  churches;  men  were  beater 


FROM  CONSTANTINE  TO  THE  BYZANTINE  PERIOD.     299 

with  scourges  of  thorns,  widows  and  orphans  plundered,  and 
many  holy  women  driven  into  the  desert.  The  Orthodox  re- 
volted against  these  outrages  of  the  metropolitan,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  flee  to  save  his  life.  But  the  Trinitarians  were 
again  expelled  by  order  of  the  Emperor,  and  the  exemplary 
Bishop  was  restored.  He  exhibited  a  most  uncanonical  greed 
for  money,  and  sought  to  get  monopolies  of  nitre,  papyrus,  salt 
painted  coffins,  and  the  management  of  funerals.  At  length  he 
began  to  persecute  the  Pagans ;  but  while  he  was  in  the  midst 
of  his  proceedings  against  them,  the  news  arrived  of  the  ac- 
cession of  the  Emperor  Julian,  which  encouraged  them  to  rise 
in  insurrection.  At  this  moment  George  was  presiding  in  a 
Bynod.  The,  insurgents  rushed  in,  seized  him,  and  were  about 
to  put  him  to  death,  when  he  was  rescued  by  the  magistrates, 
and  for  security  put  into  prison.  But  the  prison  was  mobbed; 
he  was  dragged  out,  bound  on  a  camel,  paraded  through  the 
streets,  then  torn  in  pieces,  and  burned  to  ashes.  Yet  this 
person  —  a  peculator,  parasite,  persecutor,  monopolist,  and 
worse  than  all  this  in  the  view  of  those  who  have  generally 
represented  the  dogmas  of  the  Church,  a  heretic — became  a 
recognized  saint,  and,  with  the  subsequent  addition  of  the 
Dragon,  arrived  in  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  at  the  dignity  of 
the  tutelary  genius  of  England,  which,  strangely  enough,  he 
still  holds,  though  the  revolutions  of  theological  opinion  have 
made  the  office  a  sinecure. 

This  blessed  saint  was  not,  however,  without  some  tincture 
of  cultivation.  He  had  been  on  terms  of  literary  intercourse 
with  Julian,  who,  in  the  epistle  I  am  about  to  quote,  speaks  of 
having  borrowed  books  of  him  to  be  copied.  In  a  letter  to 
the  Alexandrians,  the  Emperor  severely  censures  them  for  the 
murder  of  the  Bishop,  and  reads  them  a  sound  lecture  on  the 
wickedness  of  slaying  a  man,  even  though  guilty  of  the  highest 
oifences  against  them  and  their  religion,  when  they  might  have 
brought  him  to  justice  b"  an  appeal  to  the  laws.  Neverthe- 
less, after  his  death,  the  Emperor  wrote  the  following  charac- 
teristic epistle  to  the  Prefect  of  Egypt:    "Some  love  horses: 


800  MODERN   GREECE. 

some,  birds ;  and  others,  other  animals ;  but  from  my  childhooa 
up  I  have  had  a  vehement  passion  for  the  acquisition  of  books. 
It  were  absurd,  then,  if  I  were  to  neglect  the  present  oppor- 
tunity of  securing  those  of  the  Bishop.  I  beg  you  therefore  to 
do  me  the  peculiar  favor  of  looking  up  all  the  books  of  George. 
For  he  had  many  of  the  philosophers,  many  of  the  rhetoricians, 
and  many  treatises  on  the  doctrines  of  the  Galileans,  which  I 
could  wish  indeed  were  annihilated.  But  in  order  that  more 
useful  books  may  not  perish  with  this  trash,  I  would  have 
these  too  carefully  preserved.  Let  the  notary  (or  secretary) 
of  George  direct  you  in  the  search.  If  he  execute  the  com- 
mission faithfully,  he  shall  receive  his  liberty ;  but  if  not,  then 
he  shall  be  put  to  the  torture.  When  I  was  in  Cappadocia, 
George  lent  me  some  books  to  be  copied,  which  he  took  back 
again  afterwards." 

One  of  the  most  singular  compositions  of  Julian  was  the 
"  Misopogon,"  or  Beard-Hater,  the  object  of  which  is  to  hold  up 
to  ridicule  the  loose  morals  and  effeminate  habits  of  the  people 
of  Antioch.  It  seems  to  have  been  the  fashion  among  the  people 
of  that  city  to  shave  themselves.  Julian  was  too  conservative 
in  his  tastes  and  temper  to  fall  into  this  effeminate  innovation. 
He  wore  his  beard  in  the  antique  fashion,  and  incurred  the 
ridicule  of  the  Antiochians  for  so  doing.  He  retorted  upon 
them  by  this  piece,  which  he  is  said  to  have  written  while  so- 
journing in  their  city.  Part  of  it  is  in  a  light  and  ironical 
vein,  descriptive  of  his  own  simple  and  austere  habits,  which 
he  affects  t  d  consider  as  faults,  while  he  treats  their  vices  and 
extravagances  as  so  many  excellent  qualities  which  he  was 
unfitted  to  acquire.  But  towards  the  close  he  forgets  the  tone 
of  banter,  and  remonstrates,  in  the  severest  style,  upon  the 
ingratitude  of  the  people  of  Antioch  for  numerous  and  impor- 
tant benefits  they  had  received  at  his  hands,  —  such  as  the  re- 
mission of  public  burdens,  and  the  like  ;  and  finally  rates  them 
soundly  for  being  so  negligent  of  their  religious  duties  towards 
the  gods.  "I  hurried,"  says  he,  "on  the  day  of  the  festival 
of  Apollo,  to  Daphne,  supposing  that  I  should  there  enjoy  the 


KROM   COMTANTINE   TO   THE   BYZANTINE   PERIOD.  301 

spectacle  of  your  wealtn  and  magnificence.  I  silently  pictured 
to  myself  a  procession,  dreaming  of  victims,  libations,  choruses, 
frankincense,  in  honor  of  the  gods ;  imagining  youths  in  the 
temple,  with  minds  composed  to  a  state  most  befitting  the  ser- 
vice of  the  gods,  clothed  in  robes  of  becoming  magnifience. 
But  on  entering  the  temple  I  found  neither  incense,  nor  sacri- 
ficial cake,  nor  any  victim  there.  I  was  at  first  surprised,  but 
then  supposed  that  you  were  outside  of  the  temple,  waiting  for 
the  signal  from  me,  as  a  mark  cf  honor,  as  if  I  were  a  chief- 
priest.  But  when  I  inquired  what  the  city  was  going  to 
sacrifice  on  this  annual  festival  to  the  god,  the  priest  replied, 
'  I  have  brought  this  goose  from  home,  but  the  city  has  made 
no  preparation.'  I  remonstrated  with  the  council  in  severe 
terms,"  —  which  he  proceeds  to  repeat,  but  I  shall  not  imitate 
his  example. 

One  or  two  more  brief  extracts  from  this  curious  and  enter 
taining  work  will  be  all  that  time  allows.  The  Emperor  seems 
to  consider  the  vice  and  dissipation  of  the  city  as  in  some  way 
owing  to  the  decline  of  the  ancient  religion,  and  the  introduc- 
tion of  Christianity.  As  to  the  moral  condition  of  the  people, 
he  was  quite  right.  They  were  generally  voluptuous,  addicted 
passionately  to  amusements,  drinking,  low  entertainments  at 
the  theatres,  and  the  like  ;  but  Christianity  had  already  begun 
the  work  of  purification,  which  Julian  vainly  expected  from 
the  false  worship,  now  fallen  into  contempt  even  among  those 
who  had  not  yet  found  a  better.  But  I  think  that  what  trou- 
bled the  royal  philosopher  most,  after  all,  was  not  the  decay  of 
the  ancient  worship,  not  the  immoralities  of  the  city,  not  the 
ingratitude  for  imperial  favors,  but  the  disrespect  with  which 
they  treated  his  beard.  This  was  his  tender  point.  Not  all 
the  philosophy  of  all  the  schools  could  harden  his  sensibilities 
against  the  satirical  allusions  which  those  irreverent,  smooth- 
faced Antiochians  were  constantly  making  to  this  solemn  ap- 
pendage to  the  royal  physiognomy.  It  is  amusing  to  see  how 
the  beard  is  perpetually  turning  up,  in  the  midst  of  the  gravest 
discourse,  as  if  he  were  saying  to  himself,  "  That  was  the  un- 


302  MODERN    GREECE. 

kindest  cut  of  all.  It  is  wrong  to  neglect  Jupiter ;  it  is  bad 
to  offer  only  a  goose  to  Apollo ;  it  is  awful  to  be  dissolute  ; 
but  to  flout  at  the  very  beard  of  the  Emperor,  the  gods  forgive 
you,  —  I  cannot."  As  if  rebuking  himself,  he  gravely  says: 
"  Nature  has  not  made  him  so  very  charming  and  handsome, 
that,  out  of  mere  moroseness  and  ugliness  of  temper,  he  has 
added  that  long  beard  for  no  other  cause  than  to  punish  him- 
self for  not  being  handsomer;  which  made  it  quite  inconvenient 
for  him  to  eat  or  drink  ;  for  he  had  to  be  very  careful  not  to 
swallow  the  beard  and  bread  together.  As  to  giving  and  re- 
ceiving kisses,  he  professes  personally  his  profound  indifference. 
Nevertheless  he  admits  that  a  long  beard  does  really  appear  to 
have  this  inconvenience,  that  it  does  not  permit  to  join  smooth 
lips  to  smoother  and  therefore  sweeter  lips." 

There  is  a  curious  passage  in  which  he  describes  Lutetia, 
where  he  went  into  winter  quarters  on  one  of  his  campaigns. 
He  calls  it  beloved  Lutetia,  but  for  very  different  reasons  from 
those  which  make  Paris  so  attractive  now.  What  charmed 
him  was  the  rough  simplicity  of  the  Parisians,  who  found  noth- 
ing to  object  to  in  the  rudeness  of  his  person,  the  coarseness 
of  his  manners,  or  the  plainness  of  his  diet.  The  contrast  he 
draws  between  the  simplicity  and  rusticity  of  Paris,  and  the 
excessive  refinement  of  Antioch,  shows  curiously  the  changes 
wrought  by  time  in  the  condition  and  character  of  great  cities. 
Against  the  rustic  Paris  he  sets  off  the  opulent  and  flourishing 
city  of  Antioch,  —  with  many  dancers,  many  musicians,  more 
players  than  citizens,  and  no  reverence  for  princes.  "  They 
revel,"  says  he,  "in  the  morning,  and  give  the  night  up  to 
pleasure.  Their  delight  is  in  the  public  squares  and  in  the  the- 
atres ;  the  people  enjoying  the  applauses  and  the  tumult ;  the 
magistrates  taking  pleasure  in  the  opportunity  of  gaining  more 
reputation  by  the  sums  they  have  lavished  on  these  entertain- 
ments, than  Solon  the  Athenian  gained  by  his  conversation 
with  Croesus,  the  king  of  the  Lydians."  In  short,  the  two 
rities  appear  to  have  completely  changed  places. 

I  have  perhaps  dwelt  too  long  on  the  writings  of  Julian ;  but. 


FROM   CONSTANTINE   TO   THE   BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  303 

in  spite  of  his  apostasy  and  his  pedantry,  I  confess  to  a  strong 
liking  for  the  man.  He  was  the  last  of  the  heathen  Emperors  ; 
and  the  brave  struggle  he  made  to  bring  back  the  fair  humani- 
ties of  the  old  religion  excites  a  certain  respect.  I  like  to  pic- 
ture him  walking  among  the  olive-groves  of  Athens,  treading 
thoughtfully  the  porticos  where  the  great  philosophers  had  so 
long  met,  to  discuss  their  various  theories,  and  to  enlighten 
their  crowds  of  pupils  by  animated  instructions.  I  fancy  him 
dreaming  over  the  elder  glories  of  the  renowned  city,  and  with 
learned  enthusiasm  anticipating  their  restoration.  I  like  hia 
passion  for  letters,  and  his  preference  of  books  over  horses  and 
birds.  I  like  him  for  having  scorned  delights  and  lived  labo- 
rious days,  in  an  age  when  the  love  of  pleasure  drowned  zeal 
for  public  good  in  the  enervating  voluptuousness  of  private  life. 
I  honor  him  for  preserving  his  purity  of  morals  under  the  im- 
perial purple,  in  an  age  when  assassination  and  profligacy  held 
their  shameless  and  bloody  revels  in  the  regal  halls  of  Constan- 
tinople. With  such  accomplishments,  such  talents,  and  such 
virtues,  I  grudge  him  to  the  heathens.  Utinam  noster  esset ! 
But  he  was  the  last  gleam  of  Pagan  glory  that  illuminated  the 
imperial  throne. 

While  speaking  of  the  character  and  literary  merits  of  this 
imperial  friend  of  Greece  and  visionary  restorer  of  the  old 
religion,  whose  reign  is  considered  by  some  writers  to  have 
been  the  last  fortunate  period  in  the  sad  annals  of  that  coun- 
try, I  will  add  a  few  words  upon  one  of  his  contemporaries, 
whose  distinction  lay  exclusively  in  literature,  and  whose  life 
may  serve  as  a  sketch  of  the  heathen  literary  character  under 
its  most  favorable  aspect  in  that  age.  From  what  has  been 
said,  it  will  appear  that  the  profession  of  literature  was  by  no 
means  despised.  It  was  not  only  a  ground  of  imperial  favor, 
but  the  schools  in  Athens,  Alexandria,  Tarsus,  Antioch,  and 
other  places,  opened  careers  very  attractive  to  men  of  quiet 
tempers  and  literary  tastes  It  is  true,  there  was  no  bema 
now  for  political  eloquence  The  tragic  stage,  once  the  pulpit 
i)f  the  heathen  world,  had  been  supplanted  by  singers,  dancers. 


804  MODERN   GREECE. 

dancing  elephants,  chariot-races,  and  fights  of  wild  beasts.  All. 
except  the  more  austere  among  the  Christians,  and  the  puri- 
tanical Pagan  Emperor,  dropped  in  daily  to  refresh  themselves 
by  these  debasing  amusements,  so  that  the  stage  held  out  no 
inducement  to  men  of  genius,  had  any  such  arisen.  The  only 
public  which  the  literary  class  could  directly  address  was  the 
public  of  the  schools ;  and  the  topics  on  which  they  wrote  were 
accordingly  scholastic.  There  was  literary  skill ;  there  was 
cultivated  taste  ;  there  was  learning  ;  but  the  fresh  and  ani- 
mating breath  of  civic  life  was  wanting.  The  scholastic  litera- 
ture of  the  period  shows  great  fertility  of  resource  ;  and  among 
the  best  writers  and  most  accomplished  men  whose  works  re- 
main was  Libanius  the  Sophist.  This  distinguished  literary 
man  was  born  at  Antioch  early  in  the  fourth  century,  and, 
after  acquiring  the  rudiments  of  his  education  in  his  native 
place,  resorted  to  Athens  to  complete  his  studies,  where  his 
talents,  his  zeal  for  learned  pursuits,  and  his  love  of  the  old 
classics  gained  him  much  attention,  and  opened  a  career  as 
teacher  of  rhetoric,  in  which  he  might  easily  haVe  made  him- 
self a  prominent  person  in  that  city.  But  he  preferred  another 
course.  Returning  to  Asia,  he  was  induced  to  remain  in  Con- 
stantinople, where  he  opened  a  private  school,  whose  success 
excited  the  jealousy  of  the  public  teachers  to  such  a  degree, 
that  they  accused  him  of  magic,  and  procured  his  expulsion 
from  the  city.  From  Constantinople  he  went  to  Nicomedeia, 
where  he  taught  successfully  for  the  next  five  years.  Twice 
after  this  he  returned  to  Constantinople  for  a  itemporary  resi- 
dence ;  but  at  length,  his  health  failing  him,  he  withdrew  to  his 
native  city,  and  there  passed  the  remainder  of  his  life,  having 
again  declined  the  offer  of  the  chair  of  rhetoric  at  Athens. 

In  many  points  of  character  he  resembled  the  Emperor 
Julian,  who  was  his  friend  and  correspondent.  The  Emperor 
on  one  occasion  writes  to  him :  "  I  read  your  oration  almost 
through  yesterday  before  dinner ;  after  dinner  I  finished  it  be- 
fore resting.  You  are  a  happy  man  to  be  able  so  to  speak,  anc1 
still  more,  so  to  think.     What  a  style,  what  mind,  what  distr> 


FROM   CONSTANITNE   TO   THE  BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  305 

bution,  what  arguments,  what  order,  what  diction,  what  har- 
mony, what  compactness  ! "  It  is  worth  while  to  have  an 
Emperor  for  your  correspondent,  if  he  will  pay  you  such  com- 
pliments when  you  send  him  a  copy  of  your  last  oration. 
Like  the  Emperor,  Libanius  was  a  Pagan,  though  a  very  tol- 
erant one.  St.  Basil  and  St.  Chrysostom  were  among  his 
pupils  and  friends.  He  survived  until  near  the  end  of  the 
fourth  century.  He  left  a  great  variety  of  works,  —  orations, 
declamations,  letters ;  but  those  best  known  are  a  Life  of  De- 
mosthenes, and  the  Arguments  of  his  Orations,  prefixed  to  most 
editions  of  the  great  orator's  works.  His  style  shows  the  marks 
of  careful  imitation  of  the  ancient  classics,  and  in  passages  it  is 
pre-eminently  happy.  But  the  classical  simplicity  of  the  age 
of  Xenophon  was  not  the  fashion  of  the  fourth  century ;  and 
Libanius,  with  all  his  ability,  could  not  uniformly  rise  above 
the  faults  of  his  age.  In  truth,  a  style  formed  by  imitating  the 
models  of  an  earlier  period,  however  excellent  they  may  be, 
will  always  bear  the  tokens  of  labor,  —  will  always  be  stiff  and 
unnatural  to  a  certain  extent.  The  only  way  of  speaking  to 
men  with  effect  is  to  speak  in  the  language  natural  to  the 
period,  avoiding  bad  taste  where  that  is  fashionable,  but  not 
too  curiously  seeking  for  the  peculiar  elegance  which  belonged 
to  another  epoch.  The  works  of  Libanius  are  not  only  inter- 
esting, but  of  great  historical  value,  with  reference  both  to  the 
political  and  the  literary  relations  of  the  times. 

These  two  writers,  the  one  on  the  throne  of  the  Roman 
world,  the  other  in  the  chair  of  the  private  teacher,  —  united, 
from  these  opposite  extremes  of  fortune,  by  similarity  of  opinion 
and  congeniality  of  tastes,  —  give  us  a  good  idea  of  the  literary 
activity  of  the  period,  when,  though  original  genius  had  dis- 
appeared and  taste  had  greatly  declined,  yet  the  light  of  the 
ancient  Hellenic  intellect  still  lingered,  and  cast  a  golden 
brightness  over  the  rapid  decay. 

The  Eastern  and  Western  Empires  were  separated  in  A.  D. 
364  by  Valentinian  and  Valens.  In  the  north  and  east  the 
storm  of  barbarian  invasion  was  ominously  gathering  agains* 

vol.  n.  20 


306  MODERN   GREECE 

the  Empire.  The  Goths  were  permitted  by  Valens  to  pass  the 
Danube,  when  the  fiercer  Huns,  advancing  from  the  confines  of 
China,  compelled  them  to  seek  the  protection  of  the  Emperor. 
This  movement  quartered  a  million  of  warriors  within  the  do- 
minions of  Rome,  between  whom  and  the  Empire  a  desperate 
war  speedily  broke  out.  But  the  separation  of  the  East  from 
the  West  bound  up  the  interests  of  its  sovereigns  more  inti- 
mately with  the  fortunes  of  their  Greek  subjects.  The  Greek 
language  began  to  supplant  the  Latin  at  the  court ;  the  feeling 
of  Greek  nationality  penetrated  even  to  the  imperial  family ; 
and  new  vigor  seemed  about  to  be  infused  into  the  eastern  por- 
tion of  the  Empire.  The  municipal  and  ecclesiastical  organi- 
zations of  the  Greeks  gained  still  greater  influence  in  the  gen- 
eral government ;  and  the  Christian  religion  gradually  directed 
the  attention  of  educated  men  almost  exclusively  to  theological 
questions.  There  still  remained,  however,  in  the  schools,  a 
good  number  of  philosophical  adherents  to  declining  Paganism, 
many  of  them,  like  Julian  and  Libanius,  distinguished  not  only 
for  their  literary  accomplishments,  but  for  the  general  purity  of 
their  lives ;  and  this  circumstance,  perhaps,  led  the  Christians 
to  entertain  that  contempt  for  human  learning  which  com- 
mences about  this  period.  The  name  of  Hellenes  was  grad- 
ually limited  to  the  Pagan  Greeks  of  Europe.  Christians  and 
Hellenes  became  contrasted  terms  in  Greece  itself,  which  still 
retained  the  name  of  Hellas.  At  the  present  day  this  appli- 
cation of  Hellenes  is  not  unknown  in  some  parts  of  Greece 
The  kingdom  is  called  Hellas,  and  the  inhabitants  are  called 
Hellenes,  among  the  educated  classes,  and  almost  universally 
by  the  people  ;  but  once,  on  board  a  ship  in  the  Corinthian 
Gulf,  I  put  the  question  to  a  Greek  sailor,  "  Are  you  a  Hel- 
len?"  —  not  remembering  at  the  moment  the  theological  mean- 
ing of  the  word.  He  replied,  with  some  animation,  thinking 
I  had  asked  him  whether  he  was  a  Pagan,  "  No  7  I  am  a 
Greek,"  —  meaning,  a  Greek  Christian. 

The  influence  of  the  lawyers  on  the  general  administratiov 
of  justice  began  to  exercise  a  very  important  control,  not  only 


FROM   CONSTANTINE   TO  THE  BYZANTINE   PERIOD.  307 

over  the  judicial  tribunals,  but  as  a  check  to  the  injustice  of 
proconsuls,  and  even  to  the  despotism  of  the  Emperors  them- 
selves ;  but  it  is  a  singular  fact,  and  one  which  diminished  the 
beneficial  influence  of  this  profession  among  the  Greeks,  that, 
though  the  Greek  was  the  language  of  the  Eastern  Church,  yet 
the  Latin  was  the  language  of  legal  business  in  the  East,  until 
the  time  of  Justinian,  that  is,  till  after  the  sixth  century, — 
a  circumstance  which  enabled  the  clergy,  by  their  more  inti- 
mate connectioi  with  the  people,  to  extend  their  sphere  d 
activity  beyond  the  range  of  ecclesiastical,  to  civil,  affairs. 

All  apparent  progress  was  arrested,  or  at  least  interrupted,  by 
the  troubles  with  the  barbarians.  The  Huns  pressed  forward, 
subjecting  district  after  district  and  province  after  province. 
In  the  first  half  of  the  fifth  century,  at  the  head  of  an  immense 
troop  of  followers,  Attila  advanced  upon  Europe,  and,  almost 
without  the  show  of  resistance,  invaded,  occupied,  and  desolated 
all  the  regions  from  the  Euxine  to  the  Adriatic.  Greece,  under 
these  swarming  hordes,  suffered  the  extremity  of  spoliation, 
with  all  its  atrocities  and  horrors.  The  Emperor  was  terrified 
into  purchasing  peace  by  the  payment  of  an  annual  tribute  of 
two  thousand  pounds  of  gold,  and  the  cession  of  an  extensive 
territory  of  fifteen  days'  journey  in  breadth,  and  in  length 
reaching  from  Nyssae  to  Belgrade.  For  the  next  seven  years, 
Attila  was  the  terror  of  the  East  and  the  West.  His  exploits 
were  the  theme  of  popular  song  among  the  barbarians,  and 
tradition  added  fable  to  the  facts  of  history.  Under  the  name 
of  Etzel  he  reappears  in  the  earliest  legends  of  Germany ;  and 
is  one  of  the  leading  personages  in  that  grand  old  poem,  the 
Nibelungen-lied.  *  He  was  interred,"  says  Sir  James  Emerson 
Tennent,  "  after  the  ancient  manner  of  the  fathers  of  his  na- 
tion,—  the  Huns  cutting  off  their  hair,  and  gashing  their  faces 
with  hideous  wounds,  to  bewail  their  chieftain,  not  with  effemi- 
nate tears,  but  with  the  blood  of  warriors.  His  body,  placed 
beneath  a  silken  pavilion,  was  exhibited  in  the  midst  of  the 
plain,  whilst  the  horsemen  of  his  tribe  rode  around  it,  and  cel- 
ebrated his  exploits  m  funereal  hymns.     In  the  darkness  of 


308  MODERN   GREECE. 

midnight,  the  remains  of  Attila  were  enclosed  in  a  golden,  and 
again  in  a  silver  coffin,  to  mark  that  the  Romans  and  the  Greeks 
had  been  his  tributaries;  and  all  was  enveloped  in  an  iron 
chest,  to  indicate  the  untamed  ferocity  of  his  dominion.  The 
trappings  of  his  war-horse  and  his  royal  insignia  were  com- 
mitted to  the  same  sepulchre  with  himself;  and  the  slaves  who 
hollowed  out  his  tomb  were  slain  when  the  work  was  finished, 
in  order  that  no  mortal  might  disclose  the  last  resting-place  of 
the  warrior  of  the  Huns." 

Allusion  has  already  been  made  to  the  antipathy  of  some  of 
the  Christian  fathers  to  the  Pagan  literature  of  the  Greeks, 
called  out  chiefly  by  the  antagonism  between  the  philosophers 
who  remained  faithful  to  the  elder  creeds  and  the  Christian 
leaders.  The  Greek  poets  wrere  prohibited  authors,  and  the  fine 
arts  were  regarded  as  little  else  than  idolatrous.  The  decline 
of  learning  had  become  so  great,  that,  when  Theodosius  II.  as- 
cended the  throne,  he  found  it  necessary  to  establish  a  Univer- 
sity at  Constantinople,  to  furnish  a  sufficient  supply  of  educated 
men  for  the  civil  service.  Fifteen  professors  were  appointed 
to  teach  Greek  grammar  and  literature,  thirteen  to  instruct  in 
Latin,  two  in  law,  and  one  in  philosophy.  The  Senate  was 
charged  with  the  duty  of  examining  the  candidates  for  these 
chairs.  Twenty  years'  service  raised  the  professors  to  the  rank 
of  nobles  of  the  Empire  and  the  title  of  Counts.  But  most  of 
the  literary  talent  and  interest  of  the  times  was  absorbed  in  un- 
edifying  and  unending  controversies  on  points  which,  in  their 
very  nature,  are  incapable  of  decision,  and  which,  on  that  very 
account  perhaps,  have  in  every  age  except  the  earliest  been 
the  bane  of  the  Christian  Church.  They  owe  their  origin  to 
an  unjustifiable  solicitude,  on  the  part  of  speculative  minds,  to 
search  into  the  essence  of  the  Divine  nature,  and  to  learn  those 
things  which  Divine  Wisdom  has  seen  fit  to  shroud  from  human 
knowledge.  The  Homoousian  question,  which  kept  the  Church 
m  an  uproar  for  a  thousand  years,  and  the  Procession  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  which  split  the  Christian  world,  it  is  absurd  to  dis- 
miss, simply  because  all  the  discussion  possible  adds  nothing  what 


FROM   CONSTANTDJE  TO  THE   BYZANTINE   PERIOD.  309 

ever  to  our  knowledge,  or  to  our  means  of  acquiring  knowledge, 
on  these  subjects.  It  was  an  unhappy  day  for  the  Church 
and  for  Christendom  when  over-zealous  ecclesiastics  presumed 
to  travel  beyond  the  instructions  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  and 
to  speculate  on  those  relations  of  the  Deity  which  the  Divine 
Teacher  did  not  undertake  to  explain.  There  is  no  more 
lismal  chapter  in  the  history  of  literature  and  the  human  mind 
ihaii  the  history  of  religious  controversy.  The  controversial 
writings  of  the  fathers  whom  I  have  read  are  enough  to  make 
one  renounce  theological  literature  forever,  such  malice  of  im- 
putation, such  unscrupulous  slanders,  such  false  reasoning,  such 
hopeless  confusion  of  the  understanding,  do  they  exhibit.  The 
worst  passions  of  human  nature  are  started  into  the  most  malig- 
nant activity ;  and  the  natural  result  of  this  long-cherished  and 
deeply-seated  hatred  of  the  heretic  —  that  is,  of  the  man  who 
denies  some  dogma  unknown  to  the  Scriptures,  and  incapable 
of  being  expressed  except  in  mystical  jargon  —  is  sooner  or  later 
to  tear  him  in  pieces,  burn  him  at  the  stake,  or  subject  him  to 
the  most  exquisite  tortures  which  the  diabolical  ingenuity  of 
theological  odium  can  invent.  There  is  no  more  striking  con- 
trast than  is  presented  by  the  tone  and  temper  of  the  Christian 
Scriptures,  and  the  controversial  writings  of  the  Christian  fa- 
thers. I  do  not  know  that  a  stronger  argument  could  be  framed 
to  prove  the  Divine  inspiration  of  the  writers  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, than  by  comparing  their  gentle  and  gracious  simplicity 
of  loving-kindness,  and  their  profoundly  affecting  appeals  to  all 
that  is  deepest  in  the  human  soul, — a  tenderness  beyond  the 
tenderness  of  woman,  and  a  power  higher  than  the  mightiest 
grasp  of  man,  —  with  the  spirit  of  the  very  best  and  ablest  lead- 
ers in  the  Christian  world,  from  Athanasius  down  to  Calvin. 

History  was  cultivated  in  this  period,  but  poetry  had  nearly 
perished.  Chariot-races  took  the  place  of  the  drama,  and  mys- 
ticism supplanted  philosophy.  Painting,  sculpture,  and  archi- 
tecture shared  in  the  general  degradation,  and  the  active  de- 
struction of  the  )ld  works  of  art  went  rapidly  forward,  al- 
though  prohibited  by  the   Theodosian  code.      The  materials 


310  MODERN   GREECE. 

of  temples  were  used  in  the  construction  of  other  buildings,  — 
sometimes  of  churches.  Grecian  works  of  bronze  were  melted 
down  to  make  statues  of  the  Emperors,  since  the  fashion  of 
erecting  statues  to  eminent  persons,  as  had  been  done  in  Greece 
from  early  times,  had  not  yet  died  out  in  Constantinople.  But 
even  this  was  offensive  to  the  more  zealous  of  the  Christian 
fathers.  John  Chrysostom  declaimed  so  violently  against  the 
Empress  Eudocia,  on  account  of  a  silver  statue  in  her  honor, 
upon  a  porphyry  column,  in  the  market-place  at  Constanti- 
nople, that  the  government  expelled  him  from  the  patriarchal 
chair. 

The  long  reign  of  Justinian,  from  527  to  565,  was  in  some 
respects  a  brilliant  one ;  but,  to  use  the  language  of  another, 
"it  was  merely  a  glowing  episode  in  a  tale  of  ruin, — a  me- 
teor in  a  midnight  sky,  which  flashes  brightly  for  an  instant, 
and,  vanishing,  leaves  no  halo  of  its  transient  brilliancy  behind." 
Yet  he  was  indefatigably  occupied  with  reforms  intended  to 
strengthen  the  Empire.  He  embellished  the  capital  with  costly 
edifices,  rebuilt  the  cathedral  church  of  St.  Sophia,  repaired 
the  walls  and  towers  of  Constantinople,  the  strong-holds  in  the 
north  of  Greece,  and  the  fortifications  of  Athens  and  Peireeus, 
and  protected  the  Peloponnesus  by  fortresses  at  Corinth  and 
on  the  Isthmus.  He  paid  more  than  a  million  of  dollars  to- 
wards rebuilding  and  embellishing  Antioch,  after  it  had  been 
overthrown  by  an  earthquake.  He  abolished  the  consulship, 
which  had  been  in  existence  more  than  a  thousand  years.  In 
his  reign  the  schools  of  Athens  and  Alexandria,  in  which  doc- 
trines antagonistic  to  Christianity  were  still  taught,  were  closed. 
He  was  brilliantly  successful  in  his  wars,  through  his  generals, 
and  this  with  his  contemporaries  gave  him  still  greater  glory 
than  his  works  of  peace;  but  posterity  acknowledge  him  chiefly 
for  his  agency  in  compiling  the  Institutes,  Digest,  and  Pan- 
dects,—  the  Corpus  Juris  Civilis,  which  has  so  largely  influ- 
enced the  administration  of  justice  down  to  the  present  day 
All  this,  however,  could  not  save  the  gigantic,  but  hollow  am! 
feeble  Empire,  from  desay  and  dissolution  under  his  successors 


pjj- 


PROM   CONST  ANTINE   TO   THE   BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  311 

The  Western  Empire  ended  with  the  inglorious  reign  of 
Romulus  Augustulus  in  the  year  476 ;  but  the  Eastern  Em- 
pire, under  Roman  influences,  continued  for  a  period  of  about 
a  hundred  and  fifty  years  alter  Justinian,  to  the  accession  of 
Leo  the  Isaurian  in  717,  when,  in  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Finlay, 
the  proper  Byzantine  period  commences.  In  this  century  and 
a  half,  seventeen  Emperors  sat  upon  the  throne ;  but  the  most 
important  events,  so  far  as  the  Greeks  were  concerned,  were 
the  settlement  of  Slavonians  and  other  foreign  or  barbarous 
races  over  the  greater  part  of  Greece.  The  diminution  of 
the  Hellenic  people  which  had  taken  place  was  owing  partly 
to  the  general  decay  of  the  Empire,  and  partly  to  other 
and  local  causes,  especially  to  the  accumulation  of  immense 
landed  estates  in  the  hands  of  individuals.  The  neglect  of 
roads  led  to  the  abandonment  of  the  cultivation  of  the  soil  over 
large  tracts  of  country,  and  its  conversion  into  pasture-land ; 
and,  as  the  revenues  to  be  derived  from  a  country  in  this  con- 
dition were  insignificant,  the  government  at  Constantinople  be- 
came indifferent  to  its  defence.  The  provinces  of  Greece  were 
thus  exposed  to  the  inroads  of  Slavonian  colonists,  which  com- 
menced early  in  the  sixth  century.  The  progress  of  their  set- 
tlements is  obscurely  intimated  by  the  Byzantine  historians ; 
but  the  fact  that  they  occupied  the  greater  part  of  Macedonia, 
and  in  such  numbers  that  Justinian  II.,  at  the  end  of  the  sev- 
enth century,  was  able  to  remove  thence  into  Asia,  and  settle 
on  the  shores  of  the  Bosporus,  a  colony  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  souls,  shows  in  what  numbers  they  must  first  have 
immigrated.  They  became  almost  the  sole  possessors  of  the 
territories  once  occupied  by  the  Illyrians  and  the  Thracians. 
They  advanced  southward,  occupying  the  waste  lands ;  but,  as 
they  penetrated  into  the  heart  of  Greece,  they  met  with  more 
obstructions  from  a  denser  population,  especially  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  still  remaining  walled  towns  In  the  early  part 
of  the  eighth  century,  nearly  the  whole  of  the  Peloponnesus 
was  occupied  by  the  Slavonians.  It  was  then  regarded  by 
pilgrims  from  Western  Europe  as  Slavonic  soil ;  and  the  com- 


812  MODERN    GREECE. 

plete  colonization  of  the  whole  country  of  Greece  and  the 
Peloponnesus  is  dated  by  the  Emperor  Constantine  Porphyro- 
genitus  from  the  time  of  the  great  pestilence  that  depopulated 
the  East,  in  746,  which  is  a  little  later  than  the  commencement 
of  the  Byzantine  period.  Such  are  the  principal  facts  known 
in  history  with  regard  to  this  extraordinary  series  of  events, 
by  which  an  old  population  was  almost  entirely  displaced  in 
the  course  of  two  centuries  by  swarms  of  another  race  coming 
into  the  country,  partly  as  warriors  and  enemies,  partly  as  agri- 
culturists, herdsmen,  and  shepherds,  to  occupy  the  lands  left 
vacant  by  the  greatly  diminished  numbers  of  the  Greeks. 
These  bodies  seem  to  have  been  set  in  motion  by  wars  along 
the  line  of  the  northern  provinces ;  and  when  they  were  once 
established,  they  lived  in  a  rude  and  wild  independence.  They 
took  possession  chiefly  of  the  valleys  and  the  interior  of  the 
provinces ;  and  they  left  traces  of  their  possession  in  the  still 
remaining  Slavonic  names,  which  are  scattered  all  over  the 
surface  of  Greece.  The  Greeks  themselves  still  held  the  sea- 
coasts  and  the  large  towns,  the  ancient  Greek  names  of  which 
were  for  the  most  part  retained.  From  time  to  time  the 
old  and  the  new  inhabitants  came  into  collision,  and  wars 
raged  here  and  there.  Twice  at  least  the  aid  of  the  Emperor 
was  supplicated,  large  armies  were  sent  from  Constantinople, 
and  the  Slavonians  were  partially  conquered,  and  compelled  to 
pay  tribute  to  the  imperial  government. 

The  singularity  of  this  chapter  in  Greek  history  consists  in 
the  fact,  that  this  great  body  of  intrusive  settlers  gradually  dis- 
appeared from  the  soil  of  Greece  as  mysteriously  as  they  came. 
Some  had  of  course  mingled  with  the  Greeks,  were  converted 
to  Christianity  in  the  course  of  time  by  the  blending  of  fami- 
nes, became  Hellenized  in  language,  manners,  and  blood,  and 
were  to  all  intents  and  purposes  Greeks ;  just  as  the  descend- 
ants of  foreign  settlers  in  England,  mingling  their  blood  with 
the  native  race,  lose  the  original  nationality  of  their  ancestors, 
a.id  become  Englishmen.  Professor  Fallmereyer,  indeed,  in 
his  learned  and  entertaining  work,  written  in  German, — "The 


FROM  CONSTANTINE   TO   THE   BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  313 

History  of  the  Peninsula  of  Morea,"  —  maintains  that  the 
Hellenic  population  was  entirely  exterminated,  and  that  the 
people  who  call  themselves  Greeks  at  the  present  day  are  noth- 
ing but  descendants  of  these  Slavonic  hordes.  The  learned 
Professor  has  adopted  this  theory ;  and  if  the  facts  do  not 
correspond  with  it,  so  much  the  worse  is  it  for  the  facts. 
His  book  has  called  forth  several  replies  in  Germany  ;  and 
his  unfounded  assumptions  and  numerous  misrepresentations 
of  historical  facts  have  been  ably  exposed  by  Zinkeisen,  in  his 
excellent  History  of  Greece.  But,  in  truth,  it  is  quite  unneces- 
sary to  enter  largely  into  historical  research  to  show  the  utter 
fallacy  of  Fallmerayer's  opinion.  The  Slavonians  are  light- 
haired,  blond-complexioned,  and  blue-eyed ;  the  Greeks  have 
dark  hair,  brown  complexions,  and  sparkling  black  eyes.  The 
Slavonians  are  broad-faced,  stout,  and  somewhat  clumsy ;  the 
Greeks  are  lithe,  slender,  nimble,  and  graceful.  The  same 
features  that  we  admire  in  the  ancient  statues,  Nature  still  re- 
produces everywhere  in  Greece.  The  intellectual  qualities, 
too,  of  the  races  are  strikingly  different.  The  Greek  is  lively, 
quick  to  understand,  adroit,  eloquent,  curious,  eager  for  nov- 
elty; the  Slavonian,  slow,  indifferent,  not  easily  roused  to  take 
an  interest  in  anything  that  does  not  immediately  concern  him- 
self. What  is  more,  as  you  travel  though  Greece  you  fall  in 
here  and  there  with  descendants  of  the  Slavonians,  and  other 
foreign  settlers,  sometimes  occupying  an  entire  village  by 
themselves.  Even  in  Athens  there  is  a  quarter  inhabited  al- 
most exclusively  by  Albanians  ;  and  not  ten  miles  from  Athens 
there  is  a  village  where  Greek  is  not  understood.  Now  it  is 
impossible  for  the  most  careless  observer  to  mistake  these  races 
for  one  another,  either  in  their  looks,  or  in  their  speech,  or  in 
their  mental  characteristic.  Besides,  if  the  Greeks  are  all  Sla- 
vonians, how  is  it  that,  while  those  we  know  to  be  of  foreign 
races  speak  the  dialects  belonging  to  those  races,  —  Albanian, 
and  the  like,  —  the  great  body  of  the  people  speak  only  Greek? 
How  came  they  to  abandon  their  own  language,  and  to  adopt 
the  language   of  the  race  they  utterly  exterminated  ?     Why 


814  MODERN   GREECE. 

did  not  our  ancestors  abandon  the  language  they  brought  with 
them,  and  adopt  the  polysyllabic  and  very  picturesque  dialects 
of  the  Pequots  or  Narragansetts  ?  One  transaction  would 
have  been  about  as  reasonable  as  the  other.  I  am  of  opinion, 
from  former  study  and  recent  observation,  that  the  Greeks  are 
Greeks,  —  that  they  are  the  descendants  of  their  fathers.  It 
is  characteristic  of  some  theorists,  after  having  adopted  a  pe- 
culiar view,  to  exaggerate  everything  that  makes  in  its  favor, 
and  not  even  to  see  the  facts  that  work  against  it.  I  will  not 
charge  Fallmerayer  with  bad  faith  ;  but  I  must  think  that  his 
Slavonic  zeal  outran  his  acuteness  and  learning. 

The  Professor's  theory  has  been  very  well  received  by  the 
Emperor  of  Russia,  who  considers  himself  the  natural  head  of 
the  Slavonic  races.  It  is  said  that  he  has  conferred  an  order 
of  merit  on  Professor  Fallmerayer  for  his  services  in  Slavoviz- 
ing  the  Hellenic  race.  There  are  some  points  of  sympathy 
between  the  Emperor  of  Russia  and  the  Greeks.  The  Greek 
Church  is  the  established  Church  of  the  Empire,  and  at  the 
present  moment  the  Emperor  is  the  enemy  of  the  Turk.  But 
the  Greek  mind  is  totally  averse  from  the  despotic  maxims  of 
the  Russian  government,  and,  though  a  portion. of  the  more  fa- 
natical priests  may  be  inclined  to  favor  Russian  influence,  the 
more  enlightened  part  of  the  Greek  nation  detest  it.  The 
Greeks  are  not  hoping  to  throw  off  the  Turkish  yoke  from  the 
northern  provinces  for  the  sake  of  putting  on  the  Russian. 
It  is  for  liberty,  and  not  for  slavery,  —  of  which  they  have  had 
enough,  —  that  they  sigh.  They  like  the  Emperor  as  little  as 
they  like  Fallmerayer,  and  against  him  the  feeling  among  the 
Greeks  is  one  of  profound  indignation.  I  would  not  answer 
for  the  Professor's  safety  in  the  streets  of  Athens.  In  one  of 
the  courses  of  lectures  which  I  attended  in  the  University  of 
Athens,  the  Professor  of  History  —  a  very  eloquent  man,  as 
well  as  a  somewhat  fiery  Greek  —  took  this  subject  up.  His 
audience  consisted  of  about  two  hundred  young  men,  from 
every  part  of  Greece.  His  indignant  comments  on  the  learnec 
German  —  that  notorious  MiaeWr/v  (Mis-Hellen),  or  Greek 


FROM  CONSTANTINE  TO  THE  BYZANTINE  PERIOD.     315 

hater,  as  he  stigmatized  him  —  were  received  by  his  hearers 
with  a  profound  sensation.  They  sat  with  expanded  nostrils 
and  flashing  eyes,  —  a  splendid  illustration  of  the  old  Hellenic 
spirit  roused  to  fury  by  the  chai'ge  of  barbarian  descent.  "  It 
is  true,"  said  the  eloquent  Professor,  "  that  the  tide  of  barba- 
rian invaders  poured  down  like  a  deluge  upon  Hellas,  filling 
with  its  surging  floods  our  beautiful  plains,  our  fertile  valleys. 
The  Greeks  fled  to  their  walled  towns  and  mountain  fast- 
nesses. By  and  by  the  waters  subsided,  and  the  soil  of  Hellas 
reappeared.  The  former  inhabitants  descended  from  the  moun- 
tains, as  the  tide  receded ;  resumed  their  ancient  lands,  and  re- 
built their  ruined  habitations ;  and,  the  reign  of  the  barbarians 
over,  Hellas  was  herself  again."  Three  or  four  rounds  of 
applause  followed  the  close  of  the  lecture  of  Professor  Manou- 
ses,  in  which  I  very  heartily  joined.  I  could  not  help  thinking 
afterwards,  what  a  singular  comment  on  the  German  anti-Hel- 
lenic theory  was  presented  by  this  scene,  —  a  Greek  Professor 
in  a  Greek  University  lecturing  to  two  hundred  Greeks  in 
the  Greek  language,  to  prove  that  the  Greeks  were  Greeks, 
and  not  Slavonians. 


LECTURE    IV. 

GREECE  CHRISTIANIZED.  —  ST   CHRYSOSTOM.  —  THE  EASTERN 

CHURCH. 

In  the  last  Lecture  some  notices  were  given  of  the  course 
of  Hellenic  history  down  to  the  time  when  the  schools  were 
closed  in  the  sixth  century,  by  order  of  Justinian.  The  idle 
endeavor  of  Julian  to  restore  the  falling  structure  of  heathen- 
ism, by  making  himself  a  reformer  of  its  abuses,  was  briefly 
alluded  to,  with  a  slight  sketch  of  his  literary  character  and 
works  given,  and  a  glance  at  some  of  his  contemporaries.  A 
few  general  reflections  were  also  ventured  on  the  general  prep 
aration  of  the  Greek  mind  for  the  reception  of  Christianity, 
and  on  those  outward  circumstances  in  the  condition  of  the 
times  which  opened  the  hearts  and  minds  of  the  people  —  the 
middle  and  the  literary  classes  —  to  the  truths  it  revealed, 
reaching  beyond  this  world  to  a  future  state  of  being,  which 
philosophy  had  hoped  for  and  reasoned  out,  but  which  only  the 
life,  teachings,  death,  and  resurrection  of  Christ  had  clothed 
with  certainty. 

In  the  external  condition  of  Greece,  we  have  seen  the  decay 
and  downfall  of  her  free  political  institutions.  We  have 
seen  her  pass  from  the  full  flush  and  glory  of  her  period  of 
creative  and  original  literature  into  the  era  of  scientific  ac- 
cumulation. We  have  seen  her  schools  established  in  the 
great  capitals  of  the  Eastern  world,  and  her  subtile  intellect 
training  the  mind  of  imperial  Rome.  We  have  followed  the 
barbarian  invaders,  the  Gauls  at  an  early  period,  the  Goths, 
the  Huns,  sweeping  stormily  and  destructively  over  her  em- 
bellished cities  and  cultivated  plains  ;    and  we  have  watched 


GREECE   CHRISTIANIZED.  317 

me  more  multitudinous  hosts  of  Slavonic  warriors  and  herds- 
men pouring  into  the  regions  deserted  by  a  shrinking  popula- 
tion, taking  possession  of  the  lands  left  without  an  owner, 
changing  even  the  names  which  had  come  down  from  the  re- 
motest times,  and,  after  two  or  three  centuries,  gradually  re- 
ceding before  the  increasing  number  of  the  Greek  people,  leav- 
ing a  few  settlements  behind  them,  and  the  traces  of  their 
temporary  possession  in  the  names  of  towns,  rivers,  hills,  and 
plains.  From  this  period  we  now  pass  into  that  of  the  proper 
Byzantine  Empire ;  but  before  taking  up  this  part  of  my  sub- 
ject, I  must  ask  your  indulgence  for  dwelling  a  few  moments 
on  the  development  of  Christianity  and  of  Christian  literature. 
The  details  of  the  early  progress  of  Christianity  in  Greece, 
after  the  apostolic  age,  are  shrouded  in  the  deepest  obscurity. 
But  the  importance  which  the  Christian  communities  have 
already  assumed,  when  they  begin  in  the  last  half  of  the  second 
century  to  excite  attention,  clearly  shows  that  from  the  time  of 
Paul  there  had  been  an  unbroken  growth,  which,  though  too 
quiet  to  create  an  interest  in  contemporary  writers,  yet  gradu- 
ally extended  the  influence  of  the  new  religion  over  the  prin- 
cipal parts  of  Greece.  In  the  course  of  the  first  and  second 
centuries,  small  Christian  societies  appear  to  have  established 
themselves  in  the  chief  cities,  and  to  have  gradually  gained 
stability  by  a  regular  internal  organization.  Churches  had  been 
planted  in  Thessalonica,  Larissa,  Athens,  Corinth,  Sparta,  and 
on  the  islands  of  Crete  and  Cyprus,  before  the  differences  be- 
tween the  followers  of  the  old  and  of  the  new  faith  resulted  in 
settled  hostility.  There  is,  however,  mention  made  of  a  circu- 
lar of  Antoninus  Pius,  addressed  to  the  states  of  Greece,  whose 
object  was  to  put  an  end  to  the  persecutions  of  the  Christians 
by  the  Pagans.  About  this  time  the  first  Grecian  martyrs, 
Dionysius  and  Publius,  anpear  to  have  been  put  to  death.  The 
death  of  the  latter  is  said  to  have  very  nearly  caused  the  dis- 
persion of  the  church  at  Athens.  In  the  following  century, 
though  the  progress  of  Christianity  had  still  been  comparatively 
small,  there  appear  to  have  been  held  conventions,  or  councils 


318  MODERN   GREECE. 

of  members  of  the  different  churches,  to  deliberate  on  the  com- 
mon interests  of  the  whole  body.  The  persecutions  of  Decius 
and  Diocletian  probably  did  not  much  affect  Greece  ;  for  only 
a  few  names  of  martyrs  belonging  to  Corinth  and  Athens  are 
mentioned,  in  contrast  with  the  long  lists  of  those  who  suffered 
at  Alexandria,  Caesarea,  Smyrna,  Antioch,  Rome,  Crete,  and 
Cyprus,  —  a  fact  which  speaks  well  of  the  tolerant  and  kindly 
feelings  of  the  Greeks  towards  one  another.  The  uproars  in 
Egypt  were  of  a  later  date,  and  do  not  affect  the  general  fact 
of  the  forbearance  and  humanity  of  the  Hellenic  race  in  mat- 
ters of  religious  opinion. 

The  local  meetings  were  the  precursors  of  provincial  councils, 
and  these  again  of  general  councils,  to  regulate  the  affairs  of 
the  Christian  communities.  It  is  surprising  how  soon  they 
became  thoroughly  organized,  commanded  large  pecuniary  re- 
sources, and  were  able  to  stand  up,  if  need  were,  against  the 
whole  power  of  the  Emperors.  The  Bishops,  properly  so 
called,  appear  to  have  succeeded  the  Apostles,  with  an  influ- 
ence dependent  more  upon  their  characters  than  upon  any  well 
defined  and  legalized  powers.  However  appointed  originally, 
the  appointment  would  seem  to  have  been  ratified  by  a  popu- 
lar vote.  "  The  presbyters,"  says  Milman,  "  would  be  the 
regular  and  perpetual  expositors  of  the  Christian  law,  the  re- 
citers of  the  life,  the  doctrines,  the  death,  the  resurrection  of 
Christ ;  till  the  Gospels  were  written,  and  generally  received, 
they  would  be  the  living  evangelists,  the  oral  scriptures,  the 
spoken  gospels."  The  deacons  were  an  inferior  order,  and  ex- 
ercised a  purely  administrative  office.  Christianity  had  at  firsi 
no  strictly  sacerdotal  functionaries ;  but  by  degrees  the  more 
eminent  teachers  were  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  commu- 
nity. "It  was  the  Christian  who  then  sanctified  the  function,' 
says  an  elegant  writer,  "  afterwards  the  function  sanctified  the 
man";  and  by  degrees  the  deacons,  presbyters,  and  bishopa 
became  a  sacred  class.  The  sacerdotal  principle  once  estab- 
lished, these  ranks  of  the  hierarchy  formed  themselves  into 
'rind  of  religious  aristocracy,  and,  assuming  titles  from  the  Jew 


GREECE   CHRISTIANIZED.  3*VJ 

ish  and  even  Pagan  systems,  became  a  priestly  caste,  with  an 
asserted  right  of  nearer  approach  to  the  Deity,  "in  a  religion," 
to  borrow  the  words  of  an  Episcopal  writer,  '*  which,  in  its 
primary  institution,  acknowledged  only  one  Mediator  between 
earth  and  heaven."  Early  in  the  third  century,  the  official 
character  of  the  bishops  was  recognized  at  the  imperial  court, 
and  churches  began  to  rise  in  different  parts  of  the  Empire. 
With  these  changes  in  the  outward  and  worldly  relations  of 
Christianity,  the  enthusiasm  which  had  animated  its  earliei 
days  became  less  fervent,  and  the  tone  of  feeling  among  the 
rich  and  powerful  members  of  the  Christian  communities  more 
worldly.  At  the  same  time  paganism  was  growing  more  seri- 
ous. The  loose  manners  of  those  who  had  abandoned  all  ear- 
nest convictions  on  religious  subjects  were  checked  by  the 
purer  morality  of  the  Christians ;  so  that  heathenism  itself  be- 
came, by  contact  with  Christianity,  in  a  certain  degree  Chris- 
tianized, in  the  characters  of  its  most  respectable  supporters, 
like  Julian,  Libanius,  and  many  of  the  rhetorical  and  philo- 
sophical teachers  in  the  schools  of  Alexandria  and  Athens. 

Allusion  has  already  been  made  to  the  controversies  which 
early  distracted  the  peace  of  the  Church.  I  would  not  be 
understood  to  treat  with  disrespect  the  questions  which  so 
profoundly  agitated  the  minds  of  men  in  those  ages;  but  I 
think  it  must  be  admitted  by  candid  inquirers  that  in  all  times 
the  Church  has  been  divided  very  much  more  as  to  what  a 
man  ought  to  think,  than  as  to  what  he  ought  to  do  to  be 
saved ;  while  Christ  and  the  Apostles  were  at  pains  to  answer 
the  latter  question,  without  apparently  concerning  themselves 
so  much  about  the  former.  Love  to  man  and  love  to  God, 
repentance  for  sin,  the  government  of  the  passions,  and  the 
consecration  of  the  whole  being  to  the  high  service  of  God  and 
man,  —  these  duties,  sanctioned  by  the  manifestations  of  a  di- 
vine power  exercised  by  the  Lord,  and  accompanied  by  the  au- 
thoritative declaration  from  Heaven  that  a  day  of  judgment  is 
coming,  and  a  future  state  of  retribution  is  to  follow  this  mortal 
scene,  are  the  topics  of  the  New  Testament ;  —  but  the  questions 


320  MODERN   GREECE. 

on  which  the  early  Christians  split  were,  whether  the  Son  was 
homoousian  with  the  Father ;  whether  he  was  homoiousian  ■ 
whether  the  Holy  Spirit  proceeded  from  both,  or  from  one  ; 
and  the  like.  Heresy  of  opinion  on  such  questions,  which,  as 
one  of  the  Roman  theologians  pathetically  complained,  could 
not  be  stated  in  the  Latin  tongue,  was  much  more  intensely 
opposed  than  heresy  of  conduct  ;  and  strangely  enough, 
it  was  thought  then  —  perhaps  the  mistake  has  not  been 
wholly  corrected  now  —  that  councils  had  power  to  bring  these 
debates  to  an  authoritative  settlement,  binding  on  the  con- 
sciences of  all ;  that  banishment  was  a  remedy  for  difference 
of  belief;  that  the  doubter  ought  to  be  satisfied  by  the  vote 
of  a  majority  ;  that  metaphysical  enigmas  could  be  solved  by 
dogmatic  decisions  one  way,  and  then  differently  solved  by 
dogmatic  decisions  another  way.  It  is  not  surprising  that  the 
subtilty  of  the  Greek  intellect,  so  prone  to  wire-drawn  specu- 
lations long  before  it  began  to  exercise  itself  on  Christianity, 
should  have  started  these  questions  ;  but  it  is  surprising  that 
the  logical  acuteness  for  which  it  was  equally  distinguished 
did  not  see  the  practical  absurdity  of  such  violent  proceedings. 
Both  parties,  the  Arians  as  well  as  the  Orthodox,  were  alike 

n  this  matter:  both  resorted  to  synodical  majorities,  imperial 
influence,  deposition,  and  exile,  as  means  of  establishing  their 
own  creeds. 

It  would  not  be  to  my  purpose  to  enter  in  detail  into  the 
action  of  the  councils,  oecumenical  or  local,  by  which,  after 
many  fluctuations  and  divisions,  and  with  many  protests  on 
the  part  of  dissenting  bodies,  the  leading  articles  of  the  creed 
of  the  Greek  Church,  and,  down  to  the  separation  between 
Constantinople  and  Rome,  of  the  entire  Christian  world,  were 
established.  The  most  important  subject  of  debate  involved 
the  belief  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  which,  in  one  form  or 
another,  has  been  the  fundamental  dogma  of  the  Church,  from 
the  time  when  Arius  and  Alexander  joined  issue  before  the 
synod  of  Libyan  and  Egyptian  bishops  at  the  beginning  of  the 

buith   century,  exhibiting  a   spectacle   not  very  edifying  ov 


GREECE   CHRISTIANIZED.  321 

either  side.  A  little  later,  when  Constantine  called  the  general 
council  at  Nicaea  (A.  D.  325),  in  which  three  hundred  bishops 
undertook  to  settle  the  faith  of  the  world,  Athanasius  was 
again  victorious ;  Arius  was  anathematized,  and  his  work? 
were  ordered  to  be  burned. 

Athanasius  is  perhaps  the  one  theological  thinker  who  has 
exercised  the  deepest  influence  on  opinion,  both  in  ancient  ard 
in  modern  times.  Born  in  Alexandria,  and  educated  by  Bishop 
Alexander  for  the  Christian  ministry,  be  became  the  friend 
and  biographer  of  St.  Anthony,  the  founder  of  the  monastic 
system.  He  was  a  member  of  the  council  of  Nicaea,  took  a 
leading  part  in  the  arguments  against  Arianism,  assisted  in 
drawing  up  the  creed,  and  the  next  year,  on  the  death  of  his 
friend  and  patron,  Alexander,  was  promoted  to  the  vacant  see. 
Troubles  soon  broke  out.  He  refused  to  obey  the  imperial 
command  which  required  him  to  restore  Arius,  who  had  been 
banished  after  the  condemnation  of  his  doctrines  by  the  council 
at  Nicaea ;  and  so  the  Emperor  called  him  proud,  turbulent,  ob- 
stinate, and  intractable.  He  was  accused  of  treason,  of  licen- 
tiousness, of  sacrilege,  of  murder, —  all  which  charges  were  dis- 
proved. Yet  a  council  summoned  at  Tyre  in  the  Arian  inter- 
est, by  an  act  of  flagrant  injustice,  decreed  that  he  should  be 
deposed.  He  was  replaced  by  Constantine  II. ;  but  at  another 
council  held  at  Antioch,  the  Arians  a  second  time  accomplished 
his  overthrow.  He  fled  to  Rome,  from  the  assaults  of  Greg- 
ory the  Cappadocian  ;  at  Rome  another  council  restored  him 
to  the  episcopal  chair ;  and  the  decision  of  the  Roman  council 
was  confirmed  by  the  council  of  Sardica.  On  the  death  of  the 
Cappadocian,  Athanasius  returned  to  Alexandria.  He  was 
again  condemned  by  the  council  of  Aries,  and  by  that  of  Milan, 
the  imperial  authority  being  employed  against  him ;  and  his 
supporters  were  banished.  From  Alexandria  he  now  fled  to 
the  Egyptian  deserts,  and  the  famous  George  of  Cappadocia 
took  his  vacant  seat.  Among  the  monks  of  Egypt,  he  em- 
ployed himself  in  writing  theological  works ;  and  it  is  a  sin- 
gular fact  that  he  was  indebted  for  his  recall  to  the   Emperor 

VOL.    II.  21 


822  MODERN   GREECE. 

Julian  the  Apostate.  But  before  long  the  restorer  of  heathen- 
ism found  the  zeal  and  dauntless  courage  of  Athanasius  such 
obstacles  in  his  way,  that  he  banished  him  from  Egypt,  and,  ir 
a  letter  still  extant,  threatened  the  Prefect  with  a  heavy  fine 
unless  the  sentence  were  carried  into  instant  execution.  The 
death  of  Julian  brought  him  back  to  Alexandria ;  but  in  the 
reign  of  Valens  he  was  a  fifth  time  driven  into  banishment 
In  a  few  months  he  was  again  recalled,  and  remained  un- 
molested until  his  death,  in  373,  having  held  the  primacy  forty- 
six  years ;  having,  by  a  singular  good  fortune,  been  able  to 
disprove  every  accusation  against  his  character,  and  having 
succeeded  in  establishing  the  doctrines  for  which  he  had  so 
often  hazarded  his  peace,  if  not  his  life.  He  was  a  man  of  un- 
surpassed vigor  and  courage,  but  wanting  in  the  gentleness 
which  conciliates  affection.  He  was  dogmatic  in  the  highest 
degree,  and,  where  dogmas  were  in  question,  a  remorseless, 
though  a  perfectly  conscientious  tyrant.  Not  content  with  hold- 
ing his  own  opinions,  he  insisted  on  forcing  them  upon  others. 
In  the  Church  Militant  he  was  a  gallant  soldier;  but  I  think, 
if  we  try  him  by  the  standard  of  the  New  Testament,  we  shall 
find  him  wanting  in  some  of  those  less  shining,  but  more  essen- 
tial, qualities  of  character  which  the  teachings  of  Jesus  are 
fitted  and  intended  to  produce.  His  works  are  numerous,  and 
of  much  importance,  as  exhibiting  the  tendency  of  Christian 
sentiment  at  this  period. 

The  sway  acquired  by  the  Church  over  belief  and  conduct 
increased  with  the  enlargement  of  its  temporal  boundaries. 
The  influence  of  great  names  and  formal  creeds  strengthened 
the  direct  control  of  the  hierarchy  over  the  hopes  and  the 
terrors  of  men.  One  after  another,  auricular  confession,  ex- 
communication, anathema,  as  well  as  an  increasing  share  in  the 
direction  of  civil  affairs,  invested  the  Church  with  a  mysterious 
and  awful  power,  which  the  private  citizens  first,  then  the 
nobles,  and,  finally,  princes  themselves,  lacked  the  courage  to 
confront.  This  tremendous  concentration  of  power  was  per 
haps  needful  to  carry  the  institutions  of  Christianity  securely 


GREECE   CHRISTIANIZED.  323 

through  the  storms  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  but  still  we  cannot 
help  regretting  that  so  much  of  the  worldly  spirit  blended 
with  the  pure  elements  of  our  religion,  that  the  secular  arm 
was  so  often  invoked  to  execute  unhallowed  purposes,  and  that 
so  many  deeds  of  violence  and  blood  stain  the  pages  of  Chris- 
tian history. 

But  the  secular  and  controversial  aspects  of  this  period  are 
much  less  attractive  than  the  practical  application  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion  to  daily  life,  and  the  development  of  Christian 
eloquence  from  the  sacred  chair.  The  public  teaching  of  the 
Christian  fathers  has  much  that  is  admirable.  Men  felt,  in 
listening  to  them,  that  not  their  worldly  prosperity,  but  their 
eternal  salvation,  was  the  prize  to  be  won ;  and  they  hung 
upon  their  words  with  a  trembling  anxiety  that  broke  out  in 
sighs,  tears,  ejaculations,  and  raptures.  Clement  of  Alexan- 
dria, Origen,  Basilius,  and  Johannes  Chrysostomus  are  the 
names  which  readily  occur  as  those  of  the  most  eminent  leaders 
in  this  department  of  Christian  letters.  All  these  great  men 
were  distinguished  for  their  learning,  as  well  as  for  their  abil- 
ity and  virtue.  The  critical  studies  of  Origen  were  highly 
esteemed ;  though  their  results  lose  much  of  their  value,  com- 
paratively, from  his  allegorical  style  of  interpretation.  He  was 
the  most  voluminous  of  authors,  if  it  be  true,  as  reported,  that 
he  wrote  six  thousand  books ;  but  the  octavo  edition  of  his 
works  contains  only  fifteen  volumes,  —  a  very  small  portion  of 
the  whole.  The  opinions  of  this  celebrated  father,  in  the  time 
of  the  controversy  between  the  Orthodox  and  the  Arians,  were 
severely  handled ;  and  not  only  were  they  condemned  in  the 
second  oecumenical  council,  but  the  question  of  his  salvation 
was  seriously  argued  in  the  following  ages  by  the  Greek 
theologians.  A  book  was  published  in  Paris  on  this  subject,  in 
1629,  by  Stephen  Binet,  in  which  the  principal  writers  who 
had  discussed  the  question  are  introduced,  and  one  of  them, 
who  had  pronounced  against  Origen,  is  represented  as  pro- 
posing tc  go  down  into  the  infernal  regions  to  see  with  his 
own  eyes  what  had  become  01  him. 


324  MODERN   GREECE. 

Johannes  Cbrysostomus,  or  the  golden-mouthed,  was  born  in 
the  middle  of  the  fourth  century.  Libanius,  as  I  mentioned  in 
speaking  of  that  distinguished  scholar,  taught  him  eloquence,  and 
said  he  should  have  desired  to  see  him  his  own  successor  in  his 
school,  had  not  the  Christians  stolen  him.  He  is  said  to  have 
retired  to  a  cavern,  and  there  to  have  committed  the  whole 
Bible  to  memory.  His  great  success  as  a  preacher  led  to  his 
appointment  as  Archbishop  of  Constantinople ;  but  he  dealt 
with  the  vices  of  the  capital  so  unsparingly,  that  he  was  soon 
surrounded  by  enemies,  at  the  head  of  whom  was  the  Empress 
Eudocia.  He  deposed  thirteen  bishops  in  Asia  Minor  for 
simony,  which  did  not  add  to  his  popularity  with  the  higher 
orders  of  the  clergy.  He  was  accused  of  heresy,  this  being 
the  most  convenient  charge  to  bring  against  an  ecelesiastic 
whom  it  was  desirable  to  ruin.  He  was  deposed  by  a  council 
at  Chalcedon,  but  was  hastily  recalled  by  the  Empress,  who 
was  frightened  by  an  earthquake,  which  the  people  believed  to 
have  been  sent  as  a  punishment  of  the  city  for  his  banishment. 
Two  months  later  he  was  again  exiled  on  account  of  his  ser- 
mon upon  the  silver  statue  of  the  Empress.  From  this  exile 
he  never  returned.  He  died  in  consequence  of  the  fatigue  to 
which  he  was  subjected  in  being  removed  to  Pontus,  that  he 
might  be  farther  from  the  capital,  where  his  name  was  still 
held  in  reverence  by  the  people.  His  last  words  were,  "  Glory 
to  God  for  all  things."  His  followers  at  Constantinople  sep- 
arated from  the  Church,  and  for  more  than  thirty  years  re- 
fused to  acknowledge  his  successors,  returning  to  the  com- 
munion only  when  Theodosius  II.  brought  back  his  bones  to 
Constantinople,  where  they  were  received  with  distinguished 
lonors,  the  Emperor  himself  imploring  the  pardon  of  Heaven 
'br  the  offences  of  his  parents.  Chrysostom  was  a  voluminous 
author,  and  a  great  part  of  his  writings  have  been  preserved. 
His  powers  as  a  preacher  were  extraordinary,  and  many  have 
ranked  him  as  an  orator  with  Demosthenes  and  Cicero.  "We 
cannot  fail,"  says  a  good  judge,  "to  admire  the  power  of  his 
language  in  expressing  moral  indignation,  and  to  sympathize 


ST.    CHRYSOSTOM.  325 

with  the  ardent  love  of  all  that  is  good  and  noble,  the  fervent 
piety,  and  the  absorbing  faith  in  the  Christian  revelation, 
which  pervade  his  writings."  His  faults  are  too  great  diffuse- 
ness,  and  an  excessive  love  of  metaphor  and  ornament.  He 
often  repelled  with  indignation  the  applause  with  which  his 
sermons  were  greeted,  exclaiming,  "  The  place  where  you  are 
is  no  theatre,  nor  are  you  now  sitting  to  gaze  upon  actors." 

It  would  be  out  of  proportion  to  the  general  brevity  of  these 
sketches,  were  I  to  enter  at  large  on  the  literary  or  other 
merits  of  this  most  distinguished  and  admirable  man  ;  but  hav- 
ing in  a  former  Lecture  spoken  of  the  writings  of  the  eminent 
Apostate,  I  have  thought  it  might  serve  to  complete  the  out- 
line of  the  literary  picture  of  the  times,  were  I  to  give  a  few 
characteristic  illustrations,  before  quitting  this  subject,  from  a 
Christian  of  still  greater  eminence. 

The  Homilies  of  St.  Chrysostom  were  undoubtedly  well 
suited  to  the  purpose  for  which  they  were  composed,  —  living 
addresses  to  the  congregations  of  a  large  and  luxurious  capital, 
on  matters  of  conduct,  moral  ideas,  and  religious  duties.  In 
passages  they  breathe  an  admirable  eloquence,  and  manifest 
a  sobriety  of  Scriptural  interpretation  and  a  practical  sense 
in  Scriptural  application  which  contrast  very  favorably  with 
the  declamations  of  many  of  his  followers.  In  style  they 
are  excellent,  without  being  fastidiously  classical ;  being  com- 
posed in .  such  a  manner  as  neither  to  transcend  the  com- 
prehension of  common  hearers  nor  to  shock  the  tastes  of  the 
educated.  But  if  we  judge  them  as  works  of  art,  as  we  would 
criticise  an  oration  of  Demosthenes  or  Cicero,  we  cannot  hesi- 
tate to  place  their  author  far  below  those  prime  masters  of 
eloquence.  There  is  a  great  accumulation  of  topics  which 
have  a  very  remote  connection,  if  any,  with  the  text  or  the 
subject  which  he  proposes  to  discuss.  Whatever  is  in  any 
way  suggested  by  the  words  of  the  text,  he  readily  admits 
into  the  discourse.  In  the  series  of  Homilies,  addressed  to  the 
people  of  Antioch,  on  tr  3  Statues,  that  is,  on  the  occasion  of 
the  statues  of  the  Emperor  and  Empress  being  pulled  down 


826  MODERN   GREECE. 

by  the  mob,  there  is  one  on  the  text  from  Timothy,  "  Use  a 
little  wine  for  thy  stomach's  sake,  and  thine  often  infirmities." 
The  address  opens  with  several  pages  of  very  striking  reflec- 
tions on  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  "  which  is  not  a  meadow 
only,  but  a  paradise  ;  for  the  flowers  here  have  not  mere  fra- 
grance only,  but  fruit  too,  capable  of  nourishing  the  soul." 
Then  he  comes  to  the  text,  "  which,  though  simple  and  obvious, 
affords  the  means  of  abundant  riches,  and  openings  toward  the 
highest  wisdom."  Two  or  three  pages  of  observations  on  the 
duty  not  to  listen  slothfully  then  follow.  The  first  inquiry 
suggested  by  the  text  is,  "  Why  did  God  permit  a  man  like 
Timothy  to  fall  into  such  a  constant  and  prolonged  state  of  in- 
firmity, especially  as  he  was  one  intrusted  with  public  affairs  ?  " 
and  the  second  is,  "  Why,  since  the  Apostles  were  gifted  with 
miraculous  powers,  did  not  Timothy  cure  himself?  or  why  did 
not  Paul  cure  him,  instead  of  writing  him  to  take  refuge  in  the 
healing  virtue  of  wine  ?  "  "  Not,"  says  the  preacher,  "  that 
to  drink  wine  is  shameful.  God  forbid !  For  such  precepts  be- 
long to  heretics."  Before  proceeding  to  solve  these  questions, 
he  has  a  word  to  say  of  the  virtue  of  Timothy,  and  the  solici- 
tude of  Paul.  The  former  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  he  was 
not  naturally  so  infirm  a  person,  but  had  destroyed  the  strength 
of  his  stomach  by  fasting  and  water-drinking.  On  this  sub- 
ject he  enlarges  with  admirable  vigor,  showing  that  even  St. 
Paul  himself,  after  he  had  been  rapt  into  the  third  heaven, 
and  transported  to  Paradise,  still  feared  lest  he  should  be  a 
castaway.  "  Seeing  these  things,  Timothy  fortified  himself  on 
every  side ;  for  he  knew  that  youth  is  an  age  of  difficulty,  that 
it  is  unstable,  easily  deceived,  very  apt  to  slip,  and  requires  an 
exceedingly  strong  bridle.  It  is  indeed  a  sort  of  combustible 
pile,  easily  catching  anything  from  without,  and  quickly  kin- 
dled, and  for  that  reason  he  took  care  to  smother  it  on  all 
sides,  and  strove  to  abate  the  flame  in  every  way.  The  steed 
that  was  bridled  with  difficulty,  and  hardly  subject  to  the  rein- 
he  curbed  with  much  vehemence,  until  he  had  tamed  him  of 
his  wanton  tricks,  until  he  had  made  him  obedient,  and  de- 


ST.    CHRYSOSTOM.  327 

livered  him,  under  entire  control,  into  the  hands  of  that  reason 
which  was  to  guide  him."  But  there  is  another  side  of  the  sub- 
ject not  to  be  omitted,  and  that  is  the  apparent  encouragement 
the  text  holds  out  to  drinking  wine  too  freely.  On  this  point 
he  says  that  the  Apostle,  in  writing  to  Timothy,  "prescribes  the 
measure  and  limit  of  wine-drinking  for  us ;  bidding  him  drink 
just  so  much  as  would  correct  disorder, —  as  would  bring  health 
to  the  body,  and  not  another  disease."  Some  of  his  ideas  on 
this  subject  would  not  pass  unchallenged  now.  I  quote  them 
partly  to  show  that  the  same  question  which  is  agitating  society 
at  this  moment  —  the  duty  of  total  abstinence  from  wine  —  was 
discussed  in  the  early  Christian  churches,  and  that  there  was 
the  same  division  of  opinion  among  their  members  which  we 
notice  at  this  day  among  ourselves.  St.  Chrysostom  was 
rigidly  temperate ;  but  with  such  a  platform  as  he  lays  down, 
it  is  doubtful  whether  he  would  command  a  very  large  popular 
vote.  "  Let  us  guard,  then,  against  a  want  of  moderation  on 
either  side,  and  let  us  take  care  of  the  health  of  the  body,  at 
the  same  time  that  we  prune  away  its  luxurious  propensi- 
ties  Wine  maketh  glad  the  heart  of  man  ;   but  thou 

makest  it  a  matter  for  sadness It  is  the  best  medicine 

when  it  has  the  best  moderation  to  direct  it.  The  passage  be- 
fore us  is  useful  also  against  the  heretics,  who  speak  evil  of 
God's  creatures ;  for  if  it  had  been  among  the  number  of  things 
forbidden,  Paul  would  not  have  permitted  it,  nor  would  have 
said  it  was  to  be  used.  And  not  only  against  the  heretics,  but 
against  the  simple  ones  of  our  brethren,  who,  when  they  see 
any  persons  disgracing  themselves  by  drunkenness,  instead  of 
reproving  such,  blame  the  fruit  given  them  of  God,  and  say, 
Let  there  be  no  wine.  We  would  say  then,  in  answer  to  such, 
Let  there  be  no  drunkenness ;  for  wine  is  the  work  of  God,  but 
drunkenness  is  the  work  of  the  Devil.  Wine  maketh  not 
drunkenness,  but  intemperance  produceth  it.  Do  not  accuse 
that  which  is  the  workmanship  of  God,  but  accuse  the  madness 
of  a  fellow-mortal." 

In  the  following  paragraph  ne  paints  the  drunkard  in  thp 


328  MODERN   GREECE. 

most  startling  colors :  "  The  drunkard  is  a  living  corpse. 
Drunkenness  is  a  demon  self-chosen,  a  disease  without  excuse, 
an  overthrow  that  admits  of  no  apology,  —  a  common  shame 
to  our  kind.  The  drunken  man  is  not  only  useless  in  our 
assemblies,  and  in  all  public  and  private  affairs  ;  but  in  his 
mere  aspect  and  breath  he  is  the  most  loathsome  and  dis- 
gusting of  all  things.  And  the  crown  of  these  evils  is,  that 
this  disease  makes  heaven  inaccessible  to  drunkards,  and  does 
not  suffer  them  to  win  eternal  blessedness ;  for  besides  the 
shame  attending  on  those  who  labor  under  it  here,  a  grievous 
punishment  is  also  awaiting  them  there."  Under  the  head, 
"  Of  the  Reasons  why  God  permitted  such  a  Saint  as  Timothy 
to  fall  into  Disease,"  he  advances  to  the  general  consideration 
of  the  sufferings  and  calamities  to  which  good  men  are  exposed. 
Eight  reasons  are  given  in  order ;  and  then  these  eight  reasons 
are  established  from  the  Scriptures,  after  which  two  supplement- 
ary reasons  are  added,  with  their  several  illustrations.  The 
case  of  Job  is  naturally  enough  suggested,  in  speaking  of  the 
misfortunes  of  good  men.  He  shows  that  the  temptations  of 
affliction  are  to  be  resisted,  and  patience  to  be  gained  by  trial ; 
that  no  calamity  is  an  excuse  for  blasphemy,  and  that  blas- 
phemers are  to  be  publicly  rebuked,  and  even  beaten ;  and  then 
the  whole  is  applied  to  the  city  of  Antioch  under  her  afflictions. 
I  think  we  have  in  this  Homily  a  fair  illustration,  not  only 
of  the  discursive  character  of  Chrysostom's  mind,  but  of  the 
subtilty  and  adroitness  which  so  strongly  mark  the  Greek  in- 
tellect in  general.  I  am  tempted  to  quote  a  few  sentences  from 
other  Homilies,  to  exhibit  the  more  dignified  style  of  thinking 
which  was  also  natural  to  his  genius.  In  the  ninth  Homily 
to  the  people  of  Antioch,  on  the  text,  "  The  heavens  declare 
the  glory  of  God,"  he  thus  enlarges :  "  How  then,  tell  me,  do 
they  declare  it  ?  Voice  they  have  none ;  mouth  they  possess 
not ;  no  tongue  is  theirs ;  how  then  do  they  declare  it  ?  By 
means  of  the  spectacle  itself.  For  when  thou  seest  the  beauty, 
the  magnitude,  the  height,  the  position,  the  form,  the  stability 
during  so  long  a  time,  hearing,  as  it  were,  a  voice,  and  in 


ST.   CHKYSOSTOM.  829 

structed  by  the  spectacle,  thou  adorest  Him  who  created  so  fair 
and  admirable  a  body.  The  heavens  are  silent ;  but  the  sight 
of  them  utters  a  voice  clearer  than  a  trumpet's  sound."  This 
is  followed  by  a  passage,  equally  admirable,  on  the  universality 
of  the  teachings  of  the  heavens,  suggested  by  the  words, 
"  There  is  no  speech  nor  language  where  their  voice  is  not 
heard." 

One  of  the  consequences  of  the  riot  at  Antioch  was  the  im- 
perial decree  degrading  the  city  from  her  rank  as  a  metropolis. 
In  suggesting  consolations  to  the  Christians  there,  he  indulges 
in  the  following  beautiful  and  striking  vein  of  reflection. 
"  Dost  thou  grieve  that  the  dignity  of  the  city  is  taken  away  ? 
Learn  what  the  dignity  of  a  city  is ;  and  then  shalt  thou  clearly 
know,  that,  if  the  inhabitants  do  not  betray  it,  no  one  else  will 
be  able  to  take  away  the  dignity  of  a  city.  Not,  then,  that 
this  is  a  metropolis ;  not  that  it  contains  large  and  beautiful 
edifices ;  not  its  having  many  columns,  and  spacious  porticos 
and  walks ;  not  its  being  named  in  proclamations  before  other 
cities ;  —  but  the  virtue  and  piety  of  those  who  dwell  there- 
in, —  these  are  a  city's  dignity  and  ornament  and  defence  ; 
since,  if  these  are  not  found  in  it,  it  is  more  worthless  than  all 
things,  though  it  enjoy  honor  ten  thousand  fold  from  emper- 
ors. Dost  thou  wish  to  hear  the  dignity  of  thy  city?  Dost 
thou  wish  to  know  its  ancestral  honors  ?  I  will  tell  it  exactly  ; 
not  only  that  thou  mayst  know,  but  that  thou  mayst  also  emu- 
late. What,  then,  is  the  dignity  of  this  city  of  ours?  And  the 
disciples  were  called  Christians  first  in  Antioch.  This  dignity 
none  of  the  cities  throughout  the  world  possesses,  not  even 
the  city  of  Romulus  herself."  The  whole  of  this  Homily,  the 
seventeenth  to  the  people  of  Antioch,  is  excellent,  and  con- 
tains many  other  passages  I  have  marked  for  reference,  equally 
characteristic  of  the  author's  highest  style  of  thought,  and 
equally  worthy  of  the  fame  of  *he  greatest  Christian  preacher 
of  antiquity. 

Chrysostom,  besides  being  a  »ery  eloquent  preacher,  was 
plain-spoken  to  a  degree  we  seldom  witness  at  present.    It  was 


S30  MODERN   GREECE. 

the  fashion  for  the  ladies,  in  those  times,  to  paint  the  face  and 
dye  the  eyebrows.     He  advises  the  husband  of  such  a  one  "to 

talk  to  her  by  reflecting  on  neighbors  who  do  the  same 

Ask  her  if  she  wishes  to  look  young,  and  tell  her  this  is  the 
quickest  way  to  look  old.  Finally,  come  down  upon  her  with 
the  warnings  of  Scripture.  You  may  speak  once  and  again, 
and  she  is  invincible,  but  never  desist ;  be  always  amiable  and 
bland,  but  still  persevere.  It  is  worth  putting  every  engine  in 
motion  ;  if  you  stieeeed,  you  will  no  more  see  lips  stained  with 
vermilion,  a  mouth  like  that  of  a  bear  reeking  with  gore,  nor 
eyebrows  blackened  as  from  a  sooty  kettle,  nor  cheeks  plas- 
tered like  whited  sepulchres."  He  berates  the  ladies  for  scold 
ing  their  servants,  and  even  beating  them.  On  the  text, 
"Let  all  clamor  be  put  away,"  he  says:  "Above  all  things,  let 
women  hear  this ;  for  it  treats  of  their  habitual  practice.  When 
they  are  exasperated  with  their  damsels,  the  whole  house  re- 
echoes to  the  cry ;  and  should  the  house  adjoin  the  street,  every 
passer-by  overhears  the  screaming  mistress  and  the  shrieking 
maid.  '  What  can  be  the  matter  ? '  bursts  from  every  mouth. 
4  It  is  Madam  Such-a-one,  beating  her  maid.'  "  Of  a  lady 
wearing  ear-rings  he  exclaims  :  "  Yes,  in  one  tip  of  her  little 
ear  she  will  suspend  a  ring  that  might  have  paid  for  the  food 
of  ten  thousand  poor  Christians."  Yet  Chrysostom  was  the 
preacher  whom  people  most  delighted  to  listen  to.  If  they 
found  another  in  the  chair  when  they  expected  to  hear  him, 
the  poor  gentleman  who  supplied  his  place  was  received  with 
hooting  and  tumult ;  and  on  one  occasion  the  Bishop  of  Ga- 
latia,  a  gray-headed  ecclesiastic,  on  a  visit  to  Chrysostom,  and 
invited  by  him  to  give  what  is  now  called  a  labor  of  love,  was 
obliged  to  abandon  the  attempt.  The  more  severe  he  was,  the 
better  they  liked  him.  He  carried  all  before  him ;  he  capti- 
vated man  and  woman,  Gentile  and  Christian ;  and  whenever 
he  preached,  and  whatever  his  subject,  loud  applauses  wel- 
comed his  golden  sentences.  "  The  excessive  throng  com- 
pelled him  to  deviate  from  the  usual  practice  of  preaching  from 
the  steps  of  the  altar.     He  was  to  be  seen,  worn,  attenuated 


ST.    CHKYSOSTOM.  331 

and  sallow,  sitting  in  the  reader's  desk,  nearly  in  the  centre  of 
the  church,  while  the  people  with  open  mouth  caught  up  his 
words,  insatiably  longing  for  more,  and  pressed  and  crushed 
each  other  to  imbibe  more  closely  the  spell  of  his  eloquence." 
Though  himself  unmarried,  and  in  fact,  as  appears  from  one 
of  his  works,  an  advocate  of  universal  celibacy,  even  sneering 
at  those  who  urged  against  him  the  natural  consequence  of  the 
disappearance  of  the  race  under  such  a  system,  yet  he  oc- 
casionally gave  good  advice  to  parents  on  the  marriage  of 
their  children,  and  to  married  persons  on  their  demeanor  to- 
wards each  other ;  evidently  despairing  of  seeing  his  theory 
adopted,  and  hoping  only  to  mitigate  a  chronic  and  epidemic 
evil.  Wealthy  matches,  great  establishments,  seem  to  have 
been  the  fashion  at  Constantinople,  as  well  as  in  other  places 
and  times.  "  Even  without  a  dowry,"  exclaims  the  preacher, 
"  women  abound  with  pride  and  are  prone  to  vain-glory ;  but 
with  such  an  accession,  how  are  they  to  be  borne  ?  The  object 
of  marriage  is  not  to  fill  our  homes  with  war  and  battle ;  and 
yet  how  many,  after  contracting  rich  alliances,  have  daily 
quarrels  over  their  tables  ! "  And  then  the  ladies  clapped  their 
white  hands.  In  another  place  he  favors  his  hearers  with  a 
curtain  lecture,  picked  up  from  some  Mrs.  Caudle  of  Byzan- 
tium. Madam  says  to  her  husband:  "  Neighbor  So-and-so  is  a 
low  fellow,  and  his  father  and  mother  before  him  were  vulgar. 
But  he  makes  a  great  noise  in  the  world,  and  has  risen  to 
fortune.  His  wife  is  covered  with  gold,  drives  white  mules, 
goes  where  she  likes,  with  handsome  maids  and  plenty  of 
slaves ;  while  you,  you  coward,  you  good-for-nothing,  you 
booby,  are  dozing  away  in  your  cell,  unhappy  woman  that  I 
am."  "A  wife,"  says  he,  "should  not  say  such  things;  but 
if  she  does,  her  husband  had  better  not  flog  her,  but  smooth 
her  down,  considering  that  she  is  i  little  out  of  sorts."  Dress 
came  in  for  a  share  in  the  good  preacher's  anathemas,  espe- 
cially shoes,  on  which  the  gentry  of  Constantinople  and  Antioch 
expended  a  great  deal  of  care  and  money.  "  Ships  are  built, 
rowers  and  steersmen  collected,  sails  unfurled,  and  ocean  fur- 


832  MODERN   GREECE. 

rowed,  wife,  children,  country  are  abandoned,  and  the  soul  of 
the  merchant  hazarded  to  the  waves,  —  and  all  that  you  may  get 
threads  of  silk  to  embroider  your  shoes  and  beautify  the  upper- 
leather.  How  can  he  have  heavenly  ideas  who  is  wise  about 
the  texture  of  the  silk,  the  delicacy  of  its  color,  the  ivy  tint 
which  results  from  the  due  disposition  of  the  threads?  No; 
his  soul  is  forever  in  the  mire,  while  he  goes  on  tiptoe  through 
the  agora.  He  begets  to  himself  sorrow  and  despair,  lest  in 
winter  he  slip  into  the  mud,  and  in  summer  shuffle  in  the  dust. 
O  my  friend,  how  canst  thou  be  so  troubled  about  thy 
shoes  ?  Learn  their  true  utility.  Shoes  were  designed  for 
trampling  on  the  filth  and  unseemliness  of  the  pavement.  II 
this  will  not  suffice  thee,  take  them  up  and  hang  them  round 
thy  neck,  or  stick  them  on  thy  head." 

We  have,  from  many  sources,  very  minute  accounts  of  the 
passion  of  the  people  for  the  lowr  representations  in  the 
theatres  and  the  games  of  the  hippodrome.  The  madness  for 
these  entertainments,  both  according  to  Pagan  authors,  like 
Julian,  who,  heathen  as  he  was,  took  a  rational  view  of  their 
demoralizing  effects,  and  the  sermons  of  the  Christian  clergy, 
reached  a  point  difficult  to  conceive  in  the  present  age. 
"Thither,"  says  Chrysostom,  "the  whole  city  removes;  and 
homes  and  agora  are  evacuated  for  the  frantic  exhibition.  Not 
the  hippodrome  only,  but  houses,  garrets,  roofs,  and  overhang- 
ing hills  are  all  preoccupied.  No  infirmity  checks  the  insatia- 
ble passion ;  but  aged  men,  in  dishonor  of  their  gray  hairs, 
rush  more  eagerly  thither  than  youths  in  their  prime.  When 
attending  our  churches,  they  grow  sick  and  weary  and  listless ; 
they  complain  that  there  is  no  room,  that  they  are  suffocated, 
and  the  like  ;  but  in  the  hippodrome  they  bear  to  be  trampled 
on  and  pushed  and  squeezed  with  intolerable  violence  ;  yes,  in 
the  midst  of  ten  thousand  worse  annoyances,  they  luxuriate  as 
upon  a  grassy  lawn." 

It  would  be  easy  to  accumulate  to  almost  any  extent  the. 
.'haracteristic  touches  by  which  the  eloquent  preacher  present* 
to  us  the  living  features  of  the  age.     We  can  easily  imagine 


THE  EASTERN   CHURCH.  333 

aim,  with  his  slight  and  meagre  form,  his  large  and  well-pro- 
portioned head,  his  hollow  cheeks,  and  sunken  but  gleaming 
eyes,  —  for  so  he  is  described  by  his  biographers,  —  standing  be- 
fore his  crowding  audiences,  and,  while  he  cannot,  as  he  con- 
fesses, wholly  repress  the  human  feeling  of  gratification  in  the 
welcomes  and  plaudits  with  which  he  is  hailed,  yet  dealing 
with  the  faults  and  vices  of  the  times  with  sacred  fervor  and 
overpowering  eloquence.  Many  passages  in  his  Homilies  can- 
not now  be  read  without  a  thrill  of  pleasure  in  the  copiousness 
and  force  of  the  language,  the  grandeur  of  the  imagery,  and 
the  sublime  purity  of  the  religious  sentiment. 

From  the  glimpses  of  the  audiences  we  have  had,  it  will  be 
seen  that  the  staid,  quiet  demeanor  now  required  by  the  deco- 
rum of  the  church 'was  not  known,  or,  if  known,  was  seldom 
observed.  The  clamorous  expression  of  the  feeling  of  the 
moment,  whether  applause  or  censure,  was  transferred  from 
the  theatre,  the  public  assembly,  and  the  courts  of  law,  to  the 
church  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  preacher  was  not  bound 
to  that  grave  and  solemn  style  of  discourse  which  is  now  the 
recognized  characteristic  of  pulpit  eloquence.  Satirical  descrip- 
tions of  foibles  or  follies,  as  well  as  terrific  denunciations  of 
crime,  direct  personal  attacks  on  fashions  in  dress  and  other 
matters  equally  local  and  temporary,  and  probably  the  indication 
of  individual  offenders,  as  well  as  general  reproof  of  the  errors 
of  society  at  large,  it  was  not  only  allowable,  but  imperative, 
to  introduce  into  the  preaching  of  the  word  of  God.  I  find  in 
no  contemporary  heathen  literature  such  intellectual  power 
and  moral  earnestness  as  in  these  Homilies.  The  breath  of 
Almighty  God  had  swept  over  the  stagnant  surface  of  the 
human  mind,  and  stirred  up  its  depths  to  a  fresh  spiritual  life. 
The  awful  truths  of  revelation,  the  tremendous  consequences 
of  sin,  the  beauty  and  tenderness  of  a  Saviour's  love  to  fallen 
men,  inspired  the  preacher  with  a  strain  of  eloquence  to  which 
the  schools  of  Athens  and  Alexandria  were  strangers. 

I  have  thus   endeavored   tc   point   out  the   characteristics 
which  marked  the  two  tendencies  of  the  Greek  mind  in  the 


384  MODERN   GREECE. 

first  centuries  of  our  era  ;  —  the  heathen  tendency,  which  was 
only  a  prolonged  echo  from  former  ages,  and  was  gradually 
growing  fainter  and  fainter;  and  the  new  Christian  tone,  which 
sounds  out  from  the  earlier  preachers  of  the  faith.  I  have  not 
hesitated  to  give  my  own  impressions  of  the  errors  and  the  bad 
temper  of  the  latter,  or  of  the  good  to  be  found  in  the  for- 
mer. For  I  have  no  horror  of  an  honest  heathen,  who  lives 
and  acts  according  to  the  light  that  is  given  him ;  nor  have  I 
an  unqualified  liking  for  a  Christian,  who,  turning  away  from 
the  supernatural  light  of  the  Scriptures,  follows  the  guidance 
of  his  own  passions,  his  pride,  his  arrogance,  his  love  of  power 
over  his  fellows,  under  the  false  pretence  of  zeal  for  the  purity 
of  the  Christian  faith. 

I  have  said  a  few  words  as  to  the  gradual  formation  of 
a  priestly  order,  and  the  final  and  complete  organization  of  the 
Church.  It  would,  perhaps,  be  treading  on  forbidden  ground 
to  touch  upon  the  question  of  the  asserted  supremacy  of  one 
or  another  head  of  the  Christian  world.  Historically  viewed,  I 
suppose  there  can  be  little  doubt  that,  at  the  beginning,  there 
was  no  one  head.  The  bishops  exercised  their  power  quite 
independently,  except  so  far  as  they  in  the  course  of  time  ad- 
mitted the  authority  of  synods  and  councils.  The  gradual 
manner  in  which  the  Bishop  of  Rome  gathered  into  his  own 
person  the  supreme  authority  over  the  spiritual,  and  for  a  long 
period  over  the  temporal,  affairs  of  the  nations  that  acknowl- 
edged him,  it  belongs  not  to  this  place  or  to  my  subject  to 
trace.  Of  the  Eastern  Church,  the  Patriarch  of  Constanti- 
nople finally  rose  to  be  the  acknowledged  head,  and  so  con- 
tinued down  to  modern  times.  At  the  present  moment  he  is 
de  facto  only  the  spiritual  ruler  of  one  of  the  three  divisions 
into  which  that  community  is  separated.  The  Russian  Church 
has  its  independent  organization.  The  Church  in  the  king- 
dom of  Greece  has  been,  since  1843,  wholly  liberated  from  the 
patriarchal  throne  at  Constantinople,  and  is  governed  by  the 
H0I3'  Synod  of  Bishops,  the  constitution  of  which  will  be  here. 
\fter  explained.     King  Otho  is  the  head  of  the  Church  only  in 


THE  EASTERN   CHURCH  33o 

a  political  sense.  The  relation  sustained  by  the  royal  family 
to  the  national  Church  is  a  singular  one.  The  king  is  a 
Romanist,  with  a  Roman  Catholic  chaplain ;  the  queen  is  a 
Protestant,  with  a  Protestant  chaplain  ;  and,  if  they  should 
have  a  son  and  heir,  which  most  unfortunately  for  the  country 
they  have  not  as  yet,  it  is  required  by  the  Constitution  that 
he  shall  be  educated  according  to  the  faith  of  the  orthodox 
Oriental  Church. 

The  worship  of  the  primitive  churches  appears  to  have  been 
of  the  most  simple  kind,  and  the  forms  to  have  been  regulated 
wholly  by  the  several  societies,  according  to  their  taste  or  con- 
venience. Something  like  a  uniform  system  began  to  be 
thought  suitable  for  the  general  advantage  of  the  Christian 
body.  The  first  places  of  worship  were  the  homes  of  the 
disciples ;  and  in  times  of  persecution,  caves,  catacomb's,  and 
other  secret  spots  were  resorted  to  for  security,  —  from  which 
the  use  of  candles,  both  in  the  Greek  and  in  the  Latin  Church, 
undoubtedly  originated.  When  particular  buildings  were  es- 
tablished for  religious  services,  they  were  called  TrpoaevKT^pia, 
houses  of  prayer,  or  /cvpia/cd,  homes  of  the  Lord,  from  which 
last  term  the  Scottish  word  kirk  and  the  English  church  are 
derived.  There  was  no  distinction  of  dress  to  mark  the  lead- 
ers in  the  churches  until  after  the  time  of  Constantine.  The 
elaborate  and  costly  robes  now  worn  by  the  bishops  and  pa- 
triarchs, and  on  great  festivals  by  the  inferior  clergy  of  the 
Greek  Church,  were  all  invented  after  the  connection  of 
the  Church  with  the  State,  when  she  became  almost  a  co- 
ordinate branch  of  the  imperial  power.  It  was  a  long  time 
before  the  technical  terms  in  which  the  articles  of  belief  are  ex- 
pressed were  devised.  The  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  the  most 
important  dogma  in  the  history  of  the  earlier  as  well  as  the 
later  controversies,  however  it  may  have  been  distinctly  or  in- 
distinctly held  by  the  earlv  Christians,  was  not  clothed  in  a 
definite  terminology  until  the  middle  of  the  second  century, 
when  Theophilus  of  Antioch,  who,  having  been  converted 
from  heathenism  to  Christianity,  became  one  of  the  ablest  de- 


336  MODERN   GREECE. 

fenders  of  the  new  belief  against  the  old,  for  the  first  time 
employed  the  word  Trias.  It  required  the  labors  of  seven 
oecumenical  councils,  running  through  nearly  five  centuries,  to 
work  out  the  formal  statements  of  dogmas  which  were  embod- 
ied in  the  creeds,  and  which  to  this  day  constitute  the  belief 
of  the  Greek  and  Roman  Churches,  and,  with  comparatively 
unimportant  differences,  define  the  leading  points  of  the  belief 
in  a  vast  majority  of  the  Protestant  communions. 

The  three  elementary  forms  of  public  service  —  preaching, 
or  explaining  the  Christian  faith,  singing,  and  prayer  —  were 
certainly  in  use  in  the  days  of  the  Apostles.  But  there  was 
no  written  form  of  liturgy  until  near  the  end  of  the  fourth  cen- 
tury, when  St.  Basil,  Bishop  of  Csesarea,  compiled  a  service, 
which  is  still  used  on  some  occasions  in  the  Greek  Church ; 
and  not  long  afterward  Chrysostom  composed  another,  more 
elaborate  and  ceremonious.  Both  of  these  liturgies  are  supposed 
to  have  undergone  numerous  alterations,  and  to  have  received 
large  additions  after  the  deaths  of  their  compilers.  These 
two,  with  a  third,  called  the  Liturgy  of  the  Presanctified,  — 
from  the  circumstance  of  the  elements  used  on  the  days  to 
which  this  liturgy  was  appointed  having  been  consecrated  on 
the  previous  Sunday,  —  constitute  the  general  liturgy  of  the 
Greek  Church  down  to  the  present  day.  The  period  of  their 
composition  or  compilation  extends  from  the  third  to  the  sev- 
enth or  eighth  century.  The  chanting  of  the  entire  service 
certainly  was  not  practised  in  the  primitive  Church.  Yet  the 
early  Christians  sang  hymns,  which  attracted  the  notice  of 
Pliny,  as  appears  from  his  letter  to  Trajan.  "  They  affirmed," 
says  he,  "  that  their  only  crime  was,  that  they  were  accus- 
tomed to  assemble  on  a  stated  day,  and  to  sing  a  hymn  to 
Christ  as  to  a  god." 

Among  the  works  of  Clemens  of  Alexandria,  towards  the 
end  of  the  second  century,  is  a  very  interesting  composition  in 
three  books,  called  Pcedagogus,  the  object  of  which  is  to  set 
forth  the  process  of  Christian  education  in  a  convert  to  the 
faith.     The  Pcedagogus,  or  guide,  is  Christ,  who,  at  the  con- 


THE   EASTERN   CHURCH.  337 

elusion,  leads  the  initiated  into  the  church  ;  and  there,  as  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  gratitude  due  for  so  signal  a  favor,  a 
hymn  is  sung  in  honor  of  Christ  the  Saviour.  Whether  this 
hymn  is  the  composition  of  Clemens,  or  was  taken  by  him  from 
some  older  collection  of  sacred  poetry  used  in  the  churches,  is 
not  known ;  but  it  undoubtedly  represents  with  sufficient  fidel- 
ity the  general  style  and  character  of  the  earliest  sacred  poetry 
of  the  Christians.  It  is  composed  in  a  light,  irregular  rhythm, 
—  partly,  not  wholly,  anapsestic,  —  and  somewhat  resembling 
the  movement  of  the  pieces  which  pass  under  the  name  of  An- 
acreon.  It  is  mostly  filled  with  ascriptions  of  honor  and  glory 
to  the  Saviour,  and  ejaculations  of  praise,  some  of  which  are 
nobly  conceived,  and  others  can  be  justly  appreciated  only  by 
one  who  can  free  himself  from  the  impressions  and  prejudices 
of  the  moment,  and  transport  himself  into  the  early  and  rap- 
turous days  of  the  primitive  converts.  I  translate  a  few  versea 
literally,  and  Rne  for  line. 

"  Bit  of  untamed  colts, 
Wing  of  unwandering  bird*, 
True  helm  of  infants, 
Shepherd  of  royal  lambs, 
Thy  simple  ones, 
Thy  children,  rouse 
Holily  to  praise, 
To  hymn  sincerely, 
With  lips  of  innocence, 
Christ  the  children's  leader 
King  of  the  saints, 
Thou  all-subduing  Word 
Of  the  Father  Most  High 
Thou  Prince  of  wisdom, 
Support  in  sorrows, 
Joy  of  the  world, 
Of  mortal  race 
Jesus  —  Saviour. 

Footprints  of  Christ, 
Pathway  of  heaven, 
Eternal  Word, 

TOL.    II.  22 


838  MODERN   GREECE. 


Endless  Age, 
Light  everlasting, 
Fountain  of  mercy. 


Let  us  sing  united, 
Let  us  chant  with  simplicity, 
The  mighty  Son. 
A  choir  of  peace, 
Let  us,  the  Christ-born, 
A  people  blameless, 
Praise  in  unison  the  God  of  Pea  je." 
* 

I  had  intended  to  give  a  sketch  of  the  Greek  liturgy  now 
used;  but  when  I  came  to  lay  out  the  subject,  I  found  it 
would  require  about  ten  hours  a  day,  from  now  until  next 
October,  to  convey  an  adequate  notion  of  its  variety  and  ex- 
tent. There  are  services  for  days  and  for  parts  of  days,  for 
fasts  and  festivals,  for  every  conceivable  moment,  occasion, 
and  exigency  in  human  life ;  there  are  prayers,  hymns,  tropa- 
ria,  and  confessions,  more  than  can  be  numbered ;  so  that  it 
was  the  complaint  of  a  member  of  that  Church  that  it  re- 
quired the  labor  of  a  long  life  to  be  able  to  find  his  place  in 
the  services.  At  first,  the  impression  made  upon  the  stranger 
m  a  Greek  church  is  not  very  edifying  or  agreeable.  The 
chanting  of  Scripture,  as  well  as  of  hymns  and  troparia,  and 
the  nasal  intonation,  so  universal,  produce  a  bad  effect.  One 
is  confused  by  the  succession  of  genuflections,  and  the  constant 
changing  of  places  among  the  officiating  priests.  The  use  of 
pictures,  in  the  old  Byzantine  style  of  art,  and  the  reverence 
with  which  they  are  treated,  are  regarded  by  many  as  idola- 
trous. The  answer  of  the  intelligent  Greeks  is,  however, 
ready,  —  that  the  reverence  paid  to  a  saint,  and  expressed  in 
the  act  of  homage  to  his  picture,  is  hot  worship,  but  a  natural 
and  reasonable  reverence,  totally  different  from  the  adoration 
due  to  the  Creator.  Most  of  the  pictures  that  I  saw  bore  so 
tittle  resemblance  to  anything  in  heaven  or  earth  or  in  the  wa 
ters  under  the  earth,  that  it  seemed  scarcely  possible  to  regard 
obeisance  to  them  as  violating  the  second  commandment   of 


THE   EASTERN   CHURCH.  339 

the  Decalogue.  The  dramatic  character  of  the  representation 
becomes,  with  a  little  time  and  use,  not  only  significant,  but  im- 
pressive ;  while  the  earnest  demeanor  generally  characteristic 
of  the  worshipping  assemblies  cannot  but  fill  even  a  Protestant 
spectator  with  respect.  Some  of  the  services  are  marked  by 
a  solemnity  and  grandeur  not  to  be  easily  forgotten.  The 
burial  service,  at  which  I  was  present  more  frequently  than 
at  any  other  part  of  the  ritual,  seemed  to  me  more  appro- 
priate and  affecting,  more  deeply  expressive  of  the  awful  and 
tender  feelings  which  crowd  upon  the  heart  at  the  moment  of 
final  separation  from  those  who  have  been  with  us  in  life, 
than  any  form  I  have  witnessed  anywhere  else  in  the 
world. 

There  are  many  things  in  the  Greek  ritual  undoubtedly 
objectionable  to  one  who  thinks  more  of  substance  than  of 
form ;  but  the  substance  is  there  too,  and  it  has  come  down 
from  early,  though  not  the  earliest  times.  It  was  framed  by  the 
most  eminent  Christian  fathers,  and  in  the  language  spoken  by 
the  Apostles.  Such  a  liturgy,  with  such  claims  upon  our  rev- 
erence, and  at  this  moment  constituting  the  religious  manual 
of  seventy  millions  of  souls,  we  should  be  slow  to  condemn  as 
dolatrous. 


LECTURE    V. 

THE   BYZANTINE   EMPIRE.  — THE   LATIN   EMPERORS.  —  THE 
DUKES   OF   ATHENS. 

Constantine  removed  the  seat  of  empire  from  Rome  to 
Constantinople,  and  inaugurated  the  latter  city  with  great 
pomp  and  ceremony,  in  A.  D.  330.  For  thirty-four  years  the 
newly  founded  capital  was  the  sole  seat  of  government  in  the 
Roman  world,  down  to  the  death  of  Jovian.  For  one  hundred 
and  twelve  years  the  Empire  was  double-headed,  —  the  Eastern 
Empire  having  its  centre  of  administration  at  Constantinople, 
and  the  Western  at  Rome,  until  Romulus  Augustulus  closed 
his  inglorious  reign,  and  with  it  the  Western  Roman  Empire, 
in  A.  D.  476.  From  this  time  the  Roman  Empire  was  the 
Eastern  Empire,  living  on  under  the  Roman  organization  and 
Roman  law,  and  claiming  to  be  Roman  in  all  essential  respects, 
under  a  series  of  twenty-eight  Emperors,  until  the  accession 
of  Leo  III.,  commonly  called  the  Isaurian,  who  ascended  the 
throne  in  the  year  717,  and  reigned  twenty-four  years.  With 
the  reign  of  this  reforming  Emperor,  the  old  Roman  spirit  of 
the  administration  was  extinguished,  and  the  proper  Byzantine 
Deriod  commences.  From  the  close  of  this  reign,  in  741,  to  the 
onquest  of  Constantinople  by  the  Western  princes,  or  the  ter- 
mination of  the  reign  of  Alexius  Ducas,  in  1204,  forty-three 
rulers,  including  three  Empresses,  —  Irene,  Zoe,  and  Theodora, 
—  held  the  reins  of  government,  for  a  period  of  four  hundred 
and  sixty-three  years.  The  Latin  Emperors,  five  in  number, 
occupied  the  throne  of  Constantinople  for  fifty-seven  years 
only ;  when,  in  1261,  the  line  of  Greek  Empercrs  was  restored, 
in  the  person  of  Michael  Palaeologus.     Nine  Emperors  in  sue- 


THE  BYZANTINE  EMPIRE.  341 

cession  (all  except  one  —  Joannes  Cantacuzenus  —  belonging 
to  the  family  of  Palseologi)  filled  the  period  down  to  the  reign 
of  Constantine  XIII.,  the  last  of  the  Palaeologi,  who  closed 
his  reign  and  his  life  with  the  fall  of  the  Byzantine  Empire 
in  1453,  when  Mahomet  II.,  entering  the  city  of  Constanti- 
nople over  the  body  of  the  slaughtered  Emperor,  planted  the 
crescent  on  the  dome  of  St.  Sophia.  For  the  long  period 
of  more  than  eleven  centuries  Constantinople  had  been  the 
great  Christian  capital  of  the  East ;  and  now,  for  four  hundred 
years,  mosque,  minaret,  and  crescent  have  supplanted  the  em- 
blems of  the  Christian  faith,  and  the  Patriarch  of  the  Ortho- 
dox Eastern  Church  has  depended,  for  his  confirmation  upon 
the  episcopal  throne  of  the  ancient  capital  of  his  religion,  on 
the  despotic  will  of  the  follower  of  Mahomet  the  Impostor. 
The  ancient  city  of  Byzantium  was  founded  by  Megarian 
colonists,  in  the  seventh  century  before  Christ.  It  was  built 
on  a  promontory  facing  the  waters  of  the  Bosporus  and  the 
shores  of  Asia ;  and  certainly  no  city  in  the  world  can  surpass 
it  in  the  beauty  of  its  position,  its  facilities  for  commerce,  or 
the  picturesqueness  of  the  scenery  that  surrounds  it.  It  is 
washed  on  the  east  by  the  Bosporus,  on  the  north  by  the 
Golden  Horn,  which  derived  its  name  from  the  rich  traffic 
supplied  by  the  fisheries  at  a  very  early  period.  The  harbor 
is  seven  miles  in  length,  and  the  water,  scarcely  affected  by 
tides,  is  deep  enough  to  float  vessels  of  the  largest  size.  It 
was,  and  is,  the  key  to  the  Euxine  and  the  ^Egean  Seas,  and 
its  possession  was  an  object  of  eager  rivalry  among  the  most 
powerful  nations  of  antiquity.  Philip  of  Macedonia,  no  less 
than  Nicholas  of  Russia,  made  every  effort  to  bring  it  under 
his  power,  and  was  prevented  only  by  the  energetic  resistance 
of  Demosthenes,  for  which  the  people  of  Byzantium  decreed, 
in  honor  of  the  Athenians,  a  statue  and  a  golden  crown.  In 
the  wars  of  the  Romans,  Byzantium  suffered  her  full  share  of 
disasters,  in  sieges,  slaughters,  demolition  of  her  walls,  and 
changes  of  her  political  institutions.  But  the  inhabitants  of 
this  half-Oriental  city  appear  to  have  enjoyed  no  very  high 


342  MODERN  GREECE. 

reputation  for  morals  or  valor.  They  are  represented  as  pass- 
ing their  time  in  idle  gossip,  tippling  wine  in  taverns,  and  so 
inordinately  addicted  to  tunny-fish  that  their  whole  bodies  be- 
came mucilaginous  and  glutinous.  One  of  the  Byzantine  dem- 
agogues, when  asked  what  the  law  enjoined,  replied,  "  What- 
ever I  please,"  —  words  that  contain  the  germ  of  a  celebrated 
modern  theory. 

When  Constantine  determined  to  place  his  new  capital  in 
this  city,  he  greatly  enlarged  its  boundaries,  and,  to  make  it  in 
all  respects  another  Rome,  took  in  the  seven  hills,  which  rise 
one  above  another,  and  are  covered  by  the  city.  From  his 
time  it  has  borne  the  name  of  Constantinopolis  —  Constantino- 
ple —  in  the  languages  of  Europe,  Constanyi  in  the  Arabic, 
and  in  the  Turkish,  Stamboul,  which  is  formed  from  the  Greek 
words  et?  ttjv  ttoXiv,  into  or  in  the  city.  The  line  of  the  walls 
across  the  peninsula  was  marked  by  the  Emperor  at  the  head 
of  a  procession.  A  splendid  exhibition  of  chariot  games  was 
given  in  the  hippodrome,  after  which  the  Emperor  was  drawn 
in  a  magnificent  car  through  the  city,  bearing  a  golden  statue 
of  Fortune  in  his  hand,  surrounded  by  his  guards  arrayed 
in  festal  robes,  and  carrying  lighted  torches.  The  ceremo- 
nies of  inauguration  lasted  forty  days.  The  walls  were  not 
completed  until  the  reign  of  Constantius ;  they  were  over- 
thrown by  an  earthquake  at  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century ; 
and  the  dilapidated  walls  which  still  exist,  running  from  the 
Sea  of  Marmora  to  the  harbor,  are  the  remains  of  the  double 
line  reconstructed  in  447,  with  rectangular  flanking  towers  at 
short  intervals.  The  circuit  of  the  city  was  about  thirteen 
miles.  In  this  new  capital,  and  under  the  influences  of  Ori- 
entalism, easily  traceable  at  all  times  in  the  history  of  the  city, 
a  new  style  of  architecture  arose,  of  which  the  cupola  was  the 
most  characteristic  feature.  Fourteen  churches,  fourteen  pal' 
aces,  several  arches,  and  eight  public  baths  were  built  by  the 
founder.  The  ancient  Temple  of  Peace  was  changed  into 
the  first  Church  of  St.  Sophia,  and  the  Church  of  the  Twelve 
Apostles  was  completed  shortly  before  the  death  of  Constan- 


THE  BYZANTINE  EMPIRE.  343 

tine.  In  the  reign  of  Theodosius  II.,  painting,  sculpture, 
and  architecture  were  encouraged;  and  in  the  reign  of  Jus- 
tinian, the  Byzantine  arts  reached  their  highest  degree  of 
development.  The  Church  of  St.  Sophia,  which  had  been 
twice  destroyed  by  fire,  was  rebuilt  with  increased  magnifi- 
cence, and  stands  to  this  day  the  most  extraordinary  specimen 
of  Byzantine  architecture.  Among  the  great  works  of  the 
Greek  Emperors,  still  in  part  remaining,  are  two  subterranean 
structures,  intended  as  reservoirs  for  water  in  case  of  siege,  — 
one  now  called,  from  its  extensive  colonnades,  the  "Palace  of 
the  Thousand  and  one  Pillars,"  but  no  longer  used  for  its  original 
purpose  :  the  other  called  the  "  Subterranean  Palace,"  a  kind 
of  lake  with  an  arched  roof,  supported  by  three  hundred  and 
thirty-six  marble  pillars.  The  Hippodrome,  which  was  origi- 
nally surrounded  by  splendid  buildings  and  crowded  with 
statues  and  obelisks,  is  now  only  an  open  space,  with  a  single 
obelisk  covered  with  hieroglyphics,  and  a  wreathed  column 
of  bronze,  which  in  ancient  times  bore  the  golden  tripod  at 
Delphi,  and  was  afterwards  transported  to  Constantinople. 
The  place  is  called  the  At  Midan,  and  is  memorable  in  recent 
history  for  the  slaughter  of  the  janizaries,  whose  quarters  were 
in  buildings  contiguous  to  it.  These  few  monuments  are  al- 
most all  that  remain  of  the  ancient  Constantinople.  The  pres- 
ent city,  though  occupying  the  same  site  and  enclosing  these 
monuments  within  its  circuit,  is  in  all  its  characteristic  features 
a  Turkish  or  Oriental  town.  Constantinople  underwent  many 
sieges,  and  was  several  times  captured  during  the  Byzantine 
period,  and  before  its  occupation  by  the  Latin  Emperors. 
From  616  to  626  Chosroes  lay  before  it  with  his  Persian  and 
Avar  host.  The  Arabs  laid  siege  to  it  for  the  first  time  in  the 
last  half  of  the  same  century,  but  were  baffled  by  the  strength 
of  the  walls,  and  the  terrific  and  destructive  effect  of  the  Greek 
fire,  which  is  said  to  have  caused  the  slaughter  of  thirty  thou- 
sand men.  In  the  beginning  of  the  next  century,  they  made 
a  second  attempt,  with  no  better  fortune.  The  Russians  had 
their  eye  upon  Constantinople  much  earlier  than  the  reign  of 


844  MODERN   GREECE. 

Catharine.  Between  865  and  1043,  they  made  four  expedi- 
tions, in  the  hope  of  gaining  possession  of  the  capital,  but  with- 
out success.  In  1204,  as  I  have  already  stated  in  speaking  of 
the  great  historical  crises  of  the  Empire,  the  Latins  stormed 
and  pillaged  the  imperial  city.  In  1422  it  was  besieged  by 
Amurath  II.,  and  finally  captured,  in  1453,  by  Mahomet  II. 
What  is  to  be  the  next  turn  for  the  wheel  of  its  fortunes  will 
perhaps  be  decided  before  many  months  have  passed. 

The  extracts  read,  in  the  last  Lecture,  from  the  Homilies  of 
St.  Chrysostom,  will  have  given  some  characteristic  features 
of  Byzantine  society  in  its  earlier  periods.  I  have  only  a  few 
more  observations  to  make  on  this  subject.  Speaking  in  general 
terms,  the  government  was  a  despotism,  the  Emperors  desig- 
nating their  successors,  subject  to  the  formal  approbation  of  a 
shadowy  Senate.  Says  an  able  writer :  "  The  despotism  of  the 
court  of  Constantinople  could  not  endure  even  the  forms  of 
free  institutions.  The  Caesar  of  the  East  was  the  counterpart 
of  his  Moslem  conqueror ;  and  the  change  from  the  Proto- 
Sebastos  would  have  been  one  simply  of  name,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  superior  energy  of  the  first  Osmanli  princes.  The  one, 
like  the  other,  had  his  viziers,  his  janizaries,  his  slaves,  tyran- 
nizing over  prince  and  people.  Through  the  dreary  monotony 
of  the  history  of  the  Eastern  Empire,  so  deficient  in  moral  and 
political  interest,  there  are  always  coming  into  view  the  char- 
acteristic features  of  Asiatic  tyranny,  —  the  domestic  treason, 

—  the  prince  born  in  the  purple,  —  the  unnatural  queen- 
mother,  —  the  son  or  the  brothers  murdered  or  blinded,  —  the 
sudden  revolutions  of  the  throne,  —  the  deposition  of  the  sov- 
ereign, but  the  government  remaining  the  same, — and  the 
people  careless  as  to  who  or  what  their  tyrant  might  be.  Ev- 
erything by  which  a  people  can  outwardly  show  what  is  within 

—  litei-ature,  art,  and  architecture  —  displays  the  influence  of 
the  East ;  —  the  literature  learned,  artificial,  florid,  but  defi- 
cient in  elegance  and  grace,  and  without  a  spark  to  illuminate 
it ;  the  art  but  the  figure  of  their  ceremonial  life,  deficient  in 
all  deep  and  sincere  feeling,  and  showing,  under  the  hardness 


THE  BYZANTINE   EMPIRE.  345 

of  the  shape  and  the  sameness  of  the  expression,  the  dull  and 
slavish  constraint  to  which  it  was  subject." 

All  this  is  undoubtedly"  true  ;  and  yet  a  taste  for  Byzantine  art 
spread  throughout  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages.  The  most  gor- 
geous monuments,  which  lend  a  never-failing  interest  to  the 
dying  beauty  of  the  Queen  of  the  Adriatic,  betray  the  over- 
ruling influence  of  Constantinople,  which  had  fallen  before  the 
untamed  spirit  of  the  blind  old  Dandolo.  The  system  of  the  ad- 
ministration was  so  strongly  put  together,  that  the  government 
went  on,  with  something  of  its  ancient  power,  —  though  its  peo- 
ple were  wasting  away,  and  its  destruction  was  slowly  and  sure- 
ly approaching, —  long  after  the  Western  Empire  had  fallen 
in  pieces ;  and  the  term  of  its  existence  was  longer  than  that 
for  which  any  other  government  has  yet  lasted.  It  is  a  strik- 
ing fact,  noticed  by  Mr.  Finlay,  that  though  ancient  Byzantium 
was  laughed  at  by  the  comic  poets  of  Athens  for  its  iron  coins, 
yet  the  currency  of  the  Byzantine  Empire  —  especially  the 
gold  coins,  of  which  a  large  number  have  been  preserved,  and 
some  are  still  occasionally  found  in  Greece  —  was  the  purest 
then  known  in  the  world,  passed  everywhere  in  commerce, 
and  through  all  the  mutations  in  the  fortunes  of  the  Empire 
remained  unchanged  to  the  last. 

Another  remarkable  feature  of  the  Byzantine  Empire  was  the 
position  held  by  women,  and  the  pains  taken  with  female  educa- 
tion, notwithstanding  the  satirical  innuendoes  of  Chrysostom. 
Of  course,  beauty  and  stature  were  much  thought  of  there,  in 
the  appreciation  of  female  charms.  Full,  dark,  and  liquid  eyes, 
a  straight  and  exquisitely  chiselled  nose,  and  beautifully  ar- 
ranged teeth,  were  perhaps  as  irresistible  then  as  now;  but  the 
owners  of  these  charms  were  not  allowed  to  turn  them  to  any 
account  at  the  most  important  period,  and  in  deciding  the  most 
important  question  a  young  lady  is  ever  called  upon  to  consider. 
The  arrangement  of  marriage  was  made  wholly  by  the  parents 
and  friends  of  the  parties,  who  seldom  even  saw  each  other, 
until  the  indissoluble  knot  was  tied.  The  contract  was  ratified 
both  by  civil  and  religious  ceremonies.     The  priest  joined  the 


346  MODERN   GREECE. 

hands  of  the  parties  at  the  bride's  home,  and  on  the  following 
day  the  bride,  thickly  bedaubed  with  paint,  and  loaded  with 
ornaments,  not  only  from  her  own  wardrobe,  but  from  those 
of  her  friends,  was  taken  from  the  paternal  dwelling,  where, 
up  to  that  moment,  she  had  lived  in  strict  seclusion,  and  con- 
ducted to  the  home  of  the  bridegroom,  attended  by  lamps  and 
torches,  with  singers,  dancers,  and  revellers,  making  night  hide- 
ous by  their  scurrility  and  buffoonery.  At  the  end  of  a  week 
the  borrowed  ornaments  had  to  be  restored  :  the  tumult  and 
festivities  were  over,  and  she,  who  before  her  marriage  had 
been  little  better  than  a  prisoner  in  her  father's  house,  enjoyed 
a  degree  of  liberty  and  authority  at  home  and  abroad  which 
is  scarcely  exceeded  by  that  of  women  even  in  the  present 
enlightened  age.  It  is  stated  by  the  historians,  that,  in  many 
cases,  the  Byzantine  women  were  educated  better  than  the 
men.  The  ancient  Greek  language  was  assiduously  cultivated 
by  the  ladies  of  the  upper  classes  ;  and  we  have  more  than 
one  authority  for  asserting  that,  down  to  the  latest  period  of 
the  Byzantine  Empire,  this  language  was  spoken  and  written 
by  them  with  almost  undiminished  propriety  and  elegance. 
The  instance  of  Anna  Comnena,  of  whom  I  shall  say  a  few 
words  by  and  by,  is  a  case  in  point.  Her  history  of  her 
father's  reign  maintains  a  very  respectable  place  among  the 
Byzantine  historians,  and  she  lived  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
eleventh  and  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  century. 

The  education  of  boys  at  day-schools  commenced  about  the 
fifth  year.  Reading,  spelling,  the  recitation  of  passages  from 
approved  authors,  writing,  arithmetic,  and  geometry  filled  the 
years  up  to  about  fifteen,  after  which  they  completed  their 
studies  at  the  University  of  Constantinople,  at  Alexandria,  Be- 
rytus,  or  Tarsus,  or  at  Athens,  so  long  as  the  schools  in  that 
capital  existed.  'The  Logic  of  Aristotle — an  excellent  text-book 
—  was  in  common  use,  though,  in  general,  the  writings  of  the 
great  Stageirite  were  found  too  hard  and  dry  for  the  tender  in- 
tellects of  the  Byzantine  youth.  The  eloquence  of  Plato  made 
him,  naturally,  a  greater  favorite  with  the  studiosa  juventus. 


THE   BYZANTINE   EMPIRE.  347 

The  professions  of  law  and  medicine  were  well  provided  for. 
Berytus,  near  which  the  combat  took  place  between  St.  George 
and  the  Dragon,  was,  from  the  third  to  the  middle  of  the  sixth 
century,  the  seat  of  the  most  celebrated  School  of  Law,  and 
was  called  by  Nonnus  "the  source  of  tranquil  life."  The 
chief  medical  school  was  at  Alexandria.  Frequently  young 
men  were  sent  to  Rome  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  Latin 
language  and  literature,  which  was  quite  necessary  for  success 
at  court,  so  long  as  the  Roman  traditions  prevailed  there.  In 
the  words  of  an  able  writer  in  the  London  Quarterly  Review, 
"  The  student  was  required  to  bring  with  him  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction from  the  governor  of  his  province,  stating  his  birth- 
place, parentage,  and  rank.  On  his  arrival  this  letter  was  pre- 
sented to  the  master  of  the  census,  a  police  magistrate  under 
the  Prefectus  Urbis,  who  exercised  something  of  a  proctorial 
authority.  In  his  presence,  the  youth  professed  or  announced 
the  course  of  study  he  intended  to  pursue.  His  lodgings,  or 
place  of  residence,  must  be  signified  to  the  same  authority, '  that 
his  diligent  attention  to  his  studies  might  be  readily  ascertained.' 
The  same  inspection  extended  to  his  general  habits  and  associ- 
ations, particularly  that  he  did  not  too  much  frequent  public 
amusements  or  disorderly  parties.  A  resolute  offender,  whose 
conduct  proved  unworthy  of  the  liberal  arts,  was  subject  to 
very  summary  treatment :  he  is  to  be  publicly  whipped,  put  on 
board  ship,  and  dismissed  to  his  friends."  Such  is  the  edict  in 
the  Theodosian  Code.  The  proceeding  is  not  unlike  the  cere- 
mony once  performed  in  our  College  Library  at  Cambridge, 
when  a  student,  having  been  detected  in  some  enormity,  was 
called  up  before  the  assembled  dignitaries,  and  after  prayer  by 
the  President,  and,  I  believe,  the  singing  of  a  psalm,  soundly 
Hogged  by  the  beadle.  Monthly  returns  appear  to  have  been 
made  to  the  Emperor,  that  he  might  ascertain  the  respective 
merits  and  pursuits  of  tne  pupils,  and  whether  they  could  be 
made  available  for  the  public  service. 

But  the  peculiar  Greek  education  was  that  which  was  to  be 
had  at  Athens.    The  raen  of  letters  here  bore,  as  in  the  earlier 


348  MODERN   GREECE. 

times,  the  general  designation  of  Sophists ;  and  the  young  men 
were  frantic  with  enthusiasm  for  their  favorites  among  that 
learned  body.  The  moment  a  new-comer  arrived  at  the 
Peiraeus  with  his  bed  and  bedding,  he  was  seized  upon  by* 
some  heated  partisan,  and  dragged  to  this  or  that  philosopher. 
He  was  attacked  by  the  older  students  —  sophomores,  per- 
haps —  with  all  sorts  of  quizzing  questions,  to  try  his  mettle. 
Then  he  was  led  through  the  Agora  to  the  bath  by  these  uproar 
ious  sophisters  in  double  file,  shouting  and  leaping  like  mad- 
men. Where  the  tutors  and  proctors  were  all  this  while,  we 
are  not  told.  Arriving  at  the  bath,  he  was  ordered  to  stop  ; 
the  doors  were  battered  with  prodigious  clattering ;  and  when, 
at  length,  they  gave  way,  the  new-comer  was  admitted  a  fully 
qualified  member  of  the  academic  body  at  Athens.  There 
was  much  that  was  most  delightful  in  a  residence  at  Athens, 
and  we  can  fully  understand  and  sympathize  with  what  Greg- 
ory of  Nazianzus  says  of  the  parting  scene  between  him  and 
Basil,  who,  with  other  young  men  of  congenial  tastes,  had 
formed  a  society  there,  which  bound  them  together  by  the  ties 
of  literary  intercourse,  a  common  Christian  faith,  and  devotion 
to  a  Christian  life.  "  The  day  of  our  departure,  and  all  the 
circumstances  of  departure  arrived,  —  the  farewell  words,  the 
attendance  to  our  ship,  the  last  messages,  the  lamentations, 
embraces,  tears.  Nothing  is  so  painful  as  for  friends  to  be 
severe-  from  Athens  and  from  each  other.  Our  compan- 
ions and  some  of  the  professors  surrounded  us,  and  entreated 
that  we  would  desist  from  our  design.  With  Basil  it  was  in 
effectual,  and  he  departed  ;  while  I,  who  felt  cut  asunder  by 
the  separation,  speedily  followed  him." 

The  position  of  physicians  in  the  Eastern  Empire  was  mos' 
nonorable  ;  and  I  believe  it  has  continued  so  down  through 
the  Turkish  times.  The  dignity  of  senator,  and  even  the  gov 
ernment  of  provinces,  were  often  conferred  on  eminent  practi- 
tioners. To  each  division  of  the  city  an  arch-iatros — chief  phy- 
sician —  was  appointed  by  election  of  his  coadjutors,  subject  to 
the  confirmation  of  the  Emperor  ;  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor,  he 


THE  BYZANTINE  EMPIRE.  349 

was  paid  a  salary  from  the  public  treasury ;  and  it  was  provided 
that  these  public  physicians  should,  in  their  general  practice, 
receive  only  such  an  amount,  by  way  of  fees,  as  the  patient 
judged  right  when  convalescent,  not  what  he  offered  under  the 
terrors  of  sickness.  What  was  done  if  the  patient  died,  we  are 
not  told.  These  arrangements  seem  to  have  been  borrowed 
from  the  ancient  customs  of  the  Athenians,  and  perhaps  of 
other  Greek  states ;  for  we  find  in  Plato  allusions  to  the  elec- 
tion of  a  public  board  of  physicians. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  in  the  most  flourishing  period  of  the 
Eastern  Empire  the  great  institutions  for  literary  and  profes- 
sional education  existed  on  a  very  respectable  scale.  Law, 
medicine,  and  letters  had  their  special  establishments,  amply 
furnished  with  men  and  resources,  to  teach  publicly  or  privately 
all  the  science  of  the  age.  Divinity  was  not  provided  for  in 
the  same  way ;  but  the  great  preachers  and  dignitaries  of  the 
Church  superintended  and  directed  the  preparation  of  young 
men  for  the  performance  of  public  religious  services,  when  their 
literary  and  rhetorical  studies  were  completed.  These  few 
outlines  present  the  subject  of  Byzantine  education  in  its  best 
estate.  With  the  progress  of  time,  the  decay  of  wealth,  the 
increasing  corruption  of  public  morals,  and  the  deepening  of 
the  darkness  of  ignorance  which  gradually  descended  upon  the 
world,  education  also  declined  ;  though,  as  I  have  already  said, 
there  were  men  and  women  of  the  nobler  families,  down  to  the 
last  days  of  Byzantium,  who  kept  the  lamp  of  learning  trimmed 
und  burning  through  the  darkest  of  the  dark  ages. 

The  government  of  Greece  continued,  long  after  the  impe- 
rial throne  was  established  at  Constantinople,  to  retain  the  pro- 
consular form,  and  the  name  of  the  proconsulate,  Achaia  ;  but 
in  the  time  of  Constantine  IV.,  or  perhaps  a  little  later,  in  the 
reign  of  Heraclius,  —  for  the  details  of  the  changes  brought 
about  by  the  dangers  threatened  from  the  Barbarians  are 
extremely  obscure,  —  the  Empire  was  redivided  and  territori- 
ally reorganized  into  departments  called  Themata,  or  Themes, 
The  word  is  not  used  in  this  sense  until  the  Byzantine  times 


350  MODERN   GREECE. 

In  the  eighth  century  the  office  of  proconsul,  except  as  a  mere 
titular  dignity,  was  abandoned.  The  connection  between  the 
Constantinopolitan  court  and  the  Greek  people  was  made  closer 
by  religious  as  well  as  by  political  feelings,  by  the  use  of  the 
Greek  language  in  the  administration,  by  the  established  pre- 
dominance of  the  Orthodox  Greek  Church,  and,  finally,  by  the 
severance  of  those  provinces  which  possessed  a  native  popula- 
tion distinct  from  the  Greeks  in  language,  literature,  and 
religion,  through  the  conquests  of  the  Saracens.  The  Themes 
of  Greece  proper  —  or  the  western  part  of  the  Empire  — 
were  Peloponnesus,  Hellas,  Nicopolis,  Dyrrachium,  Thessaly, 
the  Theme  of  the  jEgean  Sea,  and  Cephallenia.  Each  of 
these  Themes  was  under  the  authority  of  a  ruler  called  Stra- 
tegos,  or  commander,  whose  powers  were  very  comprehensive, 
embracing  both  military  and  civil  functions ;  but  in  the  main, 
as  the  title  shows,  the  office  would  seem  to  have  been  military. 
These  Strategoi  formed  the  first  of  the  seven  orders,  or  classes, 
into  which  those  were  divided  who  were  appointed  directly  by 
imperial  nomination  to  the  higher  offices  of  the  state.  These 
great  officers  were  not,  however,  of  equal  rank ;  but  what  cir- 
cumstances made  a  difference  of  dignity  I  do  not  find  any- 
where explained.  The  whole  number,  at  one  time  at  least, 
was  twenty-nine.  The  Strategos  of  Hellas  is  mentioned  as  the 
twenty-second,  and  the  Strategos  of  the  jEgean  Sea  as  the 
twenty-ninth.  There  was  another  class  of  military  officers 
called  Kleisourarchai,  or  commanders  of  the  passes.  In  Greece 
there  was  the  Kleisourarch  of  Larissa,  and  I  believe  he  is 
the  only  one  mentioned  as  belonging  to  that  country  ;  for  the 
Strategoi,  or  high  military  commanders,  it  is  expressly  stated, 
had  charge  of  the  Strait  of  Thermopylae,  the  Isthmus  of 
Corinth,  the  mountain-passes  into  Attica,  and  those  in  the 
Peloponnesus.  With  these  military  rulers  was  associated  an- 
other official  personage,  called  the  "  Judge  of  Hellas,"  who  not 
only  had  the  superintendence  of  the  administration  of  justice, 
but  was  charged  with  the  general  oversight  of  the  taxes  an.. 
Dther  public  burdens  laid  upon  the  several  Themes. 


THE   BYZANTINE   EMPIRE.  351 

At  the  beginning  of  the  tenth  century,  when  the  Emperor 
Leo  VI.,  called  the  Wise,  ied  a  great  expedition  against  the 
Sai'acens  in  Crete,  the  Theme  of  the  jEgean  Sea  furnished  four 
thousand  mariners,  forty-one  hundred  land  troops,  and  fourteen 
ships  of  different  sizes;  the  Theme  of  Hellas  furnished  ten 
ships,  each  carrying  three  hundred  men,  besides  a  large  supply 
of  arms,  including  four  thousand  javelins  and  two  hundred 
thousand  arrows ;  and  other  Themes  in  a  like  proportion. 
The  statement  is  a  curious  one,  because  it  indicates  a  much 
higher  degree  of  wealth  than  is  usually  supposed  to  have  been 
possessed  by  Greece  in  that  century.  It  is  further  stated,  that 
the  metropolitans  of  Corinth  and  Patrae  furnished  four  horses 
each ;  each  ordinary  bishop,  two ;  and  the  imperial  or  patri- 
archal cloisters,  as  also  those  belonging  to  the  archbishoprics, 
to  the  metropolitan  churches,  and  to  the  bishoprics,  two  each. 
The  exempts  are  also  specified,  —  certain  persons  in  the  im- 
perial service,  such  as  purple-fishers  and  makers  of  parchment. 
Many  other  similar  particulars  are  given  by  Constantine  Por- 
phyrogenitus  ;  but  as  my  purpose  is  merely  to  sketch  the  state 
of  things  in  a  brief  and  general  manner,  these  facts  will  perhaps 
suffice  to  show,  what  is  expressly  stated  by  some  of  the  By- 
zantine historians,  that  a  period  of  comparative  prosperity  fol- 
lowed the  close  of  the  Slavonic  period  in  Greece,  which  enabled 
her  to  offer  a  more  efficient  resistance  to  the  assaults  of  the 
Saracens,  in  the  ninth  and  tenth  centuries,  than  was  made  by 
any  other  insular  or  maritime  power  round  the  Mediterranean 
Sea. 

The  Byzantine  Empire  and  some  of  the  states  of  Western 
Europe  had  already  suffered  from  the  Saracenic  invasions ;  Asia 
Minor  had  been  ravaged  up  to  the  shores  of  the  Bosporus ;  the 
armies  assembled  to  encounter  them  had  broken  out  into  open 
rebellion  ;  and  six  Emperors  had  been  dethroned  in  twenty-one 
Tears,  when  Leo  the  Isaurian,  the  great  reforming  Emperor  of 
the  eighth  century,  was  crowned  by  the  Patriarch  in  the  Church 
of  St.  Sophia,  on  the  25th  of  March,  717.  The  activity  and  en- 
ergy of  this  monarch  soon  repelled  the  armies  of  the  Khaliff;. 


352  MODERN   GREECE. 

But  his  next  enterprise  was  one  of  more  difficult  achieve- 
ment. The  use  of  pictures  and  images,  unknown  in  the  primi- 
tive Church,  had  by  degrees  become  universal  in  the  Eastern 
world  ;  and  the  acts  of  devotion  performed  by  the  illiterate 
before  them  were  considered  by  thoughtful  minds  as  a  danger- 
ous diversion  of  the  feelings  from  the  worship  of  the  true  God. 
Among  other  causes  which  had  diffused  this  view  may  be  men- 
tioned the  prodigious  growth  of  the  Mahometan  imposture,  and 
the  contrast  between  the  stern  simplicity  of  the  conception  of 
the  Deity  among  the  followers  of  the  Arabian  prophet  and  the 
apparently  idolatrous  practices  of  the  Orthodox  Oriental  Church. 
Leo  the  Isaurian  took  this  view,  though  not  in  the  slightest  de- 
gree deviating  from  rigid  orthodoxy,  as  to  dogmas  which  the 
oecumenical  councils  had  established.  He  engaged  in  a  war- 
fare against  image-worship,  resolved  to  put  it  down  by  the 
whole  force  of  the  imperial  power.  The  contest  lasted  through 
the  lives  of  the  Emperor  and  of  ten  of  his  successors.  It  in- 
volved a  fierce  controversy  with  the  Latin  Church,  and  finally 
the  separation  between  the  two.  The  feelings  of  the  people 
were  strongly  in  favor  of  image-worship  ;  the  majority  of  the 
clergy  went  with  the  people  ;  and  though  two  councils  declared 
the  practice  idolatrous,  and  excommunicated  those  who  upheld  it, 
driving  many  of  the  clergy  into  banishment,  yet  the  iconoclasts, 
after  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  of  conflict,  were  finally,  in  the 
middle  of  the  ninth  century,  obliged  to  retire  from  the  field. 

The  result  is  thus  summarily  stated  by  Mr.  Finlay :  "  Every 
rank  of  society  at  last  proclaimed  that  it  was  weary  of  religious 
discussion  and  domestic  strife.  Indifference  to  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal questions  so  long  predominant  produced  indifference  to  re- 
ligion itself,  and  the  power  of  conscience  became  dormant ; 
enjoyment  was  soon  considered  the  object  of  life  ;  and  vice, 
under  the  name  of  pleasure,  became  the  fashion  of  the  day. 
In  this  state  of  society  superstition  was  sure  to  be  more  pow- 
erful than  religion.  It  was  easier  to  pay  adoration  to  a  picture, 
to  reverence  a  relic,  to  observe  a  ceremony,  than  to  regulato 
Mie's  conduct  in  life  by  the  principles  of    morality  and  the 


THE   BYZANTINE   EMPIRE.  353 

doctrines  of  religion.  Pictures,  images,  relies,  and  ceremonies 
became,  consequently,  the  great  objects  of  veneration.  The 
Greek  population  of  the  Empire  had  identified  its  national 
feelings  with  traditional  usages,  rather  than  with  Christian 
doctrines  ;  and  its  opposition  to  the  Asiatic  puritanism  of  the 
Isaurian,  Armenian,  and  Amorian  Emperors  ingrafted  the  rev- 
erence for  relics,  the  adoration  of  pictures,  and  the  worship  of 
saints  into  the  religious  fabric  of  the  Eastern  Church,  as  es- 
sentials of  Christian  worship.  Whatever  the  Church  has  gained 
in  this  way,  in  the  amount  of  popular  devotion,  seems  to  have 
been  lost  to  popular  morality." 

However  this  may  have  been,  it  seems  clear  that  Christiani- 
ty paved  the  way  for  those  legal  and  moral  reforms  —  initiated 
by  Leo  the  Isaurian,  and  carried  throughout  the  Empire  in 
his  and  the  succeeding  reigns  —  which  distinguish  what  has 
been  termed  the  iconoclastic  or  image-breaking  period  of  By- 
zantine history.  Private  life  in  the  Byzantine  Empire,  at  this 
period,  compared  with  the  state  of  morals  among  the  Arabs 
and  Saracens  in  the  East,  or  the  Franks  in  the  West,  appears 
to  great  advantage.  The  religion  of  Mahomet  was,  in  many 
respects,  better  than  the  barbarous,  cruel,  bloody,  and  licen- 
tious rites  that  prevailed  among  the  Arabs  before  his  time. 
But  that  religion  taught  the  duty  of  conquering  unbelievers  by 
the  sword,  and  in  the  family  it  established  polygamy,  with 
its  accompanying  vices  and  horrors,  throughout  the  East : 
while  in  the  West,  we  find  the  conquering  nations  oppressing 
their  subject  nations,  wholly  regardless  of  the  demands  of  jus- 
tice, and  even  such  rulers  as  Charles  Martel,  Pepin,  and  Char- 
lemagne exhibiting  in  their  private  lives  the  most  shameless 
profligacy.  The  establishment  of  numerous  hospitals  and  oth- 
er charitable  institutions,  the  improvement  of  the  condition  of 
daves,  the  partial  suppression  of  the  slave-trade,  the  substitution 
of  the  labor  of  free  immigrants  in  the  cities  for  compulsory  labor, 
all  show  how  deeply  the  spirit  of  Christianity  had  penetrated 
into  the  masses  of  the  people.  Theodore  Studita,  Abbot  of 
the  Monastery  of  Studium  in  Constantinople,  in  his  Diatheke, 

vol.  ii.  23 


864  MODERN   GREECE. 

or  Confession  of  Faith,  written  shortly  before  his  death,  says : 
"  A  monk  ought  not  to  possess  a  slave,  neither  for  his  own  ser- 
vice, nor  for  the  service  of  his  monastery,  nor  for  the  culture 
of  its  lands ;  for  a  slave  is  a  man  made  after  the  image  of  God." 
Similar  sentiments  had  found  utterance  even  before.  Justinian 
had  declared  that  it  was  the  glory  of  the  Emperor  to  hasten 
the  emancipation  of  slaves.  At  a  later  period,  Alexis  I.  es- 
tablished the  principle,  that  the  most  favorable  interpretation 
was  to  be  given  to  those  who  sought  to  prove  their  right  to 
personal  liberty.  He  declared  that,  though  human  society  and 
laws  have  divided  mankind  into  freemen  and  slaves,  yet  it 
must  be  remembered  that,  in  the  eye  of  God,  all  men  are 
equal,  that  there  is  one  Lord  of  all,  and  one  faith  and  bap- 
tism for  the  slave  as  for  the  master.  It  is  needless  to  show 
how  widely  this  philanthropic  spirit  diverged  from  the  practice 
both  of  the  Mahometans  in  the  East  and  of  the  Latin  Chris- 
tians in  the  West,  and  how  much  higher  was  the  type  of  civ- 
ilization in  which  these  humane  and  liberal  views  were  em- 
bodied than  existed  at  that  time  anywhere  else  in  the  world. 

From  the  period  of  which  I  have  been  speaking,  the  con- 
dition of  Greece  remained  without  any  important  change 
until  the  conquests  of  the  Normans  in  the  eleventh  century. 
In  1081  Robert  Guiscard  passed  over  from  Brindisi  to  Cor- 
fou  with  a  powerful  fleet.  The  inhabitants  of  the  island  mak- 
ing no  resistance,  he  landed  in  Epeirus  ;  but  the  death  of 
this  chieftain  left  the  expedition  with  no  permanent  conse- 
quence on  the  condition  of  the  country.  Another  invasion 
of  Greece  was  made  by  Bohemund,  called  the  Duke  of  An- 
tioch.  It  was  repelled  by  the  Emperor  Alexis,  and  Bohe- 
mund was  forced  to  acknowledge  himself  liegeman  of  the  By- 
zantine Emperor.  A  third  invasion  was  conducted  by  Roger, 
the  powerful  and  wealthy  king  of  Sicily.  He  appeared  off 
Corfou  in  1146,  with  a  fleet  of  seventy  sail,  and,  having  easily 
mastered  the  island,  proceeded  to  the  mainland,  marchea 
through  Epeirus  and  Attica,  and  plundered  Thebes,  Athens, 
end  Corinth.     Thebes   was  then  a  rich   manufacturing  town, 


THE   BYZANTINE   EMPIRE.  355 

especially  remarkable  for  the  silk  trade.  The  city  was  com- 
pletely pillaged ;  gold,  silver,  jewels,  bales  of  silk,  were  carried 
off  to  the  fleet ;  and  the  most  skilful  of  the  silk-workers  trans- 
ported as  slaves  to  Sicily,  there  to  exercise  their  industry  for 
the  benefit  of  their  new  masters.  Corinth  was  sacked  with 
equal  cruelty.  These  spoliations  were  a  fatal  blow  to  the  pros- 
perity of  Greece,  which  had  been  silently  advancing  for  the 
two  preceding  centuries.  But  little  occurred  to  disturb  the 
country  during  the  century  that  followed,  until  the  Crusades 
broke  out,  and  precipitated  the  chivalry  of  Europe  upon  the 
coasts  of  Asia. 

The  Khaliffs  interfered  but  little  with  the  Christian  pilgrims 
visiting  the  sacred  places  in  the  Holy  Land  ;  but  when  the 
Seljuk  Turks,  having  secured  the  dominion  over  the  Saracens, 
became  masters  of  Jerusalem,  the  pilgrims  were  exposed  to 
unheard-of  cruelties,  which  exasperated  the  Christian  world. 

The  religious  enthusiasm  of  Western  Europe,  harmonizing 
with  the  spirit  of  chivalry,  created  a  storm  of  unparalleled  vio- 
lence, and  swept  the  combined  hosts  of  the  Christian  powers 
from  Europe  to  the  East,  resolved  to  rescue  the  Holy  Sepul- 
chre from  the  polluting  hands  of  the  infidels.  Here  commenced 
the  question  about  the  Holy  Places,  which  originally  armed  the 
great  nations  of  Christendom  against  the  followers  of  Ma- 
homet ;  and  which  now,  blending  with  political  interests  of  the 
same  great  nations,  has  armed  them  in  defence  of  the  Turk 
against  the  encroachments  of  the  Czar,  reopening  the  book  of 
blood  and  horror  which  we  had  hoped  was  closed  forever. 

The  first  three  Crusades,  though  very  important  in  their  ef- 
fects upon  the  Byzantine  Empire,  did  not  directly  act  upon  the 
condition  of  Greece  ;  but  the  fourth  Crusade,  which  took  place 
in  1203,  had  the  most  important  consequences.  The  arrival  of 
.The  armies  of  the  West  was  in  the  highest  degree  unwelcome 
to  the  Emperors  of  the  East ;  but  they  could  not  well  save 
themselves  from  the  necessity  of  extending  reluctant  hospitali- 
ties to  the  intruders.  The  Greek  assumed  to  be  far  in  advance 
of  the  rest  of  the  world  in  refinement,  and  felt  contempt  for 


B6t>  MODERN   GREECE. 

the  rudeness  and  barbarism  of  the  Latin  ;  and  the  Latin  looked 
at  the  Greek  as  of  a  degraded  caste  and  a  heretic.  In  June 
of  1203,  the  Venetian  fleet,  with  an  army  of  Crusaders  on 
board,  appeared  at  Constantinople,  having  engaged  to  restore 
the  son  of  the  dethroned  Emperor  to  his  hereditary  rights. 
They  were  commanded  by  Henry  Dandolo,  the  blind  old  war- 
rior of  Venice,  who  had  private  wrongs  to  avenge  no  less  than 
public  engagements  to  fulfil.  After  two  days  of  desperate 
fighting  the  city  was  taken,  and  Alexis  IV.  crowned  Emper- 
or. A  destructive  conflagration  soon  after  laid  a  great  part  of 
the  city  in  ashes,  in  consequence  of  a  wilful  act  of  incen- 
diarism, committed  in  a  drunken  frolic  by  some  Flemish  sol- 
diers ;  and  Constantinople  never  entirely  recovered  from  the 
calamity.  This  excited  the  fury  of  the  people  beyond  all 
bounds ;  and  fifteen  thousand  of  the  Latins,  who  resided  within 
the  walls  of  the  city,  were  forced  to  quit  the  capital  and  seek 
safety  in  Galata,  beyond  the  Golden  Horn.  The  Venetians 
and  Crusaders  again  laid  siege  to  Constantinople,  on  the  12th 
of  April,  1204  ;  and  another  portion  of  the  city  perished  by 
a  third  conflagration.  "These  three  fires,"  it  is  said,  "which 
the  Franks  had  lighted  in  Constantinople,  destroyed  more 
houses  than  were  contained  in  the  three  largest  cities  in 
France."  Thus  the  capital  of  the  Byzantine  Empire  fell  into 
.he  hands  of  Latin  princes ;  and  the  Empire  itself,  under  the 
name  of  Romania,  reorganized  under  a  series  of  Western  Em- 
perors, continued  until  1261.  Greece,  too,  was  completely  re- 
modelled. Boniface,  Marquis  of  Montferrat,  became  sovereign 
of  Thessalonica.  Epeirus  still  continued,  under  the  title  at 
first  of  a  despotate,  to  be  governed  by  a  Byzantine  family. 
Afterwards  it  was  changed  into  an  empire,  and  then  changed 
back  again  to  a  despotate,  which  lasted  until  1469.  Achaia 
and  the  Morea,  under  Guillelme  de  Champlite  and  his  succes- 
sor, Geoffrey  de  Villehardouin,  became  a  principality,  and  sc 
continued  till  1387.  The  Dukedom  of  the  Archipelago,  oi 
Naxos,  lasted  from  1207  to  1566,  —  a  greater  prolongation  of 
the  Frankish  power  than  occurred  anywhere  else  in  the  East. 


THE  DUKES   OF  ATHENS.  357 

but  by  far  the  most  interesting  of  these  Frankish  establish- 
ments in  Greece  was  the  Dukedom  of  Athens,  which  began 
in  1205,  with  the  reign  of  Otho  de  la  Roche,  and  continued 
in  his  family  until  1308.  The  house  of  Brienne  succeeded 
at  this  time,  in  the  person  of  Walter  de  Brienne,  who,  being 
threatened  by  his  enemies,  called  in  the  assistance  of  the  Grand 
Catalan  Company,  —  a  troop  of  marauders,  whose  adventures 
in  the  East  form  a  very  romantic  episode  in  this  chapter  of  his- 
tory. When  he  attempted  to  dismiss  them,  they  defied  him, 
and,  marching  into  the  plain  of  Boeotia,  took  up  a  position  on 
the  banks  of  the  Cephissus,  near  the  ancient  Orchomenos. 
The  Duke  of  Athens,  with  a  numerous  body  of  cavalry,  pur- 
sued them.  The  Catalan  leaders  had  conducted  the  waters  of 
the  Cephissus  into  the  fields  covered  with  corn,  just  in  front 
of  their  own  lines,  making  the  ground  soft  and  muddy,  while 
the  verdure  concealed  every  appearance  of  irrigation.  The 
Duke  dashed  on  with  his  horsemen ;  but  getting  inextricably 
involved  in  the  yielding  earth,  the  whole  band  of  cavalry,  with 
the  exception  of  two,  were  slain.  The  Catalans  pushed  their 
conquest  vigorously,  capturing  both  Thebes  and  Athens.  At 
Thebes  they  burned  the  magnificent  Palace  of  St.  Omar, 
whose  splendor  had  been  the  theme  of  minstrels  in  that  age. 
At  Athens  they  laid  waste  the  olive-groves  of  the  Academy 
and  Colonos.  They  divided  the  fiefs  of  the  nobles  who  had 
fallen,  and  the  officers  took  in  marriage  the  surviving  widows 
and  heiresses.  In  the  language  of  Muntaner,  the  quaint  old 
Spanish  chronicler,  who  was  an  eyewitness  of  what  he  de- 
scribes, "  Many  stout  Catalan  warriors  received  as  wives  noble 
ladies,  for  whom,  the  day  before  their  victory,  they  would 
have  counted  it  an  honor  to  be  allowed  to  hold  their  washing- 
basin." 

These  events  were  followed  by  the  establishment  of  a  Duke 
from  the  Sicilian  branch  of  the  house  of  Aragon,  at  the  re- 
quest conveyed  by  a  deputation  of  the  Catalans  to  Frederic 
II.  From  that  time  the  Duchy  of  Athens  and  Neopatras  be- 
rame  an  appanage  of  the  house  of  Aragon,  and  so  remained 


858  MODERN   GREECE. 

until  1386.  From  this  line  of  princes  the  power  passed  to 
the  Florentine  house  of  Acciauoli,  which  had  risen  by  com- 
mercial success  to  great  influence  both  in  Italy  and  in  the 
East.  Six  Dukes  of  this  family  ruled  over  Athens  from  1386 
to  1456,  when  Attica,  with  the  rest  of  Greece,  fell  under  the 
yoke  of  the  Turks,  and  the  transient  reflex  of  ancient  pros- 
perity she  had  enjoyed  under  these  Western  rulers  sank  in  the 
long  night  of  slavery. 

During  the  period  of  the  Dukes  of  Athens,  Muntaner  de- 
clares that  the  Frankish  chivalry  of  Greece  was  second  to  none 
in  Europe.  The  Duke  of  Athens  was  one  of  the  greatest 
princes  of  the  Empire  of  Romania,  and  among  the  noblest  of 
those  sovereigns  who  did  not  bear  the  kingly  title.  Athens 
was  the  resort  of  the  gayest  knights ;  and  chivalrous  games 
and  ceremonies  were  often  rehearsed  among  the  classic  ruins 
which  still  abounded  in  that  city.  The  service  of  the  Roman 
Church  was  performed  in  the  Parthenon,  then  consecrated  to 
the  Blessed  Virgin ;  and  on  one  occasion,  as  the  pages  of  the 
delightful  old  chronicler  attest,  a  visitor  to  the  ducal  palace 
received  the  honor  of  knighthood  in  the  Temple  of  Athene. 
Among  the  classic  sculptures  still  found,  though  in  mutilated 
beauty,  on  the  Acropolis,  there  are  some  rude  fragments  exe- 
cuted in  the  time  of  the  Franks. 

But  these  Latin  princes  never  identified  themselves  with  the 
native  population.  They  preserved  their  language,  as  they  did 
their  manners,  unchanged ;  and  Muntaner  says,  "  The  French 
was  spoken  as  well  at  Athens  as  at  Pai'is."  The  feudal  sys- 
tem they  introduced  was  abhorrent  to  the  spirit  of  the  people, 
and  never  rooted  itself  in  the  popular  feelings.  They  lived  as 
a  ruling  caste  among  a  subject  race,  and  the  vices  of  the  sys- 
tem made  them  an  easy  prey  to  the  fiery  zeal  and  hardihood 
of  a  fresh  nation  of  conquerors.  They  too,  like  the  invaders 
vho  preceded  them,  utterly  disappeared  from  the  face  of  Hel- 
las, with  their  language,  their  manners,  their  jousts  and  tourna- 
ments, their  stately  revels,  and  their  devotion  to  the  fair.  They 
left  a  few  ruined  castles  here  and  there  on  the  hill-tops  of 


THE   DUKES    OF   ATHENS.  359 

Greece,  contrasting  strangely  with  the  classic  ruins  of  Hellenic 
times.  The  stately  Palace  of  St.  Omar,  at  Thebes,  where 
Muntaner  visited  his  master,  Don  Fernando  of  Majorca,  who 
was  then  a  prisoner  in  its  grand  old  halls,  is  all  gone,  except  a 
ruined  tower,  which  hostile  forces  and  the  convulsions  of  nature 
have  been  alike  unable  to  shatter.  Heie  and  there,  in  the  de- 
caying monasteries  of  Greece,  a  few  musty  records  of  those 
times  may  be  explored  by  the  curious  traveller.  The  Dukes 
of  Athens,  who  held  their  knightly  revels  in  their  palace  by 
the  Propylaea,  or  presided  over  tournaments  in  the  Plain  of 
Athens,  are  now  to  be  traced  only  in  an  arched  subterranean 
chamber,  an  old  tower,  and  two  stone  coffins  in  the  crumb- 
ling monastery  of  Daphne,  —  which  occupies  the  site  of  an  an- 
cient Temple  of  Apollo,  —  thrown  carelessly  into  a  dai'k  room 
filled  with  rubbish,  known  only  by  the  nearly  obliterated  jieur 
de-Us  carved  on  their  sides,  and  shown  for  a  drachma  by  two 
or  three  ancient  nuns,  who  seem  to  have  come  down  from  the 
Middle  Ages,  —  contemporaries  of  the  ducal  coffins  now  emp- 
tied of  their  tenants.  When  I  looked  upon  the  dusty  vacancy 
where  princes  had  once  been  laid,  and  listened  to  the  cracked 
and  droning  voices  where  music  and  mirth  had  once  been, 
both  seemed  a  united  lesson  on  the  mutability  of  all  human 
affairs. 


LECTURE    VI. 


TURKISH  CONQUEST   OF   CONSTANTINOPLE.  — LITERATURE 
OF  THE  BYZANTINE  PERIOD. 


At  the  close  of  the  last  Lecttire  a  brief  outline  was  given 
of  the  epoch  of  the  Frankish  princes  in  Greece,  lasting  be- 
tween two  and  three  centuries  from  the  taking  of  Constanti- 
nople by  the  Crusaders.  I  spoke  of  the  Dukes  of  Athens,  and 
of  the  temporary  introduction  of  the  feudal  system  and  tht 
spirit  of  chivalry,  with  Latin  Christianity,  among  the  classic 
memorials  and  splendid  ruins  still  existing  in  that  illustrious 
capital.  The  period,  and  the  incidents  of  it  which  have  been 
preserved  by  the  writers  of  Constantinople,  the  chronicle  of 
the  fine  old  Spaniard  Muntaner,  and  the  picturesque  records 
of  Villehardouin  concerning  the  capture  of  Constantinople,  are 
exceedingly  interesting  ;  but  I  pause  for  a  moment  only  to 
point  out  the  traces  which  the  Duchy  of  Athens  has  left  here 
and  there  in  modern  literature.  The  fame  of  the  brilliant 
court  of  Athens  resounded  through  the  West  of  Europe,  and 
many  a  chapter  of  old  romance  is  filled  with  gorgeous  pictures 
or  its  splendors.  One  of  the  heroines  of  Boccaccio's  Decame- 
ron, in  the  course  of  her  adventurous  life,  is  found  at  Athens, 
inspiring  the  Duke  by  her  charms.  Dante  was  a  contempo- 
rary of  Guy  II.  and  Walter  de  Brienne ;  and,  in  his  "  Divina 
Cominedia,"  he  applies  to  Theseus,  king  of  ancient  Athens, 
the  title  so  familiar  to  him,  borne  by  the  princely  rulers  in  his 
own  day.  Theseus  is,  like  Otho  or  Walter,  il  Duca  d'Atene, 
—  the  Duke  of  Athens.  Chaucer,  too,  —  the  bright  herald  of 
English  poetry,  —  had  often  heard  of  the  Dukes  of  Athens , 
and  he  too,  like  Dante,  gives  the  title  to  Theseus.     Finally,  in 


TURKISH   CONQUEST    OF   CONSTANTINOPLE.  361 

the  age  of  Elizabeth,  when  Italian  poetry  was  much  studied  by 
scholars  and  courtiers*,  Shakespeare,  in  the  delightful  scenes  of 
the  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  introduces  Theseus,  Duke  of 
Athens,  as  the  conqueror  and  the  lover  of  Hippolyta,  the  war- 
rior-queen of  the  Amazons. 

As  the  Byzantine  Empire  was  overthrown  by  the  Turks,  and 
the  fortunes  of  the  Hellenic  race  have  been  bound  up  with  the 
triumphs  of  these  descendants  of  Tartars ;  as  Eastern  Chris- 
tianity has  been  so  long  under  the  domination  of  the  religion 
of  Islam,  and  has  at  length,  after  tedious  centuries  of  servitude, 
partly  emancipated  itself  from  the  yoke,  and,  in  the  course  of 
coming  events,  will  probably  complete  its  enfranchisement; 
and  as  the  transactions  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century 
seem  to  me  to  explain  the  long  and  undiminished  hostility  be- 
tween the  Tartar  and  Hellenic  races,  —  I  will  venture  to  dwell 
for  a  moment  upon  Turkish  history,  in  a  more  connected  man- 
ner than  I  have  yet  done. 

The  Turks  are  first  mentioned  in  history  in  the  sixth  cen- 
tury. They  are  a  Tartar  race,  from  the  great  steppes  of 
Northern  Asia,  at  the  foot  of  the  Altai  Mountains.  In  the 
eighth  century  they  became  blended  with  the  Saracens  in  Per- 
sia, and  in  the  tenth  reigned  over  Palestine,  Syria,  and  Egypt. 
In  the  eleventh  century,  another  tribe,  called  the  Seljuk 
Turks,  subdued  the  greater  part  of  Western  Asia,  and  estab- 
lished the  powerful  empire  with  which  the  Crusaders  waged 
war  for  the  possession  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  The  Ottoman 
Empire,  built  upon  the  ruins  of  the  transient  dominions  estab- 
lished by  its  predecessors,  and  now  representing  the  Saracens, 
Arabs,  and  Turks,  was  founded  in  the  thirteenth  century  by 
Oth man,  who  extended  the  bounds  of  his  territories  to  the 
shores  of  the  Black  Sea.  This  was  a  century  and  a  half  be- 
fore the  capture  of  Constantinople.  In  1360,  Adrianople  was 
taken  by  Amurath  I.,  and  became  for  a  time  the  seat  of  the 
Turkish  Empire  in  Europe.  The  successors  of  this  prince 
were  involved  in  wars  with  the  Venetians,  Hungarians,  and 
Poles,  in  which  at  eight  different  times  the  destinies  of  Euro- 
pean civilisation  hung  trembling  in  the  balance. 


362  MODERN   GREECE. 

Mahomet  II.  was  born  at  Adrianople  in  1430,  and  sue 
reeded  Amurath  II.  in  1451.  He  was  a  man  of  uncommon 
ability  and  acquirements  for  his  race  and  his  age.  He  under- 
stood five  languages.  The  Greek  historian  Phranzes,  who 
had  seen  him  at  the  court  of  Amurath,  describes  him  as  highly 
gifted,  fond  of  the  society  of  learned  men,  not  ignorant  of 
science,  and  addicted  to  astrology.  At  the  same  time  he 
was  cruel  to  the  last  degree,  pitiless,  and  licentious.  No 
consideration,  human  or  divine,  stood  between  him  and  the 
gratification  of  his  desires.  But  his  acts  and  his  conquests 
come  within  the  scope  of  my  subject  no  further  than  they 
affected  the  fortunes  of  the  Greeks,  and  on  this  topic  a  few 
words  must  suffice.  The  conquest  of  Constantinople  was  the 
first  object  on  which  his  thoughts  were  fixed  at  the  opening 
of  his  reign.  The  resolution  with  which  he  had  formed  this 
purpose  expressed  itself  in  his  stern  reply  to  the  ambassadors 
of  the  Emperor,  offering  him  tribute  if  he  would  renounce  the 
project  of  building  a  fort  on  the  European  shore  of  the  Bos- 
porus, which,  at  the  distance  of  only  five  miles  from  the  capital, 
would  give  him  the  command  of  the  Black  Sea.  He  ordered 
the  envoys  to  retire,  and  threatened  to  flay  alive  any  who 
should  dare  to  bring  him  a  similar  message  again.  The  fort 
was  finished  in  three  months,  and  garrisoned  with  four  hun- 
dred janizaries  ;  a  tribute  was  exacted  of  all  vessels  that  passed, 
and  war  was  formally  declared  by  the  Sultan.  Constantine 
made  the  best  preparations  in  his  power  for  defence  ;  but  he 
could  muster  only  six  hundred  Greek  soldiers.  Disheartened 
by  the  feebleness  and  want  of  spirit  manifested  by  his  own  sub- 
jects, the  Emperor  had  recourse  to  the  Pope,  with  a  view  to 
the  reunion  of  the  Eastern  and  Western  Churches,  in  the  hope 
of  drawing  to  his  standard  a  portion  of  the  well-trained  troops 
and  officers  then  so  numerous  in  Italy.  A  cardinal  was  ac- 
cordingly despatched  to  Constantinople,  and  on  the  12th  of  De- 
cember, 1452,  the  Emperor  Constantine  celebrated  his  union 
with  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  Cathedral  of  St.  Sophia.  A 
few  troops  came  from  Italy,  and  Justiniani,  an  Italian  officer 


TURKISH  CONQUEST  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.        363 

arrived  from  Genoa  with  two  galleys  and  three  hundred  chosen 
men.  He  wis  appointed  general  of  the  guard.  But  with 
all  the  reinforcements  thus  received,  the  number  was  insignif- 
icant, compared  with  the  extent  of  the  walls  to  be  defended, 
and  the  overpowering  host  which  the  Sultan  was  concen- 
trating around  the  devoted  city.  The  hatred  of  the  Greeks 
for  the  Latin  Christians  was  an  insurmountable  obstacle  to 
thorough  co-operation.  Dissensions  broke  out  between  the 
Grand  Duke  Notaras  and  the  Italian  commander.  "  I  be- 
seech you,  my  brethren,"  said  the  Emperor,  "  be  at  peace  ;  the 
war  from  abroad  is  enough ;  for  God's  mercy,  do  not  fight  with 
one  another." 

Instead  of  rallying  around  their  Emperor  unanimously,  the 
bigots  among  his  subjects  spent  their  time  in  denouncing  his 
apostasy,  and  insulting  him  as  he  passed  through  the  streets. 
Gennadius,  who  was  afterwards  Patriarch  under  the  Sultan, 
carried  this  insane  spirit  of  intolerance  so  far,  that  he  declared 
he  would  rather  see  the  turban  of  the  Turks  ruling  in  the 
heart  of  the  city,  than  the  mitre  of  the  Latins.  The  means 
of  defence,  machines,  artillery,  and  powder,  (for  cannon  and 
gunpowder  had  already  begun  to  be  used,)  were  scantily  pro- 
vided. The  land-wall,  for  five  miles  exposed  to  attack  at 
every  point,  had  to  be  manned  ;  the  wall  towards  the  port 
and  the  Propontis  was  not  far  from  nine  miles  in  length,  and 
the  whole  garrison  amounted  to  only  nine  thousand  men. 
The  fleet  consisted  of  twenty-three  vessels  of  all  kinds.  The 
entrance  of  the  port  was  closed  by  a  strong  chain,  the  end  of 
which  was  secured  in  a  fort,  of  which  the  Greeks  held  posses- 
sion, in  Galata. 

The  first  division  of  the  Ottoman  army  left  Adrianople  in 
February,  1453.  In  April,  the  Sultan  established  his  lines 
from  the  head  of  the  port  to  the  shore  of  the  Propontis,  and 
erected  his  batteries  —  fourteen  in  all  —  against  the  principal 
gates,  especially  against  Chasias  and  St.  Romanos,  the  latter 
of  which  is  now  called  Top  Kapou,  Cannon  Gate,  in  commem- 
oration of  the  siege.      A  Dacian  artilleryman  had  cast  a  mon- 


864  MODERN   GREECE. 

Bter  cannon  expressly  for  this  assault,  two  and  a  half  feet  in 
diameter  at  the  mouth,  for  the  purpose  of  firing  granite  balls. 
It  took  two  months  to  transport  it  one  hundred  and  eight 
miles ;  it  was  drawn  by  a  hundred  oxen,  and  held  in  equi- 
librium by  four  hundred  men.  This  tremendous  piece  was 
mounted  opposite  the  St.  Romanos  gate,  where  the  chief  as- 
sault was  to  be  made.  The  army  is  said  to  have  consisted  of 
two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men  of  all  arms ;  and  the  fleet, 
of  four  hundred  and  twenty  vessels  of  all  sizes.  These  num- 
bers are  probably  an  exaggeration;  but  the  overwhelming  su- 
periority of  the  Turkish  forces,  and  the  fiery  energy  of  the 
youthful  Sultan,  left  no  hope  of  a  successful  resistance.  Yet 
some  disasters  checked  the  ardor  of  the  besiegers.  Four  corn- 
ships,  bound  for  Constantinople,  destroyed  the  Turkish  galleys 
that  intercepted  them,  and  passed  triumphantly  into  the  har- 
bor over  the  chain  which  was  lowered  for  their  passage.  The 
great  gun  burst  without  doing  any  damage,  except  killing  its 
inventor  and  many  Turks  ;  and  a  wooden  tower  they  had 
brought  up  against  the  wall  was  burnt  down  in  a  night  sortie 
by  Justiniani.  But  these  incidents  only  stimulated  the  activ- 
ity of  the  Sultan.  He  resolved  to  place  his  fleet,  which  still 
lay  in  the  upper  part  of  the  Bosporus,  in  direct  communi- 
cation with  his  army  ;  but  the  harbor  was  closed  and  well 
defended.  He  accordingly  conceived  and  executed  with  in- 
credible energy  the  plan  of  transporting  his  galleys  by  land 
over  the  heights  of  Pera,  and  launching  them  in  the  Golden 
Horn,  under  protection  of  his  own  batteries.  A  road  was 
built,  laid  with  planks  and  rails,  and  covered  with  tallow,  up 
which,  by  the  aid  of  windlasses  and  numerous  yokes  of  oxen, 
the  vessels  were  dragged  one  after  another,  and  let  down  the 
opposite  slope,  just  above  the  present  arsenal.  The  removal 
of  a  division  of  the  Ottoman  fleet  thus  took  place  in  a  single 
night,  and  at  daylight  the  Greeks  looked  out  with  amazement 
upon  seventy  hostile  ships,  riding  at  anchor  under  the  batteries 
Having  accomplished  this  signal  achievement,  the  Sultan  next 
threw  across  the  harbor  a   bridge   defended  by  artillery-,  to 


TURKISH   CONQUEST   OF   CONSTANTINOPLE.  365 

establish  an  easy  communication  between  the  besieging  force 
and  the  naval  camp  up  the  Bosporus.  Mahomet  now  sum- 
moned the  Emperor  to  surrender,  offering  him  an  appanage  as 
a  vassal  of  the  Porte ;  but  Constantine,  who  had  calmly  re- 
solved not  to  survive  the  fall  of  the  city,  indignantly  rejected 
the  insulting  proposal.  On  the  night  before  the  assault,  the 
Emperor  rode  round  to  all  the  posts,  encouraging  the  troops 
by  his  cheerful  demeanor;  then,  resorting  to  the  Church  of  St. 
Sophia,  he  partook  with  his  companions  of  the  holy  sacrament, 
according  to  the  Latin  form.  He  returned  to  the  imperial 
palace,  and,  asking  pardon  of  all  the  members  of  his  household 
for  every  offence  he  might  ever  have  given  them,  withdrew, 
amidst  their  sighs  and  prayers  and  tears,  mounted  his  horse, 
and  rode  away,  with  the  solemn  certainty  that  he  should  never 
meet  them  again  in  this  world. 

Before  the  dawn  of  day,  May  29,  1453,  preparations  wrere 
made  for  the  assault,  the  troops  rapidly  taking  their  positions 
before  the  portions  of  the  wall  they  were  to  attack,  and  the 
galleys,  with  towers  and  scaling  platforms,  moving  up  against 
the  fortifications  of  the  port,  protected  by  the  artillery  on  the 
bridge.  The  principal  attack  was  directed  to  the  gate  of  St. 
Romanos,  where  a  passage  had  already  been  effected  into  the 
city.  For  more  than  two  hours  the  defence  was  maintained  at 
every  point,  and  in  the  harbor  victory  seemed,  for  a  time, 
inclining  in  favor  of  the  besieged  ;  but  at  length,  the  small 
number  of  the  defenders  being  diminished  by  death  and  ex- 
hausted by  fatigue,  their  commander  wounded,  and  the  Em- 
peror left  almost  unsupported,  a  chosen  band,  led  on  by  a 
gigantic  warrior,  Hassan  of  Ulubad,  gained  the  summit  of  the 
dilapidated  tower  which  flanked  the  passage.  Theophilus  Pa- 
Ireologos,  when  he  saw  the  Emperor  fighting,  and  the  city  on 
llie  point  of  falling,  cried  out  with  a  loud  voice,  and  with  tears, 
SeXoo  daveli  fiaWov  rj  £r}v, — "J  wish  to  die  rather  than  to 
live,"  —  and,  rushing  into  the  midst  of  the  adverse  ranks,  and 
hewing  them  down  with  his  sword,  was  at  length  overpowered 
and  slain.     The  Emperor,  left  almost  alone,  was  cut  down  by 


366  MODERN   GREECE. 

the  Turks,  who,  in  the  dim  morning  twilight,  failed  to  recognize 
him.  Hassan  and  many  of  his  followers  fell ;  but,  fresh  col- 
umns coming  up,  a  corps  of  janizaries  rushed  into  Constanti- 
nople over  the  lifeless  body  of  the  Emperor.  Other  columns 
entered  at  other  points,  and  the  despairing  people  —  senators, 
priests,  monks,  nuns,  husbands,  wives,  and  children  —  sought 
safety  in  the  Church  of  St.  Sophia.  A  prophecy  had  been 
circulated  that  here  the  Turks  would  be  arrested  by  an  angel 
from  heaven,  with  a  drawn  sword ;  and  hither  the  miserable 
multitude  crowded,  in  the  expectation  of  supernatui'al  help 
The  conquerors  followed,  sword  in  hand,  slaughtering  those 
whom  they  encountered  in  the  street.  They  broke  down  the 
doors  of  the  church  with  axes,  and,  rushing  in,  committed  every 
act  of  atrocity  that  a  frantic  thirst  for  blood  and  the  inflamed 
passions  of  demons  could  suggest.  All  the  unhappy  victims 
were  divided  as  slaves  among  the  soldiers,  without  regard  to 
blood  or  rank,  and  hurried  off  to  the  camp;  and  the  mighty 
cathedral,  so  long  the  glory  of  the  Christian  world,  soon  pre 
sented  only  traces  of  the  orgies  of  hell.  The  other  quarters  of 
the  city  were  plundered  by  other  divisions  of  the  army.  The 
rich  warehouses  along  the  port  were  speedily  pillaged  of  their 
accumulated  merchandise.  About  noon  the  Sultan  made  his 
triumphal  entry  by  the  gate  of  St.  Romanos,  passing  by  the 
body  of  the  Emperor,  which  lay  concealed  among  the  slain. 
Entering  the  church,  lie  ordered  a  moolah  to  ascend  the  bema, 
and  announce  to  the  Mussulmans  that  St.  Sophia  was  now  a 
mosque,  consecrated  to  the  prayers  of  the  true  believers.  He 
ordered  the  body  of  the  Emperor  to  be  sought,  his  head  to  be 
exposed  to  the  people,  and  afterwards  to  be  sent  a*s  a  trophy, 
to  be  seen  by  the  Greeks,  in  the  principal  cities  of  the  Otto- 
man Empire.  For  three  days  the  city  was  given  up  to  the 
indescribable  horrors  of  pillage  and  the  license  of  the  Mussul- 
man soldiery.  Forty  thousand  perished  during  the  sack  of  the 
city,  and  fifty  thousand  were  reduced  to  slavery.  Youth, 
strength,  beauty,  and  rank  only  insured  to  their  possessors 
the  sad  lot  of  servitude,  adding  often  the  harsher  doom  of  ai. 


TURKISH  CONQUEST  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.        367 

enforced  conversion  to  the  Mahometan  faith.  Many  families 
were  utterly  destroyed.  The  Grand  Duke  Notaras,  one  of  the 
most  distinguished  persons  in  the  Empire,  refused  to  comply 
with  the  demand  of  the  Sultan,  that  his  youngest  son  should 
be  sent  to  become  a  page  in  the  palace,  well  knowing  the  fate 
which  would  await  him  there.  The  Sultan  ordered  him  and 
all  his  sons  to  instant  execution.  The  scene  of  the  execution, 
as  described  by  Ducas  and  Phranzes,  is  most  pathetic,  —  the 
father  encouraging  his  sons,  by  Christian  exhortations,  to  meet 
death  bravely,  and  then,  after  retiring  to  a  chapel  for  a  mo- 
ment's prayer,  calmly  submitting  to  the  headsman,  with  the 
bodies  of  his  murdered  children  lying  before  him.  Of  other 
families,  the  men  were  put  to  death,  the  male  children  placed 
in  the  schools  of  the  janizaries,  and  the  females  shut  up  in  the 
harems  of  the  Sultan  and  his  courtiers.  Even  Mahomet,  when 
he  arrived  at  the  imperial  palace,  was  struck  by  the  melan- 
choly aspect  of  the  place,  and  by  so  awful  an  illustration  of  the 
mutability  of  human  affairs.  Even  he  —  stained  with  blood 
—  recalled  a  couplet  of  the  Persian  poet  Firdusi :  — 

"  The  spider's  curtain  hangs  before  the  portal  of  the  royal  palace  ; 
The  owl  fills  with  his  nocturnal  wail  the  watch-tower  of  Efrasyab." 

Mahomet  was  not  destitute  of  political  craft.  He  well  un- 
derstood the  necessity  of  securing  the  allegiance  of  the  great 
authorities  of  the  Oriental  Church.  The  Koran  does  not  im- 
peratively command  the  destruction  of  unbelieving  dogs ;  it  is 
enough  to  satisfy  the  spirit  of  the  religion  if  they  are  made  trib- 
utaries and  slaves.  The  Patriarch  of  Constantinople  fled  to 
Italy  on  the  downfall  of  the  city ;  the  Sultan  directed  the 
clergy  to  proceed  to  the  election  of  another.  Their  choice 
fell  unanimously  on  George  Scholarius,  or  Gennadius,  a  native 
of  Constantinople,  who  had  early  in  life  distinguished  himself 
by  his  literary  acquirements.  He  was  at  first  opposed  to 
he  reunion  of  the  Eastern  and  Western  Churches,  but,  when 
attending  the  Emperor  at  the  Councils  o/  Ferrara  and  Flor- 
rnce,  was  induced  to  advocate  the  measure.  Afterwards,  re- 
turning to  Constantinople,  he  went  oack  to  his  earh'er  opinion. 


368  MODERN   GREECE. 

denounced  the  union  as  an  act  of  apostasy  which  would  bring 
down  the  wrath  of  Heaven  upon  the  devoted  city,  and  became 
a  leader  against  the  legate  of  the  Pope.  He  retired  into  a 
monastery,  but  continued  to  guide  the  counsels  of  the  Ortho- 
dox clergy.  Attempting  to  make  his  escape  on  the  capture  of 
the  city,  he  was  brought  back,  and  held  the  patriarchal  dig- 
nity about  five  years,  when  he  abdicated  and  retired  to  a  mon- 
astery at  Seme,  where  he  closed  his  life.  Most  of  his  works 
still  remain  unpublished.  In  the  work  called  ffistoria  Patri- 
archica,  written  in  modern  Greek  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
and  containing  the  history  of  the  Church  of  Constantinople 
from  1454  to  1578,  it  is  related  that,  after  the  Sultan  had  in- 
quired of  the  clergy  concerning  the  ceremonies  of  investiture 
practised  by  the  Emperors,  and  had  established  Gennadius  in 
the  dignities  of  the  office,  he  went  personally  to  the  patriarchal 
palace,  and  had  a  long  conversation  with  him  on  the  subject  of 
religion.  "  And  the  Patriarch,"  says  the  historian,  "  exhibited 
to  him  the  whole  truth  of  our  faith,  without  fear."  Afterwards 
he  wrote  down  the  substance  of  what  he  had  said  in  twenty 
articles,  and  submitted  it,  translated  into  Turkish,  to  the  Sul- 
tan. The  document  contains  a  very  good  summary  of  Chris- 
tian doctrines,  including  the  dogmas  of  the  councils,  which  are 
explained  as  well  here,  perhaps,  as  anywhere.  Some  of  the 
sentences  express  the  Christian  view  of  God,  and  the  relations 
of  man  to  the  Creator,  with  remarkable  force.  The  simple- 
minded  historian  says  that  the  Sultan  not  only  greatly  ad- 
mired the  theology  and  wisdom  of  the  Patriarch,  but  was 
strongly  moved  to  believe  in  Christianity,  and  conceived  a 
great  friendship  for  the  whole  Christian  community ;  that  he 
forbade  his  subjects  to  molest  or  slander  any  Christian ;  and 
that  he  had  much  joy  in  having  become  the  lord  and  master  of 
such  a  race.  All  this  is  very  curious  as  an  illustration  of  the 
character  of  Mahomet  II. ;  and  it  had  the  effect  of  calming 
he  fears  of  many  who  had  left  the  city,  and  who,  on  returning 
were  allowed  to  resume  a  portion  of  their  property.  Others 
-o  the  number  of  five  thousand  families,  he  compelled  to  re- 


THE  EMPIRE   OF  TREBIZOND.  369 

move  to  Constantinople  from  different  parts  of  his  dominions. 
As  he  enlarged  his  conquests,  he  continued  the  same  pol- 
icy ;  and  before  the  close  of  his  reign  that  city  had  become 
again  a  great  and  comparatively  flourishing  capital ;  but  it 
had  lost  its  character  as  the  seat  of  Byzantine  power  and  art. 
Mosques,  minarets,  fountains,  and  tombs  had  been  constructed 
in  every  quarter ;  more  than  forty  of  the  most  splendid  Chris- 
tian churches  were  converted  into  mosques  ;  and  Stamboul 
became  the  picturesque  Oriental  city  we  behold  it  at  the  pres- 
ent day. 

The  princes  of  the  Morea,  learning  the  capture  of  Constan- 
tinople, sent  their  submission  to  the  Sultan,  which  was  received 
on  condition  of  a  yearly  tribute  of  twelve  thousand  gold  ducats  ; 
and  now  nearly  the  whole  of  Greece,  from  north  to  south, 
was  subjected  to  the  sceptre  of  the  Moslems,  almost  without 
further  resistance. 

But  disturbances  and  revolts  called  for  the  presence  of 
the  Saltan ;  and  by  a  vigorous  campaign,  in  1458,  he  re- 
duced the  rebels  to  submission.  Again,  in  1460,  he  passed 
the  Isthmus  of  Corinth  to  suppress  new  tumults,  and,  by  a 
series  of  the  most  atrocious  massacres,  not  only  of  men  taken 
with  arms  in  their  hands,  but  of  unarmed  men,  women,  and 
children,  —  more  than  six  thousand  having  been  slain,  and 
ten  thousand  transported  to  Constantinople,  —  put  a  full  end 
to  the  power  of  the  Byzantine  rulers ;  and  after  a  few  more 
desperate  struggles  by  the  local  organizations,  in  which  similar 
scenes  of  slaughter  were  enacted,  the  subjection  of  the  Morea, 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  places  held  by  the  Venetians,  was 
completed,  its  resources  exhausted,  and  its  spirit  broken,  so 
that  the  annual  tribute  of  children,  which  the  Christians  were 
compelled  to  send  to  Constantinople,  failed  to  awaken  eithei 
patriotism  or  despair  among  the  Greeks. 

A  singular  chapter,  or  episode,  of  Byzantine  life  and  his- 
tory, is  presented  by  the  Empire  of  Trebizond.  Along  the 
shores  of  the  Black  Sea  many  cities  were  early  settled  by 
colonists  from  Greece.     From  the  mouth  of  the  Halys  to  the 

vol.   II.  24 


370  MODERN   GREECE. 

Caucasus  extends  a  magnificent  country  of  rich  plains,  wooded 
hills,  forests,  and  rapid,  fertilizing  streams.  On  a  table-shaped 
rock,  on  the  southeastern  shore  of  the  Euxine,  the  Greeks  es- 
tablished a  citadel,  which  from  its  form  they  called  Trapezous, 
—  now  changed  into  Trebizond,  —  as  early  as  the  eighth  cen- 
tury before  Christ.  In  the  Roman  times  it  became  an  impor- 
tant centre  of  commercial  relations  between  Persia  and  Europe, 
enjoying  the  privileges  of  a  free  city.  It  shared  the  fortunes  of 
the  Byzantine  Empire,  and  in  the  Iconoclastic  period  became 
the  capital  of  the  Theme  of  Chaldia,  and  the  centre  of  the 
diplomatic  relations  between  the  Imperial  government  and  the 
princes  of  Armenia  ;  and  when  the  wars  between  the  Saracens 
and  Christians  broke  out,  the  Duke  of  Chaldia,  who  was 
charged  with  the  business  relating  to  them,  made  Trebizond 
his  principal  residence.  From  time  to  time,  the  rulers  of  this 
Theme  attempted  to  make  themselves  independent  of  the  Im- 
perial supremacy.  But  it  was  not  until  the  Crusaders  cap- 
tured Constantinople,  and  divided  the  greater  part  of  the 
provinces  of  the  Empire  among  their  princes,  that  Trebizond 
became  a  separate  government,  under  the  rule  of  a  descendant 
of  the  Comneni. 

This  family,  which  gave  a  dynasty  to  Byzantium,  first  ap- 
peared prominently  towards  the  end  of  the  tenth  century,  and 
from  that  time,  for  four  hundred  years,  took  a  conspicuous, 
though  not  always  an  honorable,  part  in  the  affairs  of  the  world. 
Alexis  Comnenus,  a  young  prince,  nephew  of  the  Emperor 
Isaac  Comnenus,  escaped  to  Colchis  during  the  siege  of  Con- 
stantinople, with  his  brother  David,  and  there  succeeded  in 
raising  an  army,  with  which  he  entered  Trebizond  just  at  the 
moment  of  the  fall  of  the  capital.  Assuming  the  title  of 
Megas  Comnenos,  or  Grand  Comnenus,  to  distinguish  himself 
"rom  the  numerous  descendants  of  other  branches  of  the  family, 
ne  was  readily  acknowledged  Emperor,  and,  at  the  age  of  twen- 
ty-two, was  crowned  at  Trebizond.  His  career  of  conquest 
At  first  was  rapid  and  brilliant ;  but  at  length  the  young  Em- 
peror, coming  into  collision  with  the  Seljuk  Turks,  who  were 


THE   EMPIRE   OF   TREBIZOND.  371 

spreading  desolation  along  their  path,  was  obliged  to  acknowl- 
edge himself  a  vassal  of  the  Seljuk  Empire,  and  to  pay  an 
annual  tribute  to  the  Sultan  Azeddin.  From  1222  to  1280 
Trebizond  continued  tributary  to  the  Seljuk  Sultans ;  but  on 
the  accession  of  John  II.  her  independence  was  completely 
restored. 

The  history  of  Trebizond,  from  this  time  forward,  under 
twelve  Emperors  and  three  Empresses,  is  crowded  with  the 
details  of  external  and  civil  wars,  which  have  no  important 
bearing  upon  the  general  condition  of  the  world.  The  Ortho- 
dox Eastern  Church  was  here  supported,  under  the  protection 
of  St.  Eugenios,  who  was  so  great  a  favorite  that  one  son  out 
of  every  family  bore  his  name.  A  document  relating  to  a  law- 
suit was  found  by  Fallmerayer,  in  which  three  of  the  litigating 
parties  were  named  Eugenios.  In  the  conquering  career  of  the 
Turks,  the  doom  of  Trebizond  was  postponed  until  Constanti- 
nople had  fallen,  and  the  Morea  had  yielded  to  the  arms  of  Ma- 
homet II.  In  1461  the  Sultan  advanced  with  his  fleets  and  ar- 
mies, resolved  on  the  subjugation  of  Trebizond.  He  met  with 
little  opposition  from  David,  the  last  Emperor  of  the  Comnenian 
line,  who  made  terms  with  the  invader,  surrendered  the  city, 
and  withdrew  with  his  family  and  his  treasures  to  his  European 
appanage.  The  wealthy  inhabitants  were  compelled  to  em- 
igrate to  Constantinople,  and  their  estates  and  palaces  were 
conferred  on  Ottoman  officers.  The  remainder  of  the  popu- 
lation of  both  sexes  were  set  apart  as  slaves  of  the  Sultan  and 
the  army.  The  sons  of  the  noblest  families,  remarkable  for 
personal  beauty,  were  placed  as  pages  in  the  Sultan's  seraglio, 
and  others  were  enrolled  in  the  corps  of  janizaries,  or  dis- 
tributed among  the  soldiers  as  slaves.  Ancient  churches  and 
monasteries,  with  curious  paintings  in  the  Byzantine  style,  — 
nctures  of  saints  and  portraits  of  Emperors, — still  attest  the 
former  genius  and  piety  of  the  city  ;  but  they  are  fast  disap- 
pearing by  decay  and  neglect,  and,  unless  the  lovers  of  art  soon 
take  measures  for  their  protection,  will  utterly  pass  away,  as 
Christian  art  long  since  perished  at  Constantinople.     At  the 


S72  MODERN   GREECE. 

present  day,  not  a  single  descendant  of  an  ancient  Trapezun- 
tian  family  is  known  to  survive. 

The  dethroned  Emperor  was  permitted  to  live  in  peace  for 
a  few  years  ;  but  about  1470  he  fell  under  the  jealous  suspi- 
cions of  the  Sultan,  was  arrested  with  all  his  family,  and  car- 
ried to  Constantinople.  He  was  ordered  to  embrace  the  faith 
of  Islam,  under  pain  of  death;  but  he  rejected  the  condition 
with  firmness.  The  Emperor,  his  seven  sons,  and  his  nephew 
Alexis,  were  put  to  death,  and  their  lifeless  bodies  cast  out, 
unburied,  beyond  the  walls.  They  would  have  been  con- 
sumed by  the  dogs,  "  accustomed,"  says  an  eloquent  writer, 
"  during  the  reign  of  Mahomet  II.  to  feed  on  Christian  flesh," 
but  for  the  pious  care  of  the  Empress  Helen,  who,  clad  in  an 
humble  garb,  repaired  to  the  spot,  watched  over  their  bodies 
during  the  day,  and,  in  the  darkness  of  night,  assisted  by 
a  few  compassionate  friends,  silently  committed  them  to  the 
earth.  Her  daughter  was  torn  from  her  arms,  and  worse  than 
buried  in  a  Turkish  harem.  Widowed,  childless,  desolate, 
the  fallen  Empress,  having  suffered  the  saddest  changes  of 
public  fortune  and  the  most  harrowing  and  heart-breaking  of 
private  calamities, —  like  some  doomed  heroine  of  one  of  the 
tragic  families  of  antiquity,  —  passed  the  short  remainder  of 
her  life  in  mourning  and  prayer,  and  then  found  a  welcome 
refuge  in  the  grave. 

These  were  the  transactions  by  which  the  Sultan  and  his 
Ottoman  armies  established  themselves  as  a  European  power. 
I  confess  I  do  not  understand  how  historians  can  assert,  as 
some  of  the  more  recent  among  them  very  gravely  do,  that 
the  change  from  the  Byzantine  Emperors  to  the  Ottoman  Sul- 
tans was  a  benefit  to  Greece.  It  is  true,  that  the  Greeks  of 
the  Lower  Empire  had  become  degenerate  and  corrupt ;  that 
their  government  was  a  despotism,  and  their  Church  over- 
grown with  superstition.  But  society  was  still  organized  on  a 
Christian  basis ;  law,  however  imperfectly  administered,  stiL 
bound  the  members  of  society  into  a  political  union ;  and  edu- 
cation, though  fallen  off  from  its  ancient  excellence,  was  stil 


LITERATURE   OF  THE  BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  373 

looked  upon  as  a  duty  by  public  authorities  and  private  citizens. 
The  private  man,  with  his  family,  was  sheltered  from  arbitrary 
violence;  his  children  could  not  be  forced  away  from  him  to 
the  gilded  miseries  and  moral  death  of  the  seraglio.  The  force 
and  energy  of  the  early  Sultans,  and  their  occasional  generosity, 
impose  upon  our  imaginations,  when  contrasted  with  the  feeble 
characters  that  so  often  disgust  us  in  the  Byzantine  Greeks. 
We  feel  the  baseness  of  that  indifference  to  country  which  left 
Constantinople  to  be  defended  by  the  last  of  the  Empei'ors  and 
a  handful  of  men.  We  abhor  the  bigotry  which,  at  the  fatal 
moment,  forgot  the  despairing  cries  of  a  perishing  capital,  to 
wrangle  upon  senseless  questions  of  polemic  theology.  But 
still  that  last  of  the  Emperors  and  that  handful  of  men  stood  up 
bravely  in  the  midst  of  falling  battlements  and  streaming  blood, 
against  a  host  they  knew  they  could  not  resist ;  and  the  Em- 
peror, firm  to  his  duty  and  unshrinking  in  his  resolution,  closed 
the  long  line  of  his  royal  race  by  a  glorious  death  for  his  coun- 
try. The  old  Hellenic  spirit  had  not  yet  been  extinguished  in 
the  Constantines. 

Before  quitting  the  long  Byzantine  period,  permit  me  to  say 
a  parting  word  upon  the  literature  with  which  these  centuries 
are  signalized,  if  not  adorned.  The  literature  of  this  period 
consists  of,  first,  the  writings  of  the  Christian  Fathers ,  sec- 
ondly, the  Byzantine  Historians ;  and  thirdly,  the  Poets,  who, 
however,  in  some  cases  are  the  same  persons  that  constitute 
the  other  classes,  but  who  may  be  again  classified  in  two  sub- 
divisions, of  religious  and  secular  poets.  To  these  may  be 
added  a  few  romance-writers,  belonging  to  the  early  part  of 
the  period  from  the  fourth  to  the  ninth  century. 

We  have  already,  in  considering  another  topic,  observed  the 
fresh  impulse  imparted  by  Christianity  to  eloquence  in  the 
sermons  of  the  fathers  of  the  Church,  at  the  head  of  whom 
stands  the  great  and  fervid  Johannes  Chiysostomus.  The  best 
of  the  religious  writings  have  come  from  the  earliest  periods. 
Irenseus,  Clemens,  Origen,  Eusebius,  Athanasius,  and  Chry- 
sostomus  belong  to  the  first  four  centuries.     From  this  time 


■574  MODERN   GREECE. 

to  the  twelfth  century  the  writers  of  the  Church  neither  have 
the  same  authority,  nor  are  considered  as  possessing  equal 
literary  merit,  with  their  predecessors. 

The  Byzantine  historians  extend  from  the  fourth  nearly  to 
the  sixteenth  century,  if  we  include  the  few  who  wrote  after 
the  capture  of  Constantinople.  These  writers  furnish  the  im- 
mense mass  of  materials  of  which  Gibbon  made  so  admirable 
use  in  his  unequalled  History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the 
Roman  Empire.  The  most  convenient  edition  is  the  octavo 
reprint,  projected,  and  in  part  superintended,  by  Niebuhr,  and 
still  in  progress.  I  have  read  only  a  portion  of  these  writ- 
ers :  their  works  fill  some  fifty  or  more  volumes.  They  are 
quite  aside  from  the  usual  range  of  classical  studies,  and  are 
generally  neglected.  But  some  of  them  were  men  of  literary 
accomplishments,  honorable  characters,  and  large  experience 
in  affairs.  None  of  them,  so  far  as  my  reading  has  extended, 
equal  the  Attic  historians  in  the  high  qualities  of  natural 
and  lucid  style.  But  some  of  them  are  clear,  accurate,  instruc- 
tive, and  interesting.  Others,  in  striving  to  acquire  a  factitious 
elegance,  become  pompous  and  inflated.  Some  airnaj^-ihe 
antique  manner,  and  grow  affected ;  others,  writing  in  the  lan- 
guage of  their  times,  fall  into  the  corrupt  forms  of  the  vulgar 
Byzantine  Greek ;  and  others,  finally,  are  marked  by  all  the 
ppculiarities  of  idiom  and  construction  which  belong  to  the 
spoken  Greek  of  the  present  day.  In  passages  from  the  best, 
we  often  find  vivid  description  and  stirring  eloquence ;  in  the 
worst,  a  uniform  tediousness  almost  preternatural. 

Zosimus  wrote  on  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  Roman  Em- 
pire in  a  style  clear  and  concise ;  but  being  a  Pagan,  he  is 
described  by  Photius  as  "  impious  in  religion,  and  howling 
against  the  pious."  Procopius  lived  in  the  sixth  century,  and 
is  conspicuous  for  having  been  the  secretary  of  Belisarius, 
whom  he  accompanied  in  his  wars.  In  literary  ability  he  was, 
perhaps,  the  best  of  all  the  Byzantine  historians,  and  his  style 
makes  a  nearer  approach  than  that  of  any  other  among  them  to 
the  classic  models.     He  wrote  the  history  of  the  wars  with  the 


LITERATURE   OF  THE   BYZANTINE   PERIOD.  375 

Persians,  Vandals,  and  Goths,  besides  other  works,  particularly 
a  scandalous  chronicle  of  the  court.  Agathias,  a  lawyer  and 
scholar  of  the  same  century,  besides  love-poems  which  are  lost, 
wrote  a  continuation  of  the  history  of  Procopius,  in  a  some- 
what bombastic  style.  In  the  next  two  centuries  there_Js_ 
little  that  claims  attention.  It  was  an  evil  time  for  literature. 
In  the  ninth,  tenth,  and  eleventh  centuries  there  was  more 
literary  activity,  if  not  a  revival  of  letters.  The  ninth  century 
was  adorned  by  the  learning  of  Leo  of  Thessalonica,  whose 
scientific  attainments  caused  him  to  be  invited  to  Bagdad  by 
the  Khaliff  Al-Mamoun.  This  remarkable  man  invented  a 
mode  of  telegraphic  communication,  by  means  of  signal  fires, 
to  announce  particular  events  according  to  the  hours.  In 
the  tenth  century  reigned  the  lauded  and  excellent  Emperor 
Constantine  Porphyrogenitus,  who,  besides  being  a  connoisseur 
in  art,  wrote  many  important  works  on  history  and  administra- 
tion, and  labored  assiduously  to  encourage  literature,  and  to 
improve  the  education  of  the  times.  The  greatest  name  in  the 
eleventh  century  is  that  of  Michael  Psellus,  who  was  the  prod- 
igy of  his  age.  The  Emperor  gave  him  the  title  of  Prince 
of  Philosophers.  His  works  were  on  the  most  extraordinary 
variety  of  subjects,  —  theological,  philosophical,  mathematical, 
legal,  —  one  being  on  the  operation  of  demons.  Many  of  them 
still  remain  unpublished.  The  style  is  said  to  be  perspicuous, 
elegant,  and  worthy  of  a  better  age. 

To  the  twelfth  century  belong  Anna  Comnena,  and  her 
husband,  Nicephorus  Bryennius.  This  illustrious  pair  present 
a  pleasing  picture  of  happiness  and  literary  accomplishment, 
and  deserve  to  be  dwelt  upon  for  a  moment.  Bryennius  was 
a  Greek  nobleman,  of  a  family  distinguished  for  its  antiquity 
and  for  the  many  high  places  which  had  been  held  by  its  mem- 
bers. He  became  the  confidential  friend  and  adviser  of  the 
Emperor  Alexis  Comnenus,  immediately  upon  his  accession  to 
the  throne.  As  a  mark  of  his  respect,  the  Emperor  created  a 
new  title,  Panhypersebastos,  —  all-supc'Latively-august,  —  and, 
what  was  still  more  to  the  purpose,  bestowed  on  him  the  hand 


376  MODERN   GREECE. 

of  his  beautiful  daughter,  Anna  Comnena,  who  was  distin- 
guished equally  for  the  graces  of  her  person  and  for  her  intel- 
lectual accomplishments.  Bryennius  took  a  leading  part  in  the 
wars  of  the  age,  and  was  one  of  the  most  skilful  diplomatists 
at  the  imperial  court.  His  various  talents  and  his  affable  man- 
ners made  him  so  great  a  favorite,  that  his  ambitious  wife  en- 
deavored, but  without  success,  to  persuade  her  father  to  name 
him  his  successor ;  and  the  only  serious  censure  chargeable  upon 
his  life  is,  that  he  listened  to  her  suggestion,  and  endeavored 
to  deprive  his  young  brother-in-law  of  the  crown  on  the  death 
of  Alexis.  On  his  failure  in  this  attempt,  his  estates  were  con- 
fiscated, and  he  and  his  wife  were  banished  to  CEnoe,  on  the 
Black  Sea,  where  they  lived  in  retirement  for  several  years. 
He  was,  however,  restored  to  favor,  and  died  soon  afterward,  in 
1137,  at  Constantinople.  The  peculiar  interest  of  the  period  in 
which  he  lived  arises  from  the  circumstance  that  the  Crusades 
at  this  time  brought  the  Western  and  Eastern  powers  into  con- 
tact and  collision  ;  and  it  was  by  his  prudent  counsels  that  the 
Emperor  was  chiefly  guided  in  the  first  differences  between 
himself  and  the  crusading  princes.  Bryennius  wrote  a  history, 
in  four  books,  of  the  events  of  which  he  had  been  a  contem- 
porary and  in  great  part  an  eyewitness.  He  left  it  incom- 
plete, covering  a  period  of  a  little  ^more  than  twenty  years, 
from  about  1057  to  1078,  —  intending  to  bring  it  down  so  as 
to  include  the  reign  of  Alexis,  but  being  interrupted  by  death. 
"  This  mighty  task,"  says  he  to  his  mother-in-law,  the  Empress, 
"  thou,  my  wisest  intellect  and  inspiration,  hast  laid  upon  me  ; 
thou  hast  commanded  me  to  write  the  deeds  of  Alexis  the 
Great,  who,  having  fallen  on  troubled  times,  and  assuming  the 
power  when  the  affairs  of  the  Empire  were  fallen  to  the  earth, 
raised  them  up  and  reinstated  them  in  their  greatest  glory. 
....  I  dare  not  presume  to  write  his  history,  or  to  compose 
a  eulogy  on  him  ;  for  this  scarcely  would  the  power  of  Thu- 
cydides  and  the  eloquence  of  Demosthenes  suffice.  I  under- 
take only  to  furnish  the  means  to  those  who  desire  to  celebrate 
his  deeds ;  and  therefore  let  this  work  be  called  the  materials 


LITERATURE   OF  THE  BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  377 

of  history."  Notwithstanding  the  modest  estimate  he  professes 
to  entertain  of  his  own  ability,  his  work  is  written  in  a  very 
manly  style,  and  shows  the  experience  of  a  person  versed  in 
affairs,  and  the  calm  and  cool  judgment  of  the  philosophic 
statesman. 

Anna  Comnena  was  considerably  younger  than  her  husband, 
having  been  born  in  1083.  She  was  celebrated  as  the  loveliest 
woman  in  the  highest  society  of  Constantinople  ;  and  her  ac- 
complishments in  literature  were  no  less  the  admiration  of  the 
scholars,  philosophers,  and  poets  by  whom  she  was  surrounded 
The  domestic  happiness  she  enjoyed  is  certainly  a  remarkable 
and  bright  spot  in  the  abounding  degeneracy  of  the  age.  Her 
married  life  lasted  more  than  forty  years,  and  the  only  interrup- 
tion to  its  felicity  was  its  close  by  the  death  of  her  husband. 
Her  palace  was  the  resort  of  the  literary  men  and  of  the  most 
brilliant  society,  and  the  centre  of  the  art  and  science  of  Con- 
stantinople for  many  years.  She  survived  her  husband,  and 
worthily  employed  the  remainder  of  her  life  in  finishing  the 
task  he  had  left  incomplete  at  his  death.  It  is  the  Life  of  her 
father  Alexis,  —  under  the  name  of  the  Alexiad ;  and,  though 
abounding  in  rhetorical  faults,  it  is  a  work  of  deep  interest. 
She  writes  with  the  particularity  of  a  daughter,  and  —  I  must 
add  —  with  a  good  deal  of  the  vanity  of  a  blue-stocking,  — 
presenting  in  this  respect  a  strong  contrast  to  the  simple  and 
honest  style  of  her  husband.  For  him  she  cherished  the  most 
unbounded  affection  as  long  as  she  lived.  She  describes  him 
as  a  man  surpassing  in  personal  beauty,  fineness  of  understand- 
ing, and  eloquence  of  speech  all  that  lived  in  his  time,  as  a 
wonder  to  look  at  and  listen  to,  and  in  all  respects  a  most  dis- 
tinguished person.  She  then  recounts  the  circumstances  under 
which  he  began  his  history,  and  its  interruption  by  his  death. 
—  " a  misfortune  to  the  subject,"  she  adds,  "and  the  loss  ot 
much  pleasure  to  the  readers.  What  harmony  and  what 
grace  were  in  his  words,  those  know  best  who  were  most 
familur  with  his  writings."  She  attributes  his  death  to  his 
unceasing  labors,  and  his  exposure  daring  the  long  campaigns 


378  MODERN  GREECE. 

in  which  he  had  served.  In  writing  these  things,  her  soui. 
she  says,  is  wrung  with  sorrow,  and  her  eyes  fill  with  tears, 
as  she  recalls  to  memory  the  graces  of  his  person  and  the  gifts 
of  his  mind,  worthy  of  a  higher  than  royal  dignity.  Her  afflic- 
tion would  move  the  hardest  heart  to  sympathy.  But  she 
wipes  her  tears,  and  commences  her  task. 

The  work  is  certainly  a  remarkable  illustration  of  the  liter- 
ary culture  of  the  twelfth  century,  and  proves,  what  has  before 
been  stated,  that  the  women  of  the  higher  classes  were  care- 
fully trained  in  literary  discipline.  The  narrative  is  generally 
clear,  though  at  times  a  little  too  ambitious  and  turgid ;  and 
the  period  embraced  by  the  work  is  of  commanding  interest, 
especially  the  latter  part,  which  comprehends  the  Crusades. 
It  has  something  of  the  spirit  of  hero-worship  and  self-wor- 
ship ;  and  when  she  enlarges  on  her  own  accomplishments,  one 
is  tempted  to  smile.  But  remembering  that  she  was  an  Em- 
peror's daughter,  and  surrounded  through  a  long  life  by  the 
adulations  of  a  luxurious  court,  that  she  was  beautiful  beyond 
her  contemporaries,  and  that  amidst  all  these  dangerous  influ- 
ences she  kept  the  purity  of  her  character  untainted,  exhibited 
a  lofty  example  of  domestic  virtue,  and  cherished  with  undi- 
minished ardor  the  common  affections  of  daily  life,  which  grace 
the  highest  station,  while  they  lend  a  sanctity  to  the  lowliest,  — 
we  may  admit  that  her  vanity  is  pardonable  and  her  pedantry 
not  without  excuse.  A  few  sentences  will  show  the  style  into 
which  she  rose,  when  she  aimed  at  being  particularly  fine. 
It  is  fair  to  say  that  the  whole  book  is  by  no  means  in  this 
vein. 

"  Time,  rolling  on  irresistibly  and  forever,  whirls  and  sweeps 
away  all  existing  things,  and  sinks  them  in  the  depths  of  ob- 
livion, where  lie  both  those  of  little  worth  and  those  which 
are  great  and  deserving  of  remembrance,  —  or,  as  the  tragedy 
hath  it,  brings  to  light  the  hidden  things,  and  hides  those  that 
are  conspicuous.  But  the  word  of  history  is  the  strongest  dike 
against  the  stream  of  time,  and  checks  its  mighty  current,  bind- 
ing up  and  holding  together  what  is  therein,  that  it  may  not 


LITERATURE   OF   THE  BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  379 

glide  down  into  the  depths  of  Lethe.  Knowing  this,  I,  Anna, 
daughter  of  the  imperial  Alexis  and  Eirene,  child  and  nurs 
ling  of  the  purple,  not  unskilled  in  letters,  but  accomplished  in 
the  Greek  to  the  highest  perfection,  —  not  unpractised  in  rhet- 
oric, but  having  carefully  read  the  treatises  of  Aristotle  and 
the  Dialogues  of  Plato,  —  and  having  strengthened  my  intellect 
by  the  quaternion  of  the  sciences,  (for  it  is  my  duty,  and  not 
a  matter  of  self-glorification,  to  set  forth  those  qualifications 
which  either  nature  or  the  study  of  the  sciences  has  given  me, 
or  God  has  bestowed  on.  me  from  above,  or  occasion  has  con- 
tributed,)—  I,  Anna,  desire,  in  this  my  composition,  to  narrate 
the  deeds  of  my  father,  undeserving  to  be  betrayed  to  forget- 
ful ness,  or  swept  away  by  the  stream  of  time  into  the  ocean 
of  oblivion." 

Compare  this  with  the  modest  sentences  I  read  from  Bryen- 
nius,  and  the  difference  is  certainly  curious;  but  when  we  come 
to  read  the  two  works,  we  find  that  his  is  much  better  than  he 
thought  it,  and  hers  much  better  than  the  above  specimen  of 
her  style  would  lead  us  to  expect ;  and  that  the  husband  and 
wife  stand  out  from  their  age,  forming  a  picture  not  without  its 
beauty  and  interest,  and  far  superior  to  anything  we  know  of 
in  the  contemporary  chivalry  of  Western  Europe. 

I  will  mention  only  one  more  of  these  writers,  Laonicus 
Chalcocondyles,  who  belongs  to  the  fifteenth  century.  Very 
few  incidents  of  his  life  have  been  preserved,  except  that  he 
was  a  native  of  Athens,  was  employed  by  the  Emperor  John 
Palaeologus  VII.  as  ambassador  to  Amurath  II.  in  1446,  that 
he  probably  lived  till  towards  the  end  of  the  century,  and  con- 
sequently witnessed  the  downfall  of  Constantinople,  the  con- 
quest of  Greece,  and  perhaps  the  overthrow  of  Trebizond  by 
the  Turks.  He  seems  to  have  remained  in  Constantinople,  01 
to  have  returned  after  the  Sultan  had  introduced  some  degree 
of  order  into  the  affairs  of  the  capital ;  and  he  formed  one  of 
the  small  circle  of  literarj  men  who  still  kept  up  the  spirit  of 
ancient  scholarship.  He  wrote  a  work,  in  ten  books,  on  the 
history  of  the  Turks,  from  their  origin  down  to  the  conquests 


380  MODERN    GREECE. 

of  Mahomet  II. ;  and  the  best  critics  have  pronounced  it  emi- 
nently worthy  of  credit.  He  was  a  wise  and  sound  judge  of  af- 
fairs, and  a  scholar  of  great  and  various  learning ;  and  his  work 
is  one  of  the  best  sources  of  materials  for  the  history  of  the  de- 
cline of  the  Greek  Empire.  His  style  is  not  perfectly  simple, 
but  affects  too  much  the  classical  phraseology  of  antiquity.  We 
feel  the  labor  of  the  writer  a  little  more  than  we  could  wish ; 
but  he  is  perspicuous,  and  in  many  places  exceedingly  inter- 
esting and  animated.  He  introduces  here  and  there  curious 
episodes  about  the  condition  and  character  of  the  Western 
nations,  sometimes  correct,  and  always  worthy  of  attention 
as  coming  from  an  Athenian  writer  of  the  fifteenth  century. 
Germany,  France,  and  England  are  described  with  some  mi- 
nuteness of  detail ;  and  it  may  not  be  without  use  to  hear  a 
part  of  what  he  says  concerning  the  land  of  our  fathers.  After 
describing  the  geographical  position  and  political  arrangements 
of  the  British  Isles,  he  says :  "  The  king  could  not  easily  take 
away  his  principality  from  any  one  of  the  great  lords,  nor 
would  they  submit  to  him  contrary  to  their  own  usages.  The 
kingdom  has  suffered  many  calamities  from  civil  wars.  The 
island  does  not  produce  wine  nor  many  fruits  ;  but  it  bears 
corn  and  barley  and  honey.  They  have  the  most  beautiful 
wool  in  the  world,  so  that  they  weave  immense  quantities 
of  cloth.  They  speak  a  language  that  resembles  no  other ; 
neither  German,  nor  French,  nor  that  of  any  of  the  surround- 
ing nations.  They  have  a  custom  throughout  the  island,  that, 
when  a  visitor  enters  the  house  of  a  friend,  the  wife  receives 
him  with  a  kiss,  as  a  preliminary  to  the  hospitalities  of  the 
Uouse.  The  city  of  London  is  the  most  powerful  and  prosper- 
ous of  all  the  cities  in  these  islands,  and  inferior  to  none  in  the 
West ;  and  in  the  martial  valor  of  its  inhabitants  it  is  superior 
to  all  who  live  towards  the  setting  sun."  He  gives  many  other 
particulars,  but  these  are  the  most  characteristic.  He  evi- 
dently did  not  understand  the  English  language,  and  probably 
was  mistaken  as  to  some  of  the  customs  of  the  country,  or  they 
iiave  changed  since  his  day ;   but  his  notices  of  the  industry 


LITERATURE   OF  THE   BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  381 

and  martial  virtues  of  the  English  people  show  that  the  pres- 
ent generation  inherit  honestly  the  qualities  that  have  made 
them  the  foremost  power  in  the  world. 

In  an  historical  point  of  view,  the  most  striking  part  of  thir 
very  interesting  work  is  the  minute,  graphic,  and  vivid  de- 
scription, in  the  eighth  book,  of  the  capture  and  sack  of  Con- 
stantinople. It  seems  to  me  far  more  affecting  than  the  stately 
picture  which  Gibbon  has  given  of  this  great  event ;  because 
it  evinces  that  sense  of  its  reality  which  an  eyewitness  of  so 
tremendous  a  tragedy  must  forever  retain,  and  that  profound 
sympathy  with  its  horrors  and  sufferings  which  a  patriot  and  a 
victim  cannot  but  feel  whenever  he  calls  up  the  image  of  so  dire 
a  catastrophe  ;  and  when  he  says  at  the  conclusion,  "  Such  were 
the  events  that  befell  the  Greeks  of  Byzantium,  and  this  disas- 
ter appears  to  me  to  surpass  in  woe  all  that  have  ever  hap- 
pened in  the  world,"  he  carries  the  reader  along  with  him, 
and  we  close  the  book  with  a  feeling  of  pity  and  terror  which 
the  downfall  of  a  nation  ought  always  to  inspire. 

The  poetical  character  of  this  period  is  not  without  its  attrac- 
tion ;  but  there  is  not  much  to  detain  us  long.  Of  the  religious 
poetry  the  best  and  most  elegant  is  that  of  Synesius,  from  the 
first  of  whose  ten  extant  hymns  I  read  an  extract  in  a  former 
course.     The  second  —  a  morning  hymn  —  begins  thus  :  — 

"  Again  the  light,  again  the  morning, 
Again  the  day  abroad  is  shining, 
After  the  nightly  wandering  shade. 
Again,  my  soul,  thy  prayer  lift  up 
In  morning  hymns  to  God, 
Who  gave  the  light  to  morning, 
Who  gave  the  stars  to  evening,  — 
The  universal  choir." 

There  is  a  good  deal  of  this  poetry  scattered  through  the 
Christian  writings  of  the  following  centuries,  and  it  would  be 
worth  the  scholar's  while  to  make  it  the  subject  of  special  in- 
restigation.  Passing  over  about  four  centuries,  to  the  time  of 
Theodore  Studita,  from  whose  Diatheke  I  read  an  extract  in 


S82  MCDERN   GREECE. 

the  last  Lecture,  we  find  a  considerable  change  in  the  tone  of 
relio-ious  poetry.  The  monastic  system  had  now  firmly  estab- 
lished itself  throughout  Eastern  Europe  ;  and  the  virtues  of 
monastic  life  occupied  a  high  place  in  the  scale  of  Christian 
graces.  This  good  monk,  with  many  other  writings,  left  one 
hundred  and  twenty-four  short  pieces,  mostly  written  in  iambic 
measure,  but  with  no  great  regard  to  the  ancient  laws  of  quan- 
tity. It  appears  from  one  of  these  that  he  had  been  a  husband 
and  a  father,  but  that  he  and  his  wife  were  both  so  impressed 
with  the  duty  of  devoting  themselves  wholly  to  the  service  of 
God,  that  they  had  separated,  and,  with  their  children,  had 
consecrated  themselves  to  ascetic  piety.  In  the  poem  referred 
to,  written  after  her  death,  the  highest  praise  he  bestows  upon 
her  is  that  she  agreed  with  her  husband  to  suffer  divorce  for 
Christ's  sake,  and  to  embrace  the  monastic  life.  He  wrote 
inscriptions  for  monasteries  and  for  pictures  of  saints,  of  which 
he  was  a  fervent  advocate  ;  epitaphs  on  the  dead,  full  of  pious 
ejaculations  ;  lines  addressed  to  the  rich,  to  the  poor,  to  the 
worldly,  to  travellers,  to  the  various  servitors  in  the  monas- 
tery. The  cook  is  exhorted  to  season  his  dishes  with  prayers 
for  sauce,  that  he  may  share  in  Jacob's  benediction  ;  the  tailors, 
or  wardrobe-keepers,  are  told  in  iambics  to  see  to  it  that  they 
perforin  their  duty  faithfully,  that  they  may  receive  requital 
due  from  God,  the  Giver ;  the  waiter  at  table  is  bidden  to  im- 
agine that  he  is  ministering  to  the  Apostles.  Equally  apposite 
instructions  are  bestowed  on  early  wakers.  The  shoemakers 
are  charged  to  labor  as  becomes  the  workmen  of  Christ,  —  to 
cut  their  leather  decently,  to  repair  old  shoes  and  stitch  to- 
gether new,  and  not  to  indulge  in  idle  talk.  The  best  poem 
of  this  class,  perhaps,  is  an  inscription  over  an  inn,  or  recep- 
tion-room for  strangers,  extending  large  and  hospitable  invita- 
tion to  the  wearied  passers-by,  and  asking,  in  return  for 

"  The  wholesome  bread  that  nourishes  the  heart, 
The  sweet  wine  flowing  so  abundantly, 
The  garment  shielding  from  the  rigid  cold, 
Which  Christ,  my  Master,  gave  from  affluent  stores," 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  BYZANTINE  PERIOD.  383 

tiily  the  traveller's  prayers  that  the  host  may  be  received  into 
Abraham's  bosom.  There  are  touching  lines  in  some  of  th« 
epitaphs,  such  as  these  on  a  pious  lady :  — 

"  The  ornament  she  wore,  a  lowly  heart ; 
Her  precious  pearls,  the  flowing  tears  she  shed. 
With  sleepless  eye,  and  prayer  to  light  her  way, 
She  dwells  in  joy  forever  with  the  just " ;  — 

or  these  on  Eirene,  —  a  name  which  signifies  peace  :  — 

"  Sacred  the  spot,  Eirene's  tomb  is  here, 
Whose  life  was  guided  to  the  God  of  Peace." 

Many  of  these  verses  are  decidedly  prosaic  both  in  thought 
and  in  expression ;  but  the  religious  tone  that  runs  through 
them  is  chai-acteristic  of  the  author  and  of  his  age. 


LECTUEE  VII. 

BYZANTINE  SCHOLAKSHIP.  —  GREECE  UNDER  THE  TURKS. 

The  fall  of  Constantinople  sent  a  shock  throughout  the 
Christian  nations  of  Western  Europe.  Thoughtful  men  must 
have  felt  that  bigotry,  combining  with  the  lust  of  conquest 
and  the  savage  greed  for  plunder,  on  the  part  of  Western 
Christendom,  had  helped  forward  this  great  catastrophe.  The 
capture  of  Constantinople  by  the  Crusaders  had  destroyed  the 
most  precious  memorials  of  ancient  art  and  wealth  in  the  city, 
exhausted  its  resources,  broken  down  its  martial  energy,  and 
divided  the  Empire  into  fragments  for  the  benefit  of  their  own 
princes,  expelling  the  native  rulers  who  had  so  long  sat  upon 
the  throne ;  and  when,  sixty  years  later,  they  were  themselves 
driven  back  from  a  conquest  they  had  wrongfully  held,  the 
Emperors  of  Constantinople  resumed  an  empire  shorn  of  its 
power  and  splendor  not  only  by  Saracens  and  Turks,  but  more 
fatally  still  by  Christians  of  another  branch  of  one  common 
faith ;  so  that,  when  the  final  struggle  came,  the  only  wonder 
was,  that  a  capital  over  which  conflagration  and  plunder  had  so 
often  swept  resisted  so  long  and  with  so  much  spirit  a  people 
in  the  full  impulse  of  their  march  towards  extended  empire. 

The  possession  of  Constantinople  seemed  to  throw  Hungary, 
Italy,  and  Germany  open  to  invasion ;  and  the  spiritual  and 
temporal  powers  were  greatly  and  justly  alarmed  at  the  threat- 
ening consequences  of  what  they  had  themselves  allowed  to  be 
done.  The  Pope  endeavored  in  vain  to  combine  the  nations 
of  Europe  for  the  expulsion  of  the  Turks.  War  was  actually 
declared  in  the  Diet  at  Frankfort,  in  1454  ;  but  this  was  all. 
Pius  II.  convened  a  Congress  at  Mantua  in  1459 ;    and  the 


BYZANTINE   SCHOLARSHIP.  385 

princes  of  Europe  agreed  to  furnish  large  means  for  the 
Crusade,  which  the  Pope  was  to  lead  in  person  ;  but  when 
the  head  of  the  Church  arrived  at  Ancona  to  embark,  he  found 
that  every  promise  and  engagement  had  been  violated,  and  none 
were  there  except  a  rabble  of  vagabonds,  clamoring  for  service 
and  pay.  So  the  late-formed  plans  of  repairing  the  error 
which  was  now  threatening  the  peace  of  Europe  utterly  failed. 
The  danger,  however,  proved  less  than  had  been  anticipated. 
Mahomet  II.  met  with  gallant  resistance  from  the  Hungari- 
ans, and  was  repulsed  by  the  Knights  of  St.  John  from  the 
island  of  Rhodes.  In  the  mountains  of  Epeirus  the  heroic 
chieftain  whose  exploits  were  sung  by  all  his  contemporaries 
under  the  name  of  Scanderbeg  kept  him  at  bay  for  twenty 
years.  The  successors  of  Mahomet  were  inferior  to  him  in 
martial  vigor ;  and  thus  the  tide  of  Ottoman  conquests  was  at 
least  temporarily  stayed,  and  the  alarm  of  Europe  somewhat 
quieted. 

From  the  downfall  of  the  Western  Roman  Empire,  and  es- 
pecially after  the  alienation  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  Churches, 
the  influence  of  Greek  literature  had  been  decaying,  until  al- 
most all  knowledge  of  it  had  died  out  in  the  West.  Only  here 
and  there  a  name  is  mentioned  among  the  few  who  kept  alive 
a  love  of  letters  in  Europe,  as  having  some  tincture  of  Grecian 
learning.  In  the  East,  libraries  of  manuscripts,  formed  by  the 
labors  of  centuries,  were  to  be  found,  not  only  in  the  schools  of 
public  instruction,  but  in  the  monasteries.  The  ancient  classics 
had  been  multiplied  in  parchment  copies,  carefully  and  hand- 
somely transcribed  by  the  inmates  of  these  institutions  ;  but 
many  of  these  perished  in  the  successive  plunderings  of  the 
capital ;  and  the  final  loss  of  a  large  proportion  of  the  most 
precious  treasures  of  ancient  genius  is  to  be  traced  to  the  bar- 
barous conduct  of  the  Crusaders,  whose  very  names  Anna 
Comnena  thought  it  an  insult  to  the  Greek  language  to  record, 
and  of  the  Ottomans,  whose  agency  was  scarcely  more  de- 
structive. But  before  either  of  these  pillaging  enterprises  took 
place,  now  and  then  an    individual  found   his  way  from  the 

vol.  ii.  25 


886  MODERN   GREECE. 

tichoola  of  Constantinople,  with  a  supply  of  Greek  literature, 
and,  establishing  himself  in  the  West,  communicated  his  treas- 
ures to  a  little  circle  of  pupils  and  friends.  As  early  as  the 
seventh  century  the  Pope  sent  to  England  a  Greek  ecclesiastic, 
born  at  Tarsus,  who  became  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and, 
having  carried  with  him  a  goodly  number  of  manuscripts,  intro- 
duced some  knowledge  of  Greek  into  the  Anglo-Saxon  Church, 
The  venerable  Bede  and  Alcuin  are  bright  names  among  the 
earliest  restorers  of  learning ;  and  Erigena  and  other  Irish 
ecclesiastics  knew  something  even  of  the  philosophy  of  Plato 
and  Aristotle.  In  1240,  John  Basing,  Archdeacon  of  St.  Al- 
bans, brought  a  number  of  Greek  books  from  Athens  ;  and 
Roger  Bacon  was  not  ignorant  of  the  Greek  language. 

But  during  the  Middle  Ages  these  studies  were  more  assid- 
uously cultivated  in  Italy,  as  might  have  been  expected,  than 
in  any  other  country  out  of  the  Byzantine  Empire.  Particu- 
larly, from  the  eleventh  century,  many  individuals  are  marked 
in  literary  history  for  their  knowledge  of  Greek,  —  not  very 
extensive,  to  be  sure,  but  still  worth  something.  Among  these, 
for  instance,  Papias  is  classed  on  the  strength  of  a  quotation 
of  five  lines  from  Hesiod.  But  the  revival  of  Greek  studies 
in  Italy  properly  dates  from  the  time  of  Petrarch  and  Boc- 
caccio, in  the  fourteenth  century.  Italy  was  visited  by  many 
Greek  ecclesiastics,  who  adhered  to  the  Roman  pontiff  in  the 
quarrel  between  the  two  Churches ;  and  there  are  to  this  day, 
both  in  Ancona  and  in  Rome,  Greek  churches  with  a  Greek 
liturgy,  but  acknowledging  the  supreme  authority  of  the  Pope. 
Several  learned  Calabrians,  about  this  time,  after  having  long 
resided  in  Greece,  had  much  to  do  with  the  introduction  of 
the  Greek  language  among  the  scholars  and  poets  of  Italy. 
Barlaam,  sent  as  ambassador  by  the  Emperor  to  Italy,  en- 
deavored to  teach  Petrarch  Greek  ;  but  whether  the  poet  was 
too  much  absorbed  in  his  fantastic  passion  for  Laura,  and  in  the 
composition  of  those  tiresome  sonnets  which  every  one  thinks 
it  his  duty  to  praise  and  few  have  the  patience  to  read,  it  is 
certain,  from  his  own  confession,  that  the  tuneful  poet  never 


BYZANTINE   SCHOLARSHIP.  387 

advanced  far  enough  to  read  Homer  in  the  original,  which 
he  pathetically  laments,  and  for  which  he  richly  deserved  the 
wholesome  administration  of  the  birch.  Boccaccio  had  better 
success  with  Lcontius  Pilatus,  for  whom  he  procured  the  ap- 
pointment of  public  teacher  at  Florence,  although  he  describes 
him  as  long-haired,  hirsute-bearded,  and  very  dirty.  About 
the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century,  Manuel  Chrysoloras,  a 
man  of  high  rank  and  distinguished  in  the  diplomacy  of  the 
Byzantine  Empire,  was  induced  to  emigrate  to  Italy,  and 
taught  the  Greek  language  and  literature  in  several  of  the 
principal  cities.  Among  his  scholars  were  the  most  eminent 
Italian  men  of  letters.  In  1423,  two  hundred  and  thirty-eight 
manuscripts,  including  Plato,  Diodorus,  Pindar,  Callimachus, 
and  others,  were  brought  from  Greece  to  Italy  by  a  Sicilian 
named  Aurispa.  Filelfo,  a  scholar  well  known  in  literary  his- 
tory in  the  same  age,  not  only  brought  home  from  Greece  a 
large  number  of  manuscripts,  but  became  Professor  of  Greek 
and  Latin  at  Florence,  exciting,  as  he  himself  says,  the  wonder 
and  admiration  of  the  whole  city.  "  All  love  me,"  continued 
the  self-complacent  professor,  "  all  honor  me,  and  exalt  me  to 
the  skies  with  their  praises.  When  I  walk  through  the  city, 
not  only  the  first  citizens,  but  the  noblest  ladies,  yield  me  the 
pass  to  show  in  what  high  honor  they  hold  me.  I  have  daily 
more  than  four  hundred  hearers  ;  and  these,  for  the  most  part, 
distinguished  persons  and  of  senatorial  rank." 

As  the  dangers  that  threatened  the  overthrow  of  the  Greek 
Empire  drew  nearer,  emigration  to  Italy  became  more  fre- 
quent. Theodore  Gaza,  well  known  in  Greek  philology,  fled 
from  Thessalonica  in  1430,  when  that  city  was  taken  by  the 
Turks.  Bessarion  of  Ti'ebizond  was  made  a  cardinal  in  1439, 
twice  was  nearly  elected  Pope,  and,  having  been  employed  in 
many  high  functions,  received  from  the  Pope,  who  affected 
to  consider  himself  sole  head  of  the  Church,  the  titular  dignity 
of  Patriarch  of  Constantinople.  He  was  a  great  promoter  of 
Greek  literature;  and,  wherever  he  lived,  his  home  was  the 
resort  of  all  those  who  cultivated  the  sciences  and  the  arts. 


388  MODERN   GREECE. 

In  1468  he  presented  his  magnificent  library  to  the  republic 
of  Venice,  and  the  famous  Aldine  editions  of  the  classics  are 
founded  chiefly  on  the  manuscripts  it  contained.  Here,  too, 
the  manuscript  of  Panaretos,  mentioned  in  a  former  Lecture, 
was  found  by  Professor  Fallmerayer.  George  of  Trebizond 
taught  Greek  at  Vicenza,  Venice,  and  Rome.  Johannes  Argy- 
ropoulos,  a  native  of  Constantinople,  arrived  in  Italy  in  1434, 
and  was  called  by  the  Medici  to  Florence  in  1456.  He  went 
to  Paris  to  solicit  the  assistance  cf  the  king  of  France  in  pur- 
chasing his  family,  who  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Turks. 
He  taught  Greek  for  fifteen  years  at  Florence,  and  afterwards 
for  some  time  at  Rome.  Here,  the  celebrated  Reuchlin  being 
present  at  one  of  his  lectures  on  Thucydides,  the  old  Professor 
invited  the  young  German  to  interpret  a  passage  of  the  histo- 
rian. He  was  so  much  astonished  at  the  facility  with  which 
Reuchlin  accomplished  the  task,  that  he  exclaimed,  "  Exiled 
Greece  has  crossed  the  Alps."  Gemistus  Pletho,  a  man  of  the 
highest  rank  at  the  imperial  court,  of  great  learning  and  probity 
of  character,  and  a  voluminous  writer,  went  to  Florence  as  a 
deputy  of  the  Greek  Church  in  1438,  where  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  Cosmo  de'  Medici,  and  during  his  residence 
there  opened  a  school  for  the  explanation  of  the  Platonic  phi- 
losophy, of  which  he  was  an  ardent  and  eloquent  advocate. 
Cosmo  embraced  his  views,  and  Platonism  became  the  fashion 
of  the  literary  people  of  that  capital.  The  Platonic  Academy, 
which  produced  many  eminent  scholars,  owes  its  origin  to  Ple- 
tho. He  afterwards  returned  to  Greece,  and  died  in  the  Pelo- 
ponnesus, at  the  age,  it  is  supposed,  of  about  a  hundred  years. 
These  few  names  will  serve  to  show  that  the  literary  ten- 
dencies of  Italy  were  favorable  to  progress,  and  that  the  diplo- 
matic intercourse  between  the  Churches  of  Rome  and  Byzan- 
tium, the  interchange  of  visits  among  the  literary  men  of  the 
two  countries,  and  the  introduction  of  numerous  manuscripts 
from  Greece  and  Constantinople  into  the  chief  Italian  cities, 
had  aiade  a  great  and  almost  providential  preparation  for 
those  Greek  scholars,  who,  having  witnessed  the  downfall  o» 


BYZANTINE   SCHOLARSHIP.  389 

their  political  and  religious  capital,  and  the  extinction  of  their 
nationality,  in  slavery  and  blood,  fled  westward,  and  carried 
with  them  the  light  of  the  East. 

Of  course,  the  number  of  Greek  refugees  was  very  consid- 
erable after  the  fall  of  Constantinople.  Constantine  Lascaris, 
belonging  to  one  of  the  imperial  families,  became  instructor  of 
the  Princess  Hippolyta,  daughter  of  Francesco  Sforza,  Duke 
of  Milan.  Afterward  he  taught  in  several  of  the  Italian 
cities,  and  finally  died  at  Messina,  having  bequeathed  his  li- 
brary to  that  city.  It  was  afterwards  transported  to  Spain, 
and  now  forms  part  of  the  collection  of  the  Escorial.  Another 
Lascaris,  a  relative  of  Constantine,  was  employed  by  Lorenzo 
de'  Medici  in  collecting  books  in  the  East,  and  was  afterwards 
distinguished  at  the  courts  of  Charles  VIII.  and  Louis  XII. 
in  France.  When  Leo  X.  was  raised  to  the  Papal  throne, 
he  placed  Lascaris  at  the  head  of  a  college  which  he  had 
founded  at  Rome  for  the  education  of  Greeks.  The  Pope,  in 
a  letter  addressed  to  Francis  I.,  describes  Lascaris  as  a  man 
distinguished  for  his  illustrious  birth,  his  literary  acquirements, 
his  experience  in  affairs,  the  purity  of  his  morals,  and  the  gen- 
tleness of  his  manners.  He  died  at  Rome,  at  the  age  of  ninety. 
Demetrius  Chalcocondyles,  an  Athenian,  and  perhaps  a  rela- 
tive of  the  historian,  taught  Greek  at  Perugia  and  Florence, 
and  afterwards  removed  to  Milan.  Other  distinguished  names 
are  those  of  Michael  Apostolius,  Callistus,  and  Masurus,  Pro- 
fessor of  Greek  at  Padua,  where  he  knew  Erasmus,  who  speaks 
of  him  as  wonderfully  learned  in  the  Latin  tongue,  —  afterward, 
at  Venice,  an  assistant  of  the  elder  Aldus  in  the  publication  of 
his  beautiful  editions.  Moschus,  a  Lacedaemonian,  son  of  an  old 
teacher  who  continued  at  Sparta  after  the  catastrophe  of  1453, 
was  Professor  of  Greek  at  Ferrara  and  Mantua,  and  wrote 
a  poem  on  the  story  of  Helen.  In  the  same  century  the 
Greek  language  was  taught  in  Paris  by  Hermonymus  of  Sparta, 
and  other  scholars  of  the  same  nation.  In  1474  Contablacus 
opened  a  school  in  Basle.  The  scholars  of  Germany,  hearing 
of  the  literary  excitement  produced  by  these  Greeks,  hastened 


390  MODERN   GREECE. 

over  into  Italy,  became  their  pupils,  and  purchased  many  bocks, 
with  which  they  enriched  the  libraries  of  their  native  land 
The  most  eminent  of  these  was  Reuchlin,  one  of  the  ablest,  if 
not  the  ablest,  among  the  restorers  of  learning  in  Germany 
but  his  name  is  now  chiefly  known  from  its  connection  with 
the  controversy  that  once  raged  on  the  pronunciation  of  the 
Greek. 

Now,  I  think  that  a  race  which,  at  the  very  moment  of  its 
fall,  was  capable  of  enlightening  the  world,  whose  services  were 
eagerly  sought  by  the  most  illustrious  cities  and  rulers  among 
the  rising  nations  of  modern  Europe,  which  laid  the  foundation 
of  the  rich  culture  since  developed  in  Italy,  Germany,  France, 
and  England,  is  entitled  to  more  respectful  treatment  than  the 
Greeks  of  the  Byzantine  Empire  usually  receive  from  histori- 
ans. For  the  second  time  in  the  history  of  civilization,  the  arts 
and  letters  that  embellish  life  were  scattered  by  the  Greeks  over 
the  world,  after  a  tremendous  national  catastrophe ;  and  for  the 
second  time  the  recipient  world,  having  eagerly  availed  itself 
of  the  proffered  benefactions,  requited  the  unfortunate  race 
from  which  the  benefactions  came  with  the  most  unmeasured 
denunciations,  insomuch  that  the  very  name  of  Greek  became 
synonymous  with  all  that  is  mean,  treacherous,  and  false.  I 
confess  I  cannot  so  read  the  history  of  the  Byzantine  Empire. 
Its  rulers,  bad  as  they  were,  were  better  than  their  contempo- 
raries in  the  West.  Its  arts,  declining  as  they  were,  were  su- 
perior to  the  arts  of  the  West.  Its  historians,  with  all  their 
faults,  were  quite  beyond  measure  better  in  the  qualities  of  lit- 
erary skill,  political  experience,  and  manly  judgment  than  the 
rude  chroniclers  of  the  West.  The  Church  of  the  East,  far 
as  it  had  fallen  from  the  simple  purity  of  the  apostolic  times, 
yet  in  doctrine  and  practice  bore  a  favorable  comparison  with 
the  Church  of  the  West;  and,  retaining  as  it  did  the  very  lan- 
guage of  the  New  Testament,  teaching  the  very  words  of  the 
sacred  writers,  and  opposing  no  obstacle  to  the  general  study 
of  those  blessed  records,  it  evidently  stood  on  a  higher  ground, 
in  some  very  important  respects,  than  its  Latin  riva.  anft 
enemv. 


GREECE   UNDER   THE   TURKS.  391 

It  was  mentioned  in  the  last  Lecture  that,  at  the  time  when 
Mahomet  II.  invaded  the  Peloponnesus,  the  Venetians  were 
still  in  possession  of  some  places  on  the  Peninsula.  The}'  held, 
in  fact,  Pylos,  Corone,  Methone,  Nauplia,  and  Argos,  besides 
the  Ionian  Islands,  Naupactus,  Euboea,  and  Crete.  The  Ve- 
netians and  Turks  soon  engaged  in  a  desperate  struggle,  tem- 
porarily suspended  by  the  armistice  of  1478,  which  lasted 
about  twenty  years,  into  the  reign  of  Mahomet's  son  and  suc- 
cessor, Bajazet.  The  condition  of  the  Greeks  during  these 
destructive  wars  was  unsettled  in  the  extreme.  Many  places 
in  Greece  changed  masters  frequently  during  this  period. 
Sometimes  the  Greeks  took  part  with  the  Christians  in  the 
struggle ;  and  when  the  Christians  were  conquered,  of  course 
the  Greeks  suffered  the  most  barbarous  treatment  at  the  hands 
of  the  Turks.  If  they  remained  neutral,  the  heaviest  calamities 
of  the  war  fell  upon  them.  By  degrees  the  Turks  obtained 
possession  of  Greece,  and  of  the  islands,  except  those  along  the 
western  coast  which  now  constitute  the  Ionian  Republic.  Eu- 
boea was  conquered  in  1470  ;  Rhodes,  in  1522,  by  the  Sultan 
Solyman  I.  In  1570,  Selim  II.  took  Cyprus.  The  celebrated 
battle  of  Lepanto,  or  Naupactus,  was  fought  between  the  con- 
federated fleets  of  the  Pope,  the  king  of  Spain,  and  the  Vene- 
tian Republic,  amounting  to  two  hundred  sail,  and  the  Turkish 
fleet  of  three  hundred.  "For  many  hours,"  says  an  old  writer, 
"  diverse  and  doubtful  was  the  whole  face  of  the  battle.  As 
fortune  offered  unto  every  man  his  enemy,  so  he  fought.  Ac- 
cording as  every  man's  disposition  put  him  into  courage  or  fear, 
or  as  he  met  with  more  or  fewer  enemies,  so  was  there  here 
and  there  sometimes  victory  and  sometimes  loss.  The  chance 
of  war  in  one  place  lifteth  up  the  vanquished,  and  in  another 
uverthroweth  the  victorious  :  all  was  full  of  terror,  error,  sor- 
row, and  confusion."  After  five  hours  of  desperate  fighting, 
the  Turks  yielded,  and  the  triumph  of  the  allies  was  com- 
plete. One  hundred  and  thirty  galleys  were  taken,  while  the 
rest  of  the  hostile  ships  were  dashed  upon  the  rocks,  sunk  in 
the  sea,  or  consumed  by  fire.     Thirty-five  hundred  men  were 


392  MODERN   GREECE. 

taken  prisoners,  and  twenty-five  thousand  fell  in  the  battle 
Had  the  Christian  powers  followed  up  this  great  victory,  they 
might  probably  have  driven  the  Turks  back  into  Asia ;  but 
they  neglected  to  pursue  their  advantage,  and  in  the  following 
year  the  Sultan  Selim  was  able  to  put  to  sea  again  with  two 
hundred  and  twenty  sail.  The  allies  abandoned  all  further 
efforts,  and  Venice  made  peace,  surrendering  to  him  the  king- 
dom of  Cyprus  and  several  fortresses  in  Epeirus.  A  contem- 
porary remarked  that  the  destruction  of  the  Turkish  fleet  was 
merely  cutting  off  the  Sultan's  beard,  which  a  few  days  would 
restore ;  while  the  surrender  of  Cyprus  was  the  amputation  of 
an  arm  from  Venice,  which  time  could  neither  reproduce  nor 
remedy. 

Greece  was  now  incorporated,  without  further  struggle,  into 
the  Turkish  Empire,  and  placed  at  the  disposal  of  Turkish 
governors.  In  1670,  the  Turks  conquered  from  the  Venetians, 
after  a  war  of  nearly  thirty  years,  the  important  island  of 
Crete,  at  an  expense  of  two  hundred  thousand  men  and  a  hun- 
dred millions  of  golden  crowns ;  but  in  the  reign  of  the  same 
Sultan,  Mahomet  IV.,  in  the  year  1684,  the  Turks  having 
received  a  great  defeat  at  Vienna,  the  Venetians  joined  the 
Christian  League,  and  Morosini,  having  the  command  of  a  pow- 
erful fleet,  attacked  and  reduced  Santa  Maura  and  Prevesa, 
and  in  the  following  year  commenced  his  operations  against 
the  Turks  in  the  Morea.  The  most  important  ports,  Pylos, 
Methone,  and  at  last  Nauplia,  one  after  the  other  capitulated. 
During  these  movements  the  Greeks  generally  flew  to  arms, 
eager  to  throw  off  the  Turkish  yoke.  In  the  course  of  two 
years,  Morosini  reconquered  the  whole  Peloponnesus,  with  the 
aid  of  the  Greeks  ;  and  on  the  21st  of  September,  1687,  follow- 
ing up  his  successes,  he  sailed  into  the  harbor  of  Peiraeus,  and. 
immediately  landing  without  opposition,  marched  to  Athens 
and  took  possession  of  the  city.  The  Turks  protected  them- 
selves in  the  Acropolis,  and  refused  to  surrender.  Batteries 
were  raised  on  the  neighboring  heights  of  the  Museum  and  the 
Pnyx,  and  the  bombardment  of  the  Acropolis  commenced  or 


GREECE   UNDER   THE   TURKS.  393 

the  26th.  Unfortunately,  the  Turks  had  stored  their  ammuni- 
tion in  the  Parthenon,  and  a  bomb,  falling  into  the  magazine, 
threw  down  all  the  central  portion  of  that  wonderful  work, 
which  had,  up  to  that  time,  remained  in  a  good  state  of  preser- 
vation, with  the  greater  part  of  the  sculptures  which  adorned 
the  tympana,  the  metopes,  and  the  frieze  of  the  cella.  The 
firing  continued  for  several  days  longer ;  but  at  last,  all  the 
wooden  buildings  of  the  Acropolis  having  been  consumed  by  a 
great  conflagration,  the  garrison  held  out  a  flag  of  truce.  The 
Turks,  with  their  wives  and  children,  were  allowed  five  days  to 
prepare  for  their  departure.  Three  thousand  left  the  place ; 
but  it  is  said  by  Sir  Paul  Rycaut  that  three  hundred  Turks, 
rather  than  quit  Athens,  chose  to  abjure  Mahometanism,  and 
were  baptized  into  the  Catholic  Church.  The  Venetians  re- 
tained possession  of  Athens  only  for  a  few  months,  the  admiral 
needing  his  troops  elsewhere. 

But  these  brilliant  successes  had  no  permanent  result.  Ve- 
netians and  Turks  were  alike  wearied  with  the  war ;  and  in 
1699  the  peace  of  Carlowitz  left  only  the  Peloponnesus  in  the 
possession  of  the  Republic.  The  conquest  of  the  Morea  was  the 
last  triumph  of  the  Venetians ;  and  this  was  due  to  the  genius 
of  Morosini,  who  thence  received  the  designation  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian. 

While  the  Venetians  hardly  endeavored  to  secure  what 
they  had  gained,  the  Turks  made  vast  preparations  to  re- 
cover the  conquered  country.  In  1715,  the  Grand  Vizier 
of  Achmet  III.  burst  into  the  Peloponnesus  with  an  army 
of  a  hundred  thousand  men,  supported  by  a  fleet  of  a  hun- 
dred sail ;  and  notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  the  Knights  of 
Malta  and  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany  to  assist  the  Vene- 
tians in  the  defence  of  Greece,  Delfino,  who  had  been  left  in 
command,  was  compelled  to  abandon  the  Morea.  The  Turks, 
advancing  upon  Corinth,  butchered  on  the  spot  one  half  of  the 
capitulating  garrison,  reserving  the  remainder  to  be  executed 
under  the  walls  of  Nauplia,  within  sio;ht  of  the  Venetians. 
Argos  was  recovered  without  striking  a  blow.     Nauplia  was 


894  MODERN   GREECE. 

betrayed,  the  city  and  fortress  entered  at  midnight,  and  the 
inhabitants  put  to  the  sword.  In  1718,  the  peace  of  Passa- 
rowitz  surrendered  the  whole  of  Greece  again  to  Turkey  ;  and 
so  she  remained  enslaved,  with  scarcely  a  movement  towards 
emancipation,  until  the  revolution  which  commenced  in  1821. 

In  organizing  his  newly  conquered  territories,  Mahomet 
II.  divided  them  into  military  departments,  called  Pactialics ; 
these  again  were  subdivided  into  Moussemlics,  Agalics,  and 
Vaivodalics ;  and  these  were  subject  to  a  supreme  magistrate 
entitled  Rumeli  Valesi,  or  Grand  Judge  of  Roumelia.  The 
Pachas  were,  like  the  satraps  of  the  old  Persian  Empire,  quite 
independent  of  one  another,  and  often  engaged  in  mutual  hos- 
tilities for  purposes  of  conquest  or  plunder.  The  number  of 
Pachalics  in  Greece  differed  at  different  times;  and  in  some 
parts  of  the  country,  on  account  of  its  mountainous  character 
and  the  spirit  of  the  inhabitants,  it  was  never  possible  to  estab- 
lish the  Turkish  system  thoroughly.  Some  towns  and  small 
districts  were  governed  by  Beys,  Agas,  and  Vaivodes.  About 
1812  there  were  five  Pachalics,  the  chief  of  which  was  that  of 
Joannina,  or  Albania,  under  the  government  of  the  celebrated 
Ali  Pacha,  including  Epeirus,  Acarnania,  jiEtolia,  Phocis,  the 
greater  part  of  Thessaly,  and  the  western  portions  of  Macedonia 
and  Boeotia,  uniting  territories  which  at  an  earlier  period  had 
constituted  five  or  six  Pachalics.  Attica  and  Lebadeia  were 
each  under  the  command  of  a  Vaivode.  Zagora  was  under 
the  administration  of  a  Greek  Primate  ;  the  north  of  Macedo- 
nia was  broken  up  into  numerous  Agalics ;  the  Morea,  with  the 
exception  of  Maina,  was  under  the  Pacha  of  Tripolizza,  with 
eight  or  nine  Beys,  and  other  inferior  chiefs,  subordinate  to 
him.  The  principal  islands  and  some  of  the  coast-districts 
were  under  the  Capitan  Pacha,  who  visited  them  annually  to 
collect  their  tribute ;  the  others  were  in  the  hands  of  the  Di- 
van, or  belonged  to  some  of  the  Pachalics. 

The  tenure  of  landed  estates  was  entirely  changed ;  the  prop- 
erty being  vested  in  the  Sultan  as  the  head  of  the  state,  and 
only  a  life  interest  remaining  to  the  occupant.     This  at  once 


GREECE   UNDER   THE   TURKS.  395 

reduced  the  whole  population  to  the  condition  of  tenants  of  the 
crown,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  of  the  old  families  in  the 
Morea,  which  were  suffered  to  retain  their  property  on  the  pay- 
ment of  large  tributes.  The  whole  system  of  administration, 
if  that  could  be  called  a  system  whose  only  principles  were 
rapacity,  corruption,  and  venality,  was  one  which  tended  inevi- 
tably to  the  extinction  of  every  manly  trait  in  the  character  of 
the  people.  It  has  always  been  characteristic  of  the  Turks  to 
make  the  most  of  the  moment,  utterly  regardless  of  the  future. 
Plunder  and  extortion  have  marked  their  course  from  the  first 
establishment  of  the  Empire  down  to  the  present  time ;  and 
the  consequence  is,  that,  while  possessing  the  finest  and  most 
productive  countries  in  the  world,  they  have  succeeded  in 
wasting  their  resources,  diminishing  their  population,  and  re- 
ducing extensive  regions  to  deserts.  The  Pachas  of  Greece,  as 
well  as  of  other  provinces  in  the  Empire,  purchased  their  places 
by  the  payment  of  large  sums  into  the  imperial  treasury  ;  the 
Porte  usually  bestowing  the  office  on  the  highest  bidder. 
They  accordingly  indemnified  themselves  by  extortions  from 
their  unhappy  subjects.  Besides  this,  they  were  obliged  to 
contribute  a  large  amount  annually  to  the  revenues  of  the  Em- 
pire. Says  D'Arvieux,  a  French  writer:  "  The  viceroys,  local 
governors,  and  other  officers  of  the  Ottoman  Empire  are  farm- 
ers of  revenues,  and  are  obliged  to  remit  the  sums  agreed  upon 
to  the  Grand  Vizier,  under  pain  of  sending  their  own  heads  to 
the  imperial  treasury.  No  excuse  is  received  ;  the  money  must 
be  forthcoming,  even  if  there  is  none ;  and  as  their  life  and 
fortune  depend  on  their  punctuality  in  paying,  they  resort  to 
every  means  of  accomplishing  the  end." 

In  their  provinces  the  power  of  the  Pachas  was  absolute, 
and  their  state  was  maintained  with  Oriental  pomp.  They 
usually  acquired  enormous  wealth,  by  means  of  the  variety  of 
taxes  and  extortions  they  could  with  impunity  enforce.  Ali 
Pacha's  dominion  extended  over  four  hundred  villages,  and  his 
annual  income  was  about  one  million  o?  dollars.  The  Beys 
&nd  Agas  exercised  a  similar  authority.     The  only  restraint 


596  MODERN   GREECE. 

upon  these  powerful  chieftains  was  the  probability  of  the  bow- 
string whenever  they  fell  under  the  displeasure  of  the  Porte, 
or  when  it  became  desirable  to  recruit  an  exhausted  treasury 
by  confiscating  the  ill-gotten  wealth  of  an  overgrown  Pacha. 
The  Christian  population  of  the  conquered  territory  were 
obliged  to  pay  a  life  tax  called  the  harateh,  which  was  regarded 
at  first  as  a  composition,  or  compromise,  for  the  privilege  of  liv- 
ing, it  being  the  undoubted  right  of  the  conqueror  to  put  his 
captives  to  death.  In  some  places  this  tax  was  paid  for  children 
from  the  moment  of  birth  ;  in  others  from  a  certain  age, — five, 
eight,  twelve,  or  fifteen  years.  The  rate,  too,  varied.  Ac- 
cording to  Colonel  Leake,  the  tax  for  a  whole  family  usually 
amounted  to  about  two  pounds  sterling  ;  but  any  individual 
subject  to  this  impost  was  liable  to  frequent  and  insolent  exam- 
ination in  the  street,  and  on  failing  to  produce  his  legal  receipt 
was  forced  to  pay  the  tax  to  the  nearest  official  authority, 
whether  he  had  paid  it  before  or  not.  The  land  tax  amounted 
at  different  times  and  places  to  one  twentieth,  one  twelfth, 
one  tenth,  and  one  seventh  of  the  produce  of  the  soil.  At  the 
entrance  of  every  town  duties  were  paid  on  cattle,  provisions, 
wine,  and  fire-wood.  Various  costly  restrictions  on  commerce  ; 
composition  for  exemption  from  labor  on  the  public  works;  ar- 
bitrary requisitions  for  the  service  of  the  Sultan ;  one  tenth  of 
the  value  in  dispute  in  legal  proceedings  ;  avanias,  or  money 
exacted  from  the  inhabitants  of  a  district  where  a  crime  had 
been  committed,  on  the  ground  that  they  might  have  prevented 
it ;  requisitions  to  supply  a  certain  proportion  of  wheat  at  a 
nominal  price,  to  be  stored  up  at  Constantinople  or  sold  at  an 
enormous  profit;  —  these  are  but  a  few  of  the  more  prominent 
forms  of  extortion  practised  by  the  Turkish  governors.  Says 
Sir  Emerson  Tennent:  "So  undefined  was  the  system  of  ex- 
tortion, and  so  uncontrolled  the  power  of  those  to  whom  its 
execution  was  intrusted,  that  the  evil  spread  over  the  whole 
system  of  administration,  and  insinuated  itself  with  a  polypous 
fertility  into  every  relation  and  ordinance  of  society,  till  there 
were  few  actions  or  occupations  of  the  Greek  that  were  no 


GREECE  UNDER  THE   TURKS.  397 

burdened  with  the  scrutiny  and  interference  of  his  masters,  and 
none  that  did  not  suffer,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  from  their 
heartless  rapine."  The  rayahs,  or  common  laboring  classes, 
were  reduced  to  the  condition  of  serfs,  subject  to  every  species 
of  oppression,  with  no  prospect  or  power  of  improving  their 
condition,  but  condemned  to  hopeless  slavery  and  degradation. 
In  the  almost  endless  list  of  petty  occasions  on  which  the 
most  vexatious  extortions  were  practised,  some  are  almost  too 
ridiculous  to  be  mentioned.  For  example,  one  source  of  rev- 
enue was  called  tooth-money^  to  remunerate  the  Pacha  and  his 
suite  for  the  fatigue  of  eating  the  food  prepared  and  furnished 
for  them  by  the  Greeks  during  their  journeys  for  the  collection 
of  taxes.  The  whole  amount  paid  from  these  various  sources 
has  been  estimated  at  nearly  two  millions  sterling,  of  which  it 
is  supposed  that  about  one  half  reached  the  treasury. 

There  was  a  most  cruel  tax  of  one  tenth  of  the  male  chil- 
dren, who  were  torn  from  their  parents,  subjected  to  the  rites 
of  the  Mahometan  faith,  and  employed  in  various  offices,  me- 
nial or  other,  according  to  their  ability.  This  most  odious  im- 
position, however,  appears  to  have  been  abolished  in  the  seven- 
teenth century,  during  the  reign  of  Amurath  IV.  Another 
exaction  of  a  similar  character  was  a  levy  of  a  certain  num- 
ber of  boys  annually,  to  fill  the  corps  of  the  janizaries.  This 
terrible  pretorian  guard  of  the  Sultans  was  created  by  Orkan, 
the  second  Sultan  of  the  Ottoman  dynasty,  in  the  fourteenth 
century,  and  consisted  at  first  of  young  Christians  taken  cap- 
tive in  war  and  trained  up  in  the  Mahometan  faith  and  dis- 
cipline of  arms.  When  organized,  the  troop  was  blessed  by  an 
aged  dervish.  "  The  soldiery  which  you  have  just  created," 
said  he  to  the  sovereign,  "shall  be  Jani-Tscheri  (new  troop)  ; 

shall  be  victorious  in  every  combat ;  its  face  shall  be  white, 
its  arm  formidable,  its  sabre  sharp-edged,  and  its  arrow  pierc- 
ing." It  became,  in  the  course  of  time,  a  formidable  power, 
not  only  to  the  Sultan's  enemies,  buf  to  the  Sultan  himself. 
Revolutions  were  made  at  the  beck  of  this  band ;  Sultans  were 
enthroned  and  deposed,  according  to  their  licentious  will.     Tt 


398  MODERN   GREECE. 

was  one  of  those  instruments  of  despotism  which  most  emphat- 
ically turn  to  plague  their  inventors.  The  supply  of  boys  to 
recruit  this  body  in  Greece  amounted  to  about  a  thousand 
annually,  and  was  afterwards  increased.  The  imposition  was 
called  the  vraiSo fiasco /jlcl,  or  child-tax.  This  inhuman  impost 
continued  to  be  assessed  down  to  the  middle  of  the  seven- 
teenth century;  and  the  whole  number  of  those  furnished  by 
Greece  alone  amounted,  according  to  the  estimate  of  one  of 
the  professors  in  the  University  of  Athens,  to  little  less  than 
five  hundred  thousand.  Afterwards,  the  recruits  were  taken 
from  the  children  of  the  janizaries.  This  military  organiza- 
tion existed  until  1826,  when  Sultan  Mahmoud,  finding  its 
power  and  turbulence  obstacles  in  the  way  of  his  projected  re- 
forms, resolved  on  disbanding  it,  and  putting  his  army  on  the 
European  footing.  Thirty  thousand  janizaries  rose  in  rebel- 
lion. The  Sultan,  having  consulted  the  highest  authorities 
of  the  Moslem  law,  and  received  their  solemn  sanction  to  the 
measure,  unrolled  the  standard  of  the  Prophet,  and  rallied  all 
true  Moslems  to  the  support  of  the  throne.  Fifty  thousand  men 
marched  against  the  insurgents,  surrounded  their  barracks  in 
the  Hippodrome,  set  them  on  fire,  and  slaughtered  those  who 
attempted  to  escape.  So  perished  by  flame  and  sword  a  body 
of  men  descended  from  Christian  captives,  or  from  children 
torn  by  violence  from  Christian  families,  forced  to  remain  aliens 
from  the -religion  of  their  fathers,  and  for  centuries  the  instru- 
ment and  the  terror  of  their  tyrants. 

The  general  wretchedness  of  the  Greeks  was  only  modified 
by  the  various  dispositions  of  their  rulers.  The  system  itself 
was  incurably  burdensome  and  corrupt.  The  administration 
of  justice  was  as  much  degraded  by  venality  as  every  other 
department.  Industry  was  abandoned  to  the  servile  classes ; 
and  commerce  was  driven  from  Greece  by  the  brutal  oppres- 
sion of  the  Turks.  Education,  almost  of  necessity,  was  aban- 
doned ;  and  the  people  were  reduced  to  the  lowest  state  of 
poverty,  ignorance,  and  vice.  The  hard  necessities  of  their  lot 
under  this  many-headed  despotism  developed  with  rank  luxu 


GREECE   UNDER   THE   TURKS  399 

riance  all  the  native  faults  of  the  Hellenic  character.  False- 
hood, cunning,  and  treachery  were  the  only  arms  they  were 
able  to  wield  against  the  oppressors ;  and  it  is  no  wonder  if 
they  lost  all  sense  of  moral  responsibility  under  the  pressure 
of  such  hopeless  degradation.  Their  property  at  the  mercy 
of  tyrannical  rulers ;  their  sons  liable  to  be  forced  into  the 
seraglio  or  placed  among  the  janizaries ;  their  daughters,  if 
attractive,  seized  by  the  Pacha  of  the  moment,  and  sent  to  the 
harem  of  the  Sultan,  or  of  some  powerful  minister,  to  win  his 
favor,  and  secure  a  continuance  of  power  in  the  hands  of  the 
miscreant; — these  are  the  things  which  are  branded  deep  in 
the  memory  of  the  Greeks,  and  have  transmitted  from  genera- 
tion to  generation  a  profound  hatred  of  the  Turks,  which  it  is 
the  policy  at  present  to  denounce  as  absurd,  but  which,  at 
all  events,  has  more  substantial  reasons  to  justify  it  than  the 
international  hostilities  of  any  other  European  states.  It  is 
surprising,  not  that  the  Greeks  came  out  of  this  long  trial  of 
four  hundred  years  with  many  faults  of  character,  but  that 
they  came  out  with  any  character  at  all.  The  favorable  treat- 
ment extended  at  Constantinople  to  some  of  the  Phanariot 
Greeks,  who  entered  the  service  of  the  Ottoman  government, 
and  rose  to  high  positions  in  diplomacy  or  provincial  admin- 
istration, and  the  tolerance  shown  to  the  religion  of  the 
Greeks,  as  a  means  of  making  the  Church  subordinate  to  the 
central  government  and  a  source  of  revenue,  so  far  from  being 
a  benefit  to  the  people,  only  increased  their  misery  by  corrupt- 
ing their  natural  leaders.  Those  who  were  thus  indulged 
grew  as  oppressive  and  tyrannical  as  the  Turks  themselves ; 
and  the  Church,  which  seemed  now  the  only  bond  of  union 
and  preserver  of  nationality,  in  its  highest  places  became,  like 
the  Pachalics  of  the  Empire,  a  theatre  of  venality.  To  ,this 
day  the  dignity  of  Patriarch  of  Constantinople  is  purchasable 
of  the  Divan  ;  and  this  exalted  head  of  the  Christian  Church, 
tinder  Turkish  rule,  has  too  often  been  merely  the  tool  of  a 
Turkish  minister. 

The  Greek  islands,  being  visited  by  the  Turks  only  periodi 


400  MODERN   GREECE. 

cally,  for  the  collection  of  tribute,  were  much  less  wretched 
than  the  mainland,  and  much  less  exposed  to  the  vices  of  the 
Turkish  system,  whether  of  plundering  in  general,  or  of  the 
administration  of  injustice  —  it  would  be  a  misuse  ot  lan- 
guage to  call  it  justice  —  in  particular.  "  To  sum  up  all,/'  says 
a  very  judicious  writer,  "  the  energies  of  the  nation  were 
either  cramped  in  their  infancy,  or  crushed  in  their  maturer 
development ;  the  course  of  justice  was  diverted  from  its  genial 
channels,  or  fouled  by  venality  and  religious  favoritism  ;  the 
fruits  of  domestic  toil  were  wrested  by  local  despots  and  dele- 
gated tyrants,  or  sacked  by  the  unresisted  spoiler  and  the  wan- 
dering bandit." 

Athens  at  this  period,  though  in  a  state  of  degradation,  was 
more  fortunate  than  her  neighbors.  Mahomet  II.  visited  that 
city  twice  in  his  expeditions  into  Greece,  and  seems  to  have 
been  pleased  with  the  beauty  of  its  ancient  remains.  As  a 
mark  of  his  good  will,  he  directed  that  no  Bey  should  reside 
within  the  city,  in  order  to  save  it  from  the  well-known  rapacity 
of  the  numerous  retinue  of  these  governors.  At  a  later  period, 
in  the  reign  of  Achmet  I.,  the  city  was  put  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  Kislar  Aga,  —  a  chief  officer,  to  whom  was  intrusted 
the  care  of  the  royal  harem ;  and  the  government  was  placed 
in  the  hands  of  three  officials  called  the  Vaivoide,  the  Disdar, 
and  the  Cadi,  who  were  appointed  by  the  Kislar  Aga.  This 
arrangement  continued  until  the  Greek  Revolution ;  and  the 
circumstances  to  which  it  owes  its  origin  illustrate  one  of  the 
kinds  of  outrage  to  which  even  the  most  favored  community 
was  exposed  under  the  rule  of  the  Porte.  The  story  is  related 
by  De  la  Guilletiere,  a  French  traveller,  who  visited  Athens 
in  the  seventeenth  century,  after  having  suffered  four  years  of 
slavery  in  Barbary.  His  companions  were  two  Germans,  two 
Italians,  and  one  English  gentleman,  —  all,  he  says,  learned  and 
curious  men.  The  adventures  of  this  company  of  early  pil- 
grims to  the  classical  regions  of  Greece  he  describes  as  very 
curious  and  interesting.  His  best  chapters  are  those  under 
the  title  of  Athens,  Ancient  and  Modern.      From  his  account. 


GREECE  UNDER   THE  TURKS.  401 

the  city  must  have  made  considerable  progress  in  the  century 
preceding  his  visit.  He  writes  :  "  The  city  consists  of  at  least 
fifteen  or  sixteen  thousand  inhabitants,  of  whom  ten  or  twelve 
hundred  are  Turks.  At  present,  as  formerly,  the  people  of 
both  sexes  are  well  shaped  and  of  an  excellent  contexture, 
which  is  the  reason  why  they  live  to  be  very  old.  We  attrib- 
uted much  of  their  vigor  to  their  diet,  and  their  use  of  honey, 
which  the  Athenians  use  very  freely,  it  being  excellently 
good." 

When  the  worthy  traveller  inquired  of  some  of  the  elders 
the  reason  why  the  city  had  no  Sangiac,  or  Bey,  he  received 
the  following  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the  exemption,  from 
a  monk,  Damaskinos,  —  a  story  which  Sir  Emerson  Tennent 
has  greatly  embellished.  These  are  the  essential  incidents. 
Among  the  young  Athenian  girls  was  one  named  Basilia,  who 
surpassed  them  all  in  beauty.  The  fame  of  her  loveliness  and 
transcendent  charms  reaching  the  ears  of  the  Turkish  officers 
who  were  collecting  the  duties  upon  children,  they  seized  her 
in  order  to  send  her  to  Constantinople  as  a  present  to  the 
Sultan.  Her  mother,  weeping  over  her  bitterly,  and  em- 
bracing her  before  she  was  finally  borne  away,  begged  her 
to  be  always  mindful  of  her  religion  and  of  the  calamities 
of  her  country.  She  was  torn  from  parents  and  home,  and, 
sad  and  broken-hearted,  carried  to  Constantinople.  The  un- 
common character  of  her  beauty  made  a  deep  impression  on 
the  Sultan,  who  surrounded  her  with  all  the  splendors  of  the 
seraglio.  But  the  thoughts  of  home  and  the  horrors  of  her 
position,  constantly  present  to  the  mind  of  the  Christian  maid- 
en, undermined  her  health.  The  Sultan  saw  her  wasting  away 
with  the  deepest  anxiety,  and  redoubled  his  efforts  to  restore 
her  to  happiness,  imploring  her  to  accept  the  most  costly  and 
splendid  gifts  the  imperial  treasury  could  furnish  the  means 
of  procuring.  She  rejected  them  all,  but  at  last  summoned 
courage  to  address  him  in  behalf  ">f  the  Kislar  Aga,  who  had 
shown  himself  her  faithful  friend  and  the  friend  of  her  native 
city.     "  There  is  not,"  said  she,  "  a  person  in  yot»/  Majesty's 

VOL.   II.  26 


402  MODERN   GREECE. 

vast  empire  to  whom  I  can  pay  anything  more  justly  than  to 
this  Kislar  Aga  before  you.  And  I  know  nothing  that  I  can 
ask  for  him  so  properly  as  the  government  of  the  city  where  I 
was  born.  Confer,  I  beseech  you,  upon  a  slave  that  has  been 
so  faithful  to  your  sacred  Majesty  and  your  interests  the  reve- 
nue of  Athens,  and  permit  him  to  place  under  himself  such 
officers  as  may  not  abuse  your  divine  authority,  as  others  have 
done  before  them,  of  whose  violence  and  extortions  my  mis- 
erable parents  have  many  times  given  me  sad  and  deplorable 
accounts."  The  request  was  immediately  granted.  The  Kis- 
lar Aga  sent  a  deputy  with  an  express  order  against  rapine  and 
extortion,  which  order  was  not  only  executed  then,  but,  says 
the  narrator,  has  been  observed  ever  since.  A  few  days  after- 
ward Basilia  died ;  but  her  last  moments  were  consoled  with 
the  reflection  that  she  had  remembered  her  mother's  parting 
injunctions,  and  that  her  sacrifice  of  happiness  and  life  had 
lessened  the  miseries  of  her  country.  The  succeeding  Sultans 
continued  the  government  of  the  Chief  of  the  Seraglio  over 
Athens,  which,  bad  as  it  was,  was  preferable  to  that  of  San- 
giacs,  Beys,  and  Pachas.  In  reference  to  this,  Lord  Byron  in 
the  Giaour  calls  the  Athenians 

"  Slaves,  —  nay,  the  bondsmen  of  a  slave." 

Such  being  the  general  condition  of  the  Greeks,  and  the 
relations  established  between  them  and  their  conquerors,  it  is 
not  very  surprising  that  Greeks  and  Turks  never  blended  into 
one  homogeneous  population,  even  without  the  strong  repul- 
sion of  the  two  religions,  and  the  unmitigated  contempt  with 
which  every  Mahometan  looked  down  upon  all  the  world  out- 
side the  pale  of  Islamism. 

A  Greek  writer,  in  answer  to  the  question,  What  preserved 
the  Greeks?  answers,  —  1.  Their  pious  devotion  to  the  religion 
of  their  fathers.  2.  The  ignorance  and  intellectual  inferiority 
of  the  Turks,  and  the  superiority  of  the  Hellenic  magistrates, 
who  in  some  parts  of  Greece  continued,  even  under  the  Turks, 
to  direct  the  affairs  of  the  communities,  did  much  to  protect 
the   Greeks  from   abuses  by  the  Turks,   and   preserved  and 


GREECE   UNDER   THE   TURKS.  40a 

cherished  the  last  traces  of  the  national  administration.  But 
the  preservation  of  the  national  spirit  is  due  chiefly  to  the  fact, 
that  there  were  some  places  in  Greece  which  the  Turks  were 
never  able  entirely  to  subdue.  For  a  long  time  the  Mainotes, 
in  the  Peloponnesus,  maintained  their  independence,  against 
both  the  Venetians  and  the  Turks;  and  they  always  enjoyed 
the  right  of  being  governed  by  a  native  ruler.  The  warlike 
inhabitants  of  the  mountainous  regions  in  the  North  —  Olym- 
pus, Pelion,  Pindus,  and  Agrapha  —  refused  to  be  subjected 
to  the  Turks,  who  found  themselves  compelled  to  make  terms, 
and  to  permit  them,  on  the  payment  of  a  trifling  tribute,  ta 
retain  their  arms,  and  to  assume  the  military  protection  of 
their  native  districts.  Those  who  made  this  partial  submission 
were  called  Armatoli,  or  K\e<pTac  rjfiepoi,  —  tame  Klephts. 
They  preserved  in  Greece  military  habits  and  the  use  of  arms. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  the  whole  North  of 
Greece  was  divided  into  seventeen  Armatolics,  or  Armatolian 
districts,  which  acknowledged  only  a  nominal  subjection  to  the 
Pachas.  The  chief  official  was  a  military  leader,  who  bore  the 
title  of  Capitanos,  or  Protatos,  and  resided  in  the  principal 
village  of  his  canton.  The  office  was  hereditary,  descending, 
with  the  chieftain's  sword,  to  the  oldest  son.  The  members  of 
the  corps  were  called  Pallecaria,  —  braves,  —  a  name  as  famous 
in  modern  Greek  poetry  as  heroes  in  the  Homeric.  The  dress 
of  the  Pallecaria  was  very  splendid.  Their  valor,  their  en- 
durance of  fatigue  and  danger,  their  well-strung  frames,  and 
their  wonderful  activity,  were  the  theme  of  the  native  poets, 
whose  songs  almost  reproduce  the  pictures  of  ancient  Homeric 
times.  But  besides  the  Armatoles,  there  were  many  proud  and 
daring  spirits,  who  utterly  refused  to  accept  any  terms,  or  to 
make  any  compromise  with  the  conquerors.  They  betook  them- 
selves to  a  life  of  lawless  rapine  among  the  inaccessible  fast- 
nesses of  the  mountains.  They  were  organized  in  companies, 
under  Capitani,  and  bore  the  name  of  aypioi  K\e(f>Tai,  or  sim- 
ply K\e(j>Tai, —  the  ancient  KXeirrcu,  or  robbers.  The  term 
wat  very  far  from  being  one  of  dishonor ;  on  the  contrary,  it 


404  MODERN   GREECE. 

had  a  touch  of  the  heroic,  and  reminds  one  of  the  remarks  of 
Thucydides  on  the  early  condition  of  the  Greeks,  when  a 
similar  estimate  was  placed  on  the  profession  designated  by 
this  term.  The  Klephts  maintained  themselves  in  a  rude  and 
wild  state  of  independence,  seizing  every  opportunity  of  rush- 
ing  down  upon  the  Turkish  villages  and  camps,  killing  and 
plundering,  and  then  climbing  back  to  their  rocky  eyries,  be- 
fore the  Turks  could  rally  in  pursuit.  These  classical  forays 
were  not  always  conducted  with  an  exact  discrimination  be- 
tween the  property  of  countrymen  and  aliens,  —  such  was  the 
imperfection  of  human  nature  among  the  Klephtic  race  ;  but 
generally  the  Klephts  exhibited  the  bravery  and  generosity  of 
men  resolved,  if  they  had  nothing  else  which  they  could  call 
their  own,  to  enjoy  at  least  their  wild  liberty.  The  ballads  of 
the  Klephts,  of  which  a  few  words  will  be  said  when  I  touch 
upon  the  language  and  poetry  of  Modern  Greece,  are  full  of 
fire,  and  redolent  of  the  mountain  life,  which  had  an  irre- 
sistible charm  for  young  and  adventurous  spirits,  chafing  un- 
der the  Turkish  domination  in  the  lowlands.  I  give  a  literal 
version  of  one  of  these  from  a  collection  recently  published  by 
Zampelios,  a  Greek  gentleman  and  a  native  of  Leucadia.  It 
illustrates  at  once  the  impatient  spirit  of  rebellion  against  the 
Turks,  and  the  sweet  flow  of  natural  poetry  which  was  ever 
welling  up  in  the  heart  of  the  people.  It  represents  the  feel- 
ings of  a  young  man,  who  had  resolved  to  quit  his  mother's 
home,  and  betake  himself  to  the  mountains. 

" '  Mother,  I  can  no  longer  be  a  slave  to  the  Turks  ;  I  can- 
not, —  my  heart  fights  against  it.  I  will  take  my  gun,  and  go 
and  become  a  Klepht ;  to  dwell  on  the  mountains,  among  the 
lofty  ridges ;  to  have  the  woods  for  my  companions,  and  my 
converse  with  the  beasts ;  to  have  the  snow  for  my  covering, 
the  rocks  for  my  bed ;  with  sons  of  the  Klephts  to  have  my 
daily  habitation.  I  will  go,  mother,  and  do  not  weep,  but  give 
me  thy  prayer.  And  we  will  pray,  my  motner  dear,  that  1 
may  slaughter  many  a  Turk.  And  plant  the  rose,  and  plant 
the  dark  carnation,  and  give  them  sugar  and  musk  to  drink 


GREECE   UNDER   THE   TURKS  405 

And  as  long,  O  mother  mine,  as  the  flowers  blossom  and  put 
forth,  thy  son  is  not  dead,  but  is  warring  with  the  Turks. 
And  if  a  day  of  sorrow  comes,  a  day  of  woe,  and  the  plants 
fadt:  away,  and  the  flowers  fall,  then  I  too  shall  have  been 
slain,  and  thou  must  clothe  thyself  in  black.' 

"  Twelve  years  passed,  and  fifteen  months,  while  the  roses 
blossomed,  and  the  buds  bloomed ;  and  one  spring  morning, 
the  first  of  May,  when  the  birds  were  singing  and  heaven  was 
smiling,  at  once  it  thundered  and  lightened,  and  grew  dark. 
The  carnation  sighed,  the  rose  wept,  both  withered  away  to- 
gether, and  the  flowers  fell ;  and  with  them  the  hapless  mother 
became  a  lifeless  heap  of  earth." 

The  numbers  of  these  mountain  warriors  were  greatly  in- 
creased by  the  bloody  tyranny  of  Ali  Pacha,  who  attempted 
to  crush  the  military  organization  of  the  Armatoli;  and  when 
the  Revolution  broke  out,  the  courage,  temperance,  and  hardi- 
hood of  these  bands  were  among  the  most  effective  agencies 
in  rescuing  the  country  from  the  blighting  tyranny  of  the 
Turks.  The  life  of  the  Klephts  placed  them  beyond  the  reach 
of  anything  like  literary  culture.  They  had  no  more  time  or 
taste  for  letters  than  the  confederated  chiefs  under  the  walls 
of  Troy  ;  but,  like  them,  they  delighted  in  feats  of  strength, 
and  in  listening  to  the  traditional  ballads  which  commemo- 
rated in  unwritten  minstrelsy  the  exploits  of  their  fathers. 
Swift-footed  Achilles  himself  could  scarcely  have  matched 
them  in  the  race  or  the  leap.  Nico  Tsara  sprang  over  seven 
horses  abreast ;  and  it  was  no  uncommon  thing  for  a  Klepht, 
in  full  armor,  to  outrun  the  swiftest  racer.  The  Capitanos 
Zacharias  was  so  tremendous  a  runner,  that  he  is  said  to 
have  touched  his  ears  with  his  heels.  Of  the  Nico  Tsara 
»bove  mentioned  and  his  troop,  one  of  the  ballads  relates  : 

"  Three  days  he  keeps  the  Dattle  up,  three  days  and  three  long  nights, 
And  snow  they  ate,  and  snow  they  drank,  and  bore  the  hostile  tire." 

And  in  another  place  : 

"  Three  .lays  he  keeps  the  battle  up,  three  days  and  three  long  nighta 
Nor  bread  ate  he,  nor  water  drank,  no-  sleep  came  oVir  his  eyes  " 


406  1IODERN   GREECE. 

Such  men  as  these  could  expect  no  quarter  from  the  Turks, 
whenever  the  chances  of  war  threw  them  into  their  hands. 
The  tortures  to  which  they  were  subjected,  when  such  a  mis- 
fortune happened,  make  us  shudder  as  we  read  the  horrible  de- 
tails ;  but  the  Klephts  bore  them  with  the  stoicism  of  the  North 
American  Indians.  Death  on  the  field  of  battle  filled  their  idea 
of  glory ;  and  capture  or  submission  embodied  to  their  minds 
all  that  was  dishonoring  and  horrible.  At  their  banquets,  the 
favorite  toast  was  KaXov  fio\v/3i,  "  Welcome  the  bullet ! "  The 
bodies  of  those  who  fell  in  battle  they  honored  with  the  name 
of  victims  ;  the  bodies  of  those  who  died  of  sickness  or  age,  —  by 
a  natural  death,  as  we  term  it,  —  they  stigmatized  as  carcasses. 
Their  religious  ideas  were  rather  primitive,  but  not  those  of 
the  primitive  Christians.  They  were  not  over-fond  of  priests  ; 
they  did  not  love  the  monks ;  they  had  no  reverence  for  bish- 
ops, and  thought  it  right  to  turn  an  honest  penny  at  their  ex- 
pense when  they  had  a  fair  opportunity.  The  principal  use  of 
monasteries,  in  their  eyes,  was  to  serve  as  magazines  of  pro- 
visions, to  which  they  took  the  liberty  of  helping  themselves 
when  occasion  served.  It  was  a  special  triumph  to  carry  off 
a  Turkish  Bey  or  Aga  to  the  mountains,  and  keep  him  there 
under  careful  watch  till  ransomed  by  the  payment  of  a  heavy 
sum.  One  of  the  ballads  describes  the  band  of  Koudas,  a 
Klephtic  chief,  preparing  a  feast  in  this  jolly  fashion  :  — 

"  And  they  had  lambs,  and  roasted  them,  and  rams  were  on  the  spits  ; 
Five  captive  Beys  they  also  had,  that  they  might  turn  the  spits." 

And  in  the  ballad  of  Christos  Milionis,  the  hero  descends  upon 
Arta,  and  carries  off  the  Cadi  and  two  Agas  together. 

These  slight  sketches  will  perhaps  suffice  to  present  the 
Klephtic  side  of  Modern  Greek  life.  The  Klephts  served  an 
admirable  purpose  in  keeping  alive  the  heroic  qualities  of  the 
race,  when  the  degrading  despotism  of  the  Turks  had  else- 
where almost  crushed  them  out  of  existence.  They  rendered 
brilliant  services  in  the  glorious  struggle  for  liberty,  notwith- 
standing the  propensity  to  indiscriminate  plunder  which  their . 
way  of  life  naturally  developed  and  strengthened.     They  have 


GREECE   UNDER   THE   TURKS.  407 

given  some  trouble  to  the  regular  governments,  under  Capo 
d'Istria  and  King  Otho;  but  they  have  now,  for  the  most 
part,  conformed  to  the  established  order  of  civilized  life,  and 
some  of  them  are  among  the  best  men  in  Greece.  It  is  a  little 
curious  to  see  the  Pallecaria  now,  and  to  remember  what  they 
were  a  few  years  ago,  —  then  living  among  the  rocks,  and  de- 
scending like  eagles  upon  Turkish  Beys,  or  feasting  in  the 
refectories  of  the  monasteries,  —  now  figuring  at  royal  balls,  or 
walking  jauntily  along  the  Street  of  JEolus,  at  the  fashionable 
hour  of  four,  in  tasselled  fez,  embroidered  jacket,  snowy  fus- 
tanelli,  dazzling  greaves,  —  a  spectacle  to  the  curious  stranger 
and  the  admiration  of  the  Athenian  belles. 


LECTURE  VIII. 

THE     GREEK    REVOLUTION. 

In  the  last  Lecture  I  spoke  of  the  consequences  which  fol- 
lowed the  downfall  of  Constantinople,  with  reference  to  the 
position  of  Western  Europe  ;  of  the  literary  relations  between 
the  scholars  of  the  Eastern  capital  and  the  nascent  culture  of 
the  West ;  of  the  dispersion  of  learned  Byzantines  when  the 
Mahometans  became  masters  of  the  Eastern  world ;  and  of  the 
reception  of  Greek  literature,  especially  among  the  scholars 
and  poets  of  Italy.  I  next  sketched  the  form  of  the  Turkish 
administration,  and  pointed  out  some  of  the  grinding  exactions 
and  cruel  oppressions  to  which  the  conquered  were  subjected 
by  the  conquerors ;  and  finally  indicated  the  principal  causes 
which  contributed  to  the  preservation  of  the  national  spirit,  — 
the  Church,  the  influence  of  the  local  administration  left  by  the 
Porte  in  the  hands  of  the  natives,  and,  still  more,  the  contin- 
uance of  a  vigorous  germ  of  nationality  among  the  indepen- 
dent and  unconquered  mountaineers,  who  acknowledged  only 
a  nominal  submission,  or  no  submission  at  all,  to  the  govern- 
ment of  the  Porte. 

To  these  causes,  in  different  measures,  no  doubt  the  Hellenic 
race  is  indebted  for  its  comparatively  safe  passage  through  about 
four  centuries  of  the  most  horrible  misrule  and  enslavement 
that  any  nation  has  ever  yet  endured.  Had  the  Turks  been  a 
kindred  race,  with  similar  institutions  for  the  basis  of  their 
society,  —  had  their  political  arrangements  been  such  that 
their  Christian  subjects  could  have  shared  in  their  benefits  on 
a  footing  of  equality,  —  it  seems  probable  that  four  centuries 
of  connection  would  so  far  have  blended  them  into  one  politi- 


THE   GREEK   REVOLUTION.  401? 

cal  body,  that  a  separation  on  the  grounds  of  the  war  of  the 
Revolution  would  scarcely  have  been  thought  of,  or  even  pos- 
sible. But  under  the  circumstances  I  have  detailed,  the  Greeks 
were  never  for  a  moment  allowed  to  forget  that  they  were  a 
different  race  from  their  rulers ;  of  a  different  religion  ;  de- 
spised as  slaves,  subject  to  every  insult,  every  outrage,  ev- 
ery oppression  which  proud,  cruel,  and  rapacious  masters,  in 
the  irresponsible  exercise  of  unlimited  power  and  the  unre- 
strained gratification  of  their  brutal  passions,  could  invent  or 
imagine.  Never  for  a  moment  did  they  or  could  they  regard 
the  Turks  in  any  other  light  than  that  of  violent  conquerors  ; 
never  for  a  moment  did  they  feel  themselves  divested  of  the 
right  to  rise  upon  their  oppressors,  and  drive  them  out  from  a 
land  in  which,  to  borrow  the  expression  of  a  French  writer, 
they  were  encamped,  but  not  established.  And  in  truth  there 
never  was  a  moment  when  the  Greek  people  were  not  fully 
entitled  to  reclaim  their  lost  liberties,  and  to  vindicate  their 
lovely  but  enslaved  country  by  driving  the  Tartar  tyrants  from 
the  regions  they  were  polluting  by  their  odious  presence.  What, 
to  the  Greeks  groaning  under  oppression,  were  the  treaties  of 
amity  between  the  Porte  and  the  great  powers  of  Europe  ? 
Those  treaties  might  interpose  obstacles  to  their  receiving 
aid  and  support  from  the  European  governments ;  they  could 
not  affect  the  moral  right  of  the  Greeks  to  emancipate  them- 
selves from  the  Turkish  yoke,  whenever  an  opportunity  should 
arise.  More  than  once  the  Greeks  have  mistaken  the  mo- 
ment, and  have  been  victims  to  serious  and  even  bloody  con- 
sequences of  an  error  in  judgment.  But  those  who  are  in  a 
position  of  intolerable  hardship  are  not  the  coolest  judges  of 
the  mode,  the  means,  and  the  time  of  throwing  off  the  crush- 
ing burden  under  which  they  are  bowed  to  the  earth.  It  is  a 
singular  fact  that  Russia  has  more  than  once  been  the  means 
of  pushing  the  Greeks  to  insurrection,  and  then,  having  accom- 
plished some  purpose  of  selfish  policy,  leaving  them  to  the  ten- 
der mercies  of  their  exasperated  oppressors.  So  far  as  the 
recent  movement  in  the  provinces  of  Thessaly  and  Epeirus  ha* 


410  MODERN   GREECE. 

been  effected  by  Russian  intrigues,  it  is  only  one  more  illustra- 
tion of  the  insidious  policy  of  the  Russian  government  in  mak- 
ing a  tool  of  the  excitability  and  enthusiasm  of  the  Hellenic 
race ;  but,  so  far  as  moral  right  is  concerned,  the  Greeks  of 
Thessaly  and  Epeirus  had  an  infinitely  stronger  case  against 
the  Turkish  government  than  any  of  the  nations  of  Europe 
had  against  the  despotisms  holding  them  in  chains  in  1848. 
The  Greeks  of  those  provinces  were  right  last  spring  in  rising 
against  the  Turks ;  they  were  wrong  in  putting  confidence  in 
Russia,  if  they  did  put  any  confidence  in  Russia  ;  and  they 
made  a  mistake  in  judgment  by  striking  for  independence  at 
a  moment  when  the  two  greatest  nations  were  close  allies  of 
Turkey,  and  in  open  war  with  the  foe  of  Turkey,  —  political 
relations  which  imposed  a  necessity  of  putting  down  a  move- 
ment for  independence  in  itself  as  just  as  any  warfare  ever 
waged  by  patriots  for  the  most  sacred  rights  of  man.  The 
struggles  of  the  Hungarians,  which  ended  so  disastrously,  ex- 
cited the  sensibilities  of  the  world ;  but  the  wrongs  enumerated 
by  the  Magyar  chiefs,  and  set  forth  with  marvellous  eloquence 
by  Kossuth,  were  nothing  —  absolutely  nothing  —  compared 
with  the  accumulated  weight  of  injuries,  for  the  emancipation 
from  which  the  Greeks  of  the  provinces  in  European  Turkey 
seized  the  present  crisis  of  the  Oriental  world  as  a  favorable 
and  long-looked-for  opportunity. 

This  feeling  of  the  Greeks  is  constantly  spoken  of  by  the 
travellers  who  visited  Greece  in  the  last  and  the  preceding 
centuries,  as  well  as  by  those  who  have  been  in  the  country 
since  the  commencement  of  the  present  century.  Old  Wheeler, 
who  was  in  Athens  in  1675,  says :  "  Although  the  little  hope 
the  Athenians  have  of  ever  gaining  their  liberty  from  the 
Turkish  tyranny  constrains  them  to  live  peaceably  under  their 
government,  without  running  into  rebellion  against  them,  or 
fomenting  any  factions  in  the  state,  yet  does  their  old  humor 
of  jealousy  still  continue."  This  work  is  one  of  the  most 
quaint  and  entertaining  accounts  of  Greece  in  our  language. 
The  monuments  of  Athens  were  still  in  a  good  state  of  preser- 


THE   GREEK   REVOLUTION.  411 

vation,  as  we  may  judge  not  only  by  his  descriptions,  but  by 
the  very  singular  drawings  with  which  his  work  is  illustrated. 
The  pious  temper  in  which  the  work  is  written  strikes  one 
pleasingly,  when  contrasted  with  the  flippant  or  indifferent  tone 
of  modern  books  of  travels.  To  be  sure,  it  was  a  greater  en- 
terprise to  visit  Greece  in  those  days  than  it  is  now.  After  he 
had  finished  his  travels,  he  says:  "  I  hasted  to  render  myself 
to  my  country,  and  to  the  long  wished-for  embraces  of  my 
parents,  relatives,  and  friends,  and  to  give  praise  to  God  for 
the  wonderful  things  he  had  done  for  my  soul There- 
fore, arriving  at  Canterbury,  its  metropolitan  throne,  November 
15, 1676,  transported  with  unspeakable  joy  at  the  singular  bliss 
of  my  country,  relatives,  and  friends,  far  exceeding  any  nation 
I  had  seen  beyond  our  British  seas,  I  offered  to  God  the  sac- 
rifice of  praise  and  thanksgiving,  resolving  forever  to  call  on 
his  great  name,  who  is  the  only  mighty  Preserver  of  mankind." 
And  he  ends  the  book  with  a  psalm  of  David,  appropriate  to 
the  occasion. 

About  a  century  later,  in  1764,  Chandler  made  the  tour  of 
Asia  Minor  and  Greece,  an  account  of  which  he  published. 
He  draws  a  similar  picture  of  the  state  of  the  country,  and  of 
the  eagerness  of  the  people  in  looking  for  encouraging  tokens 
that  a  better  state  of  things  was  about  to  be  inaugurated.  In 
1809,  when  Hobhouse  travelled  in  Greece,  the  feelings  of  the 
Greeks  had  grown  so  much  stronger,  that,  as  he  relates,  a  com- 
mon commencement  of  a  conversation  with  them  was,  "Your 
Excellency  will  find  but  poor  fare  in  our  country  ;  but  you  are 
not  in  Christendom.  What  can  be  done  amongst  these  beasts  of 
Turks  ?  "  Their  detestation  of  their  masters  broke  out  on  every 
occasion  ;  and  when  the  chanter  from  the  minaret  announced 
the  death  of  a  Mahometan,  every  Greek  that  met  his  friend 
in  the  street  saluted  him  thus  :  *  Aired  ave  (tkv\i,  *'  A  dog  is 
dead."  "  The  archons  who  enjoy  the  confidence  of  the  Turks 
are  infected  with  the  same  spirit,  and,  in  proportion  as  they  are 
more  powerful,  feel  a  stronger  desire  of  revenge." 

In  the  reign  of   Catharine  II.,   in  the    year  1768,   a  war 


412  MODERN    GREECE. 

broke  out  between  Turkey  and  Russia.  The  crafty  Empress 
endeavored,  and  with  instant  success,  to  rouse  the  Greek  na- 
tion to  throw  off  the  yoke,  inspiring  them  with  the  hope  of  re- 
covering their  ancient  liberty.  Two  years  previously,  a  Greek 
who  had  been  in  the  Russian  army  had  been  despatched  into 
the  Peloponnesus  to  prepare  the  insurrection ;  and  in  1769,  a 
Russian  fleet,  under  the  command  of  Orloff,  came  to  the  Pelo- 
ponnesus. The  population  flew  to  arms.  The  Turkish  gov- 
ernment poured  a  host  of  Albanians  into  the  Peloponnesus,  and 
suppressed  the  revolt  with  immense  slaughter.  OrlofF,  witness- 
ing the  ill  success  of  the  attempt,  forgot  his  promises,  and  sailed 
away,  leaving  the  Greeks  to  their  fate.  An  Armatole  chieftain, 
named  Androuzos,  distinguished  himself  by  feats  of  eminent 
bravery  in  this  affair ;  and  a  body  of  four  hundred  Laconians 
showed  themselves  not  unworthy  descendants  of  the  heroes  of 
Thermopylae.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  peace  between  Russia 
and  the  Porte,  the  provinces  which  had  received  the  Russians, 
or  were  suspected  of  having  co-operated  with  them,  were  heav- 
ily punished.  The  patriarch  Meletios  was  tortured,  and  then 
banished.  Large  fines  were  inflicted  on  the  wealthier  classes. 
The  city  of  Moschopolis  was  plundered  and  destroyed.  Three 
thousand  of  the  inhabitants  of  Tricca  were  killed.  Many  La- 
rissseans  were  slain,  and  their  only  church  was  demolished ; 
priests  and  magistrates  were  beheaded  in  Lemnos ;  and  the 
Christians  of  Smyrna  were  indiscriminately  massacred  as  they 
came  out  of  the  church.  The  enormities  committed  by  the 
Albanians  in  Peloponnesus  were  indescribable  ;  and  the  ques- 
tion was  debated  in  the  Divan,  whether  it  would  not  be  ad- 
visable to  seize  this  opportunity  of  extirpating  the  entire  Hel- 
lenic race.  But,  by  the  influence  of  Hassan  Pacha,  milder 
counsels  prevailed,  and  he  was  intrusted  with  the  pacification 
of  the  Peloponnesus.  This  he  accomplished  by  calling  to  his 
aid  the  mountain  Klephts,  by  whom  the  Albanians  were  speed- 
'ly  driven  from  the  country.  The  family  of  Colocotrones,  one 
of  whom,  Theodore,  played  so  conspicuous  a  part  in  the  war 
of  independence,  first  appear  as  leaders  at  this  crisis. 


THE   GREEK  REVOLUTION.  413 

In  1787,  war  was  renewed  between  Russia  and  Turkey, 
and  new  commotions  again  agitated  Greece.  Lampros,  a 
Lebadeian,  who  had  taken  part  in  the  former  insurrection, 
supported  by  many  wealthy  merchants  of  Smyrna  and  Con- 
stantinople, led  a  naval  expedition  against  the  Turks  with  con- 
siderable effect ;  and  about  the  same  time  the  Souliotes  of 
Epeirus,  who  for  a  century  had  maintained  their  indepen- 
dence among  the  mountains,  commenced  their  heroic  struggle 
with  the  cruel  and  crafty  Ali  Pacha.  They  were  joined  by 
many  Thessalian  warriors,  of  whom  the  most  distinguished  was 
Androuzos,  who,  since  the  insurrection  of  1769,  had  led  a 
wandering  life,  constantly  pursued  by  the  Turks,  and  with  dif- 
ficulty escaping  the  dangers  by  which  he  was  encompassed. 
A  treaty  of  peace  was  again  concluded  between  Russia  and 
Turkey  in  1792.  Androuzos  attempted  to  escape  into  Russia 
through  Venice  ;  but  he  was  surrendered  by  the  Venetians 
to  the  Turks,  sent  to  Constantinople,  and  there  put  to  death. 
The  Souliotes  continued  the  war  until  1803,  when  they  were 
obliged  to  come  to  terms  with  the  Pacha  ;  but,  with  the  cruelty 
and  perfidy  natural  to  his  character,  he  violated  his  plighted 
faith.  Many  of  those  brave  men  fell  a  sacrifice  to  his  false- 
hood ;  others  escaped  to  Parga  and  the  Ionian  Islands,  and,  as 
a  Greek  historian  says,  "  afterwards  avenged  the  treachery  of 
the  Turks  in  a  thousand  battles." 

But  there  were  other  circumstances  which  contributed  more 
powerfully  than  these  external  relations  to  prepare  the  heart  of 
the  people  for  the  desperate  struggle.  Foremost  among  these 
were  the  increase  of  commercial  wealth  and  the  revival  of  edu- 
cation. The  islands  of  Hydra,  Spezzia,  and  Psara  rose  sud- 
denly into  great  mercantile  importance,  and  their  ships  were 
Been  in  every  port  from  the  Crimea  to  Gibraltar.  In  all  the 
cities  of  the  East  the  leading  commercial  houses  were  those  of 
the  Greek  merchants,  and  institutions  for  the  education  of  chil- 
dren were  speedily  endowed  by  these  enterprising  men.  The 
famous  school  of  Joannina,  which  has  contributed  largely  to  the 
literature  of  modern  Greece,  dates  back  as  far  as  1690.    Pupils 


414  MODERN   GREECE. 

from  that  school  established  themselves,  in  the  last  century,  ir 
all  the  principal  places  in  the  North  of  Greece.  In  the  middle 
of  the  eighteenth  century  a  second  school  was  established  ir 
Joannina  by  Eugenios,  called  the  Bulgarian,  who,  born  in 
Corfou  in  1716,  and  educated  in  Italy,  was  appointed  pro- 
fessor in  Joannina  in  1742,  and  from  that  station,  by  his  com- 
manding talents  and  his  great  eloquence,  exercised  an  influence 
over  all  Greece.  He  was  afterwards  called  to  Macedonia,  and 
at  last  removed  to  St.  Petersburg,  where  he  died  in  1806 
Nicephoros  Theotokios,  also  from  Corfou,  was  an  eminent 
teacher  and  writer,  whose  works,  published  at  the  expense  of 
a  liberal  family  of  merchants,  the  Zosimadae,  were  widely  cir- 
culated among  his  countrymen.  Schools  were  established  at 
Bucharest  and  other  cities  of  Moldavia  and  Wallaclua,  and 
many  distinguished  teachers  besides  those  already  named  co- 
operated in  the  great  work  of  spreading  the  light  of  letters 
among  their  compatriots  throughout  the  Turkish  Empire. 
Schools  were  founded  on  Mount  Athos,  colleges  at  Smyrna, 
Scio,  and  Patmos,  and  literature  was  again  cultivated  by  those 
holding  the  highest  places  in  the  Church  at  Constantinople, 
Jerusalem,  and  Athens.  Many  young  men  were  sent  to  the 
universities  of  Europe,  and  contributed  not  a  little,  on  their  re- 
turn, to  disseminate  a  taste  for  European  letters  and  science. 
Writers  began  to  cultivate  the  spoken  Greek  as  an  organ  of 
communication  with  the  people;  the  literary  classes  generally, 
almost  up  to  the  eighteenth  century,  having  adhered  to  the 
ancient  form  of  the  language.  In  the  last  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  an  immense  number  of  European  works  on  history, 
ethics,  and  philosophy  were  translated  into  Greek  ;  the  number 
of  schools  was  multiplied,  and  there  was  a  general  intellectual 
excitement  throughout  the  Hellenic  population. 

The  ability  and  acquirements  of  the  conquered  people  did  not 
fail  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  government ;  and  the  need 
of  such  talent  and  knowledge  being  more  and  more  felt  in  the 
multiplying  relations  between  Turkey  and  the  European  gov 
ernments,  mam  individuals  among  the  Greeks  were  summoned 


THE   GREEK  REVOLUTION.  415 

to  the  service  of  the  Porte  in  various  diplomatic  and  civil  ca- 
pacities. In  the  seventeenth  century,  a  Greek  gentleman  of 
a  Trebizond  family,  Panagiotaki  by  name,  was  raised  to  the 
dignity  of  grand  interpreter,  or  Dragoman,  of  the  Porte,  which 
gave  him  opportunities  that  he  did  not  neglect  of  protecting 
his  nation  from  the  barbarities  of  the  Turks.  His  successor 
was  Alexander  Mavrocordatos,  a  native  of  Scio, — the  first 
prominent  possessor  of  a  name  which  has  since  been,  and  is 
at  this  moment,  the  most  illustrious  in  Greece.  He  studied 
medicine  and  other  sciences  in  Italy,  and  afterwards  went  to 
Constantinople,  where  he  practised  his  profession  and  held  the 
chair  of  elegant  literature  in  the  patriarchal  school.  He  was 
accused  by  the  Turks  of  magic,  because  he  judged  of  diseases 
by  feeling  the  pulse ;  and  he  was  the  first  man  in  the  Turkish 
capital  who  explained  the  circulation  of  the  blood.  He  gained 
the  confidence  of  the  government,  and  was  able  to  contribute 
largely  to  the  progress  of  culture,  not  only  by  his  elegant  writ- 
ings, but  by  the  establishment  and  endowment  of  schools  in 
European  Turkey  and  Asia  Minor,  and  by  sending  many 
young  men  to  the  universities  of  Europe.  Some  of  these  dis- 
tinguished themselves  in  literature,  writing  both  in  ancient  and 
in  modern  Greek.  The  son  of  Alexander,  Nicholas  Mavrocor- 
datos, was  the  first  Greek  who  rose  to  the  dignity  of  Hospodar 
of  Wallachia ;  and  his  successors,  the  Greek  Hospodars  of  Wal- 
lachia  and  Moldavia,  —  the  Mourouzes  and  Soutsos  families,  — 
labored  effectively  for  the  advancement  of  the  rude  populations 
of  those  haH-civilized  provinces,  both  in  learning  and  in  the 
practical  arts.  Among  other  services,  they  caused  the  Bible 
and  the  Liturgy  of  the  Greek  Church  to  be  translated  into  the 
Slavonic  dialects  of  those  countries. 

There  existed  for  many  years  a  secret  society  or  club  called 
the  Hetairia,  having  for  its  object  the  improvement  of  Greece 
and  its  final  emancipation.  Like  other  secret  societies,  it  had 
its  orders  or  degrees,  from  the  common  member  up  to  the 
Grand  Arch,  with  its  sonorous  titles  and  insignificant  myste- 
ries, its  signs,  known  only  to  the  initiated,  its  peculiar  cipher. 


416  MODERN   GREECE. 

and  its  means  of  rapid  communication.  Unlike  most  ether  se- 
cret societies,  it  had  a  reason  for  its  secrecy,  and  that  was  a  good 
one;  it  had  a  high  object  to  be  accomplished, — the  deliver- 
ance of  a  down-trodden  race.  The  most  prominent  Greeks  in 
foreign  cities  were  its  leading  members  ;  and  throughout  con- 
tinental Greece  affiliated  branches  were  established,  in  spite  of 
the  presence  of  the  Turks,  who  appear  not  to  have  been  aware 
of  the  mine  that  was  preparing  to  explode  beneath  their  feet. 
This  society  was  one  of  the  most  efficient  agencies  in  bringing 
about  the  war  of  the  Revolution. 

Among  the  individuals  whose  names  will  always  be  memo- 
rable in  the  history  of  Hellenic  liberty  there  are  two  which 
shine  with  conspicuous  lustre ;  these  are  Coraes  and  Rhigns. 
Adamantios  Coraes,  or  Coray,  was  born  at  Smyrna,  accord- 
ing to  his  autobiography,  in  1748.  At  a  very  early  age  he 
showed  a  great  eagerness  for  knowledge  ;  and  his  tastes  were 
favored  by  his  father  and  mother,  whose  chief  object  in  life 
was  the  education  of  their  children,  and  by  his  grandfather, 
who  had  been  for  many  years  the  teacher  of  an  Hellenic 
school  in  Chios,  and  who  at  his  death  left  a  small  classical 
library  to  be  inherited  by  the  first  of  his  descendants  who 
should  distinguish  himself  in  letters.  The  prize  was  won  by 
Adamantios.  He  prosecuted  his  studies  with  unwearied  zeal, 
extending  them  to  the  Hebrew  and  Arabic.  "  At  that  time," 
says  he,  (1764,)  "  and  in  the  condition  of  the  family,  any  other 
father,  without  exception,  from  among  the  citizens  of  Smyrna, 
hearing  that  his  son  was  looking  out  for  a  teacher  of  Hebrew, 
would  have  sent  for  a  physician,  thinking  he  was  mad.  But 
my  excellent  and  thoughtful  father  contented  himself  with  ask- 
ing me  what  was  the  use  of  the  Hebrew  tongue.  When  I 
told  him  it  helped  to  a  better  understanding  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, h°  answered,  '  Good !  begin  then.'  I  have  never  been 
able  to  recall  this  laconic  answer  without  tears.  I  often  wanted 
a  new  dress  for  the  festivals  of  the  Church,  like  other  young 
people ;  and  he  put  me  off  from  Christmas  to  Easter,  and  from 
Easter  to  Christmas  ;  but  whenever  I  wanted  a  teacher  or  a 


THE   GREEK  REVOLUTION.  41 

bock,  or  any  other  means  and  appliances  of  instruction,  he 
never  put  me  off."  In  1772  the  young  man  went  to  Amster- 
dam, where  he  remained  in  a  commercial  house  six  years,  giv- 
ing all  his  leisure  to  literary  pursuits.  "  My  innate  hatred  of 
the  Turks,"  says  he,  "  grew  almost  to  frenzy  from  the  moment 
I  tasted  the  liberty  of  a  well-regulated  community.  To  my 
mind,  Turk  and  wild  beast  became  synonymous  terms,  and  are 
so  still "  (1828).  In  1778  he  returned  to  his  native  place, 
arriving  there  a  few  days  after  the  great  fire,  in  which  a  large 
part  of  the  city,  including  his  father's  house,  was  consumed. 
His  parents  were  anxious  to  keep  him  at  home.  They  tried 
every  means  of  dissuading  him  from  his  purpose  of  visiting 
France  to-  study  medicine.  "  At  length,"  says  he,  "  they  held 
out  the  bait  of  matrimony  in  the  hope  of  changing  my  mind  ; 
and  certainly  this  bait  would  have  caught  me,  both  on  account 
of  my  youth  and  the  beauty  and  wealth  of  the  girl,  the  orphan 
daughter  of  a  very  rich  father,  had  not  the  love  of  liberty 
forced  me  to  scorn  all  other  loves.  My  parents,  seeing  that 
even  this  failed  to  weaken  my  resolve,  and  fearing  for  the  state 
of  my  health,  at  last  gave  their  consent."  In  1782  he  arrived 
at  Montpellier,  where  he  remained  six  years,  engaged  in  study, 
supporting  himself  in  part  by  his  works.  In  1788  he  removed 
to  Paris,  taking  with  him  letters  of  introduction  to  the  princi- 
pal medical  men  of  the  capital.  His  literary  life  in  Paris  forms 
part  of  the  intellectual  history  of  the  age.  He  died  in  Paris  in 
1833,  at  the  age  of  eighty-five,  true  to  his  love  of  liberty  and 
of  letters  and  his  contempt  of  all  other  loves ;  for  he  remained 
wedded  only  to  study.  His  writings  on  the  state  of  Greece  and 
on  the  Greek  language,  his  editions  of  several  of  the  classics, 
and  his  animated  exhortations  to  his  countrymen,  gave  him  an 
unbounded  influence ;  and  for  the  space  of  forty  years  he  may 
be  said  to  have  guided  the  education  of  his  people.  He  was 
the  first  of  the  modern  Greeks  who  enjoyed  the  respect  of 
the  scientific  and  literary  men  of  Europe,  and  was  the  first 
to  proclaim  to  the  world  that  the  Hellenic  race  could  no  longer 
be  held  in  slavery.     He  was  unable,  on  account  of  his  age  and 

TOL.    II.  27 


418  MODERN   GREECE. 

infirmities,  to  take  a  personal  part  in  the  struggle  when  it 
came ;  but  the  vigor  of  his  pen  and  the  excellence  of  his  char- 
acter were  worth  more  to  the  cause  than  a  thousand  swords. 

Constantinos  Rhigas  has  been  called  the  Tyrtaeus  of  modern 
Greece.  He  was  born  at  Velestina,  a  small  town  in  Thessaly, 
in  1753.  Early  in  life  he  went  to  Bucharest,  and  remained 
there  until  1790,  engaged  in  commerce,  and  afterwards  holding 
the  office  of  professor.  He  was  accomplished  in  the  ancient 
Greek,  and  in  the  literature  and  languages  of  Modern  Europe. 
The  excitement  of  the  French  Revolution  had  its  natural  effect 
upon  his  ardent  temperament,  and  he  formed  plans  more  gen- 
erous than  prudent  for  the  redemption  of  his  own  country. 
He  was  the  principal  founder  of  the  Hetairia,  under  which 
name  he  published  lyric  ballads  of  a  spirited  and  stirring  char- 
acter, which  rang  like  a  trumpet  through  Greece.  He  re- 
paired to  Vienna  in  1796,  where  at  that  time  many  rich  Greek 
families  were  established,  in  the  hope  of  rousing  them  to  imme- 
diate action, — 

"  To  trample  the  turban  and  show  their  true  worth, 
As  the  sons  and  the  namesakes  of  the  godlike  on  earth." 

From  Vienna  he  held  a  correspondence  with  the  friends  of  his 
country  all  over  Europe,  and  occupied  himself  at  the  same 
time  with  the  publication  of  a  Greek  journal ;  but  all  his  liter- 
ary activity  was  concentrated  upon  the  generous  object  of  lib- 
erating his  country.  His  poems  were  circulated  and  sung 
everywhere.  The  Greek  merchants  of  Vienna  embraced  the 
cause  with  patriotic  ardor.  But  the  Ottoman  Minister  at 
Vienna  discovered  his  plans,  by  the  treachery  of  a  false  friend, 
and  he,  with  eight  companions,  was  denounced  to  the  Austrian 
authorities  as  a  conspirator.  The  Austrian  government,  with 
characteristic  barbarity,  handed  them  over  to  the  Turkish  au- 
thorities. The  guard  who  were  to  conduct  him  to  Constanti- 
nople, fearing  an  uprising  and  a  rescue,  resolved  to  put  him  to 
death  on  their  arrival  at  Belgrade.  Torture  was  applied  to 
force  him  to  betray  the  names  of  his  associates ;  but  the  extrem- 
ity of  agony  failed  to  overcome  his  steadfast  resolution.     At 


THE   GREEK  REVOLUTION.  419 

the  place  of  execution  he  broke  the  cords  by  which  he  was 
bound,  and  killed  two  of  the  murderers  ;  but  he  was  overcome 
by  numbe/s,  and,  with  his  companions,  was  immediately  be- 
headed. Thus  perished,  at  the  age  of  forty-five,  this  illustrious 
patriot  and  poet,  surrendered  by  a  government  calling  itself 
Christian  into  the  hands  of  a  merciless  despotism,  his  only 
crime  being  his  love  of  country,  and  perhaps  a  too  rash  devotion 
to  the  object  for  which  alone  he  lived.  But  he  died  a  martyr 
to  a  glorious  cause  ;  and  his  death  is  only  one  of  those  atro- 
cious acts  for  which  the  government  of  Austria  —  concealing 
the  remorseless  cruelty  of  Oriental  despotism  under  the  gar- 
nish of  Christian  civilization  —  is  held  to  a  stern  account  at  the 
bar  of  history  and  in  the  judgment  of  humanity.  The  refusal 
of  the  present  kind-hearted  Sultan  to  surrender  the  Hungarian 
fugitives  was  hardly  the  return  to  be  expected  for  such  a  com- 
pliance with  the  demand  of  his  father ;  and  the  lesson  taught 
to  the  autocratic  powers  of  Christian  Europe  is  one  not  readily 
forgotten  by  the  world. 

Since  the  occasion  is  past,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  the  songs  of 
Rhigas  owed  something  of  their  effect  to  the  circumstances 
and  feelings  of  the  time.  But  they  have  solid  merits,  which 
will  make  them  always  dear  to  the  memory^of  his  countrymen. 
At  this  moment,  they  are  learned  by  heart  and  recited  with 
contagious  ardor  by  the  Greeks.  The  enthusiasm  kindled  by 
the  name  and  works  of  Rhigas  among  the  Greeks  in  1809  — 10 
is  well  illustrated  by  Mr.  Hobhouse.  One  day  he  was  playing 
chess  with  a  young  Greek  gentleman,  the  son  of  a  person  of 
high  rank  in  Peloponnesus,  Mr.  Londos,  who  has  since  borne 
a  distinguished  part  in  the  politics  of  Greece.  "  On  hearing 
the  name  of  Rhigas,"  says  Mr.  Hobhouse,  "  he  jumped  sud- 
denly from  the  sofa,  threw  over  the  board,  and,  clasping  his 
hands,  repeated  the  name  of  the  patriot  with  a  thousand  pas- 
sionate exclamations,  the  tears  streaming  down  his  cheeks.  He 
recit-  '  with  ecstasy  the  war-song  of  that  unfortunate  Greek." 
It  was  the  song  :>f  which  Lord  Byron  translated  two  or  three 
stanzas. 


420  MODERN   GREECE.  v 

*:  Sons  of  the  Greeks,  arise, 

The  glorious  hour  's  gone  forth , 
And,  worthy  of  such  ties, 

Display  who  gave  us  birth. 
Son  of  the  Greeks  !  let  us  go 
In  arms  against  the  foe, 
Till  their  hated  blood  shall  flow 

In  a  river  past  our  feet. 

Sparta,  Sparta,  why  in  slumbers 

Lethargic  dost  thou  lie  1 
Awake,  and  join  thy  numbers 

With  Athens,  old  ally  ! 
Leonidas  recalling, 

That  chief  of  ancient  song, 
^ho  saved  ye  once  from  falling,  — 

The  terrible,  the  strong  !  — 
Who  made  that  bold  diversion 

In  old  Thermopylae ; 
And,  warring  with  the  Persian 

To  keep  his  country  free, 
With  his  three  hundred  waging 

The  battle,  long  he  stood, 
And,  like  a  lion  raging, 

Expired  in  seas  of  blood." 

Another  of  his  pieces,  called  nporpeTTTiKov,  or  Rallying 
Song,  is  still  more  spirited.  It  is  in  the  popular  style,  and 
appeals  to  the  Klephts  with  an  admirable  adaptation  to  their 
peculiar  character :  — 

"  How  long,  ye  braves,  must  we  in  gorges  live, 
Lonely,  like  lions,  on  the  mountain-sides, 
And  dwell  in  caverns,  sheltered  by  the  boughs, 
And  fly  the  world,  from  bitter  slavery's  yoke, 
Our  brothers  leaving  country,  parents,  friends, 
Our  children  leaving  all  who  share  our  blood  1 
Better  one  hour  of  life  with  liberty, 
Than  forty  years  of  slavery  and  chains." 

Another  poet,  Polyzois,  sings  in  a  similar  vain  :  — 

"  Friends  and  countrymen,  shall  we 
Slaves  of  Moslems  ever  be, 
Of  the  old  barbaric  band, 
Tyrants  o'er  Hellenic  land  ? 
Draws  the  hour  of  vengeance  nigh,  — 
Vengeance  !  be  our  battle  cry  ! " 


THE   GREEK  REVOLUTION.  421 

Such  were  the  motive-powers  which  impelled  the  Greeks  to 
seek  their  restoration  among  the  nations  of  the  earth,  —  an  in- 
extinguishable nationality,  which,  when  nearly  destroyed  in 
city  and  plain,  took  refuge  among  the  mountains,  and  breathed 
the  wild  air  of  forest  freedom  ;  the  reviving  spirit  of  liberty  in 
the  eighteenth  century ;  the  enterprise  and  wealth  of  energetic 
individuals  of  the  race  scattered  over  the  world,  and  rising  su- 
perior to  the  slavery  in  which  they  were  born  ;  the  rapid  im- 
provement of  education,  and  the  diffusion  of  Western  science 
by  the  newly  founded  schools  and  colleges ;  the  powerful  in- 
spiration of  poetry  appealing  to  great  recollections  and  mighty 
hopes.  Was  there,  in  the  heart  of  the  people,  a  soundness  and 
vigor  which  could  respond  to  such  appeals  ?  Was  there  in 
their  cause  a  justification  of  such  appeals?  Did  they  deserve 
to  succeed  in  the  struggle  which  so  many  brave  spirits  had 
toiled  and  suffered  in  preparing  ? 

The  insurrection  was  opened  by  Prince  Alexander  Ypse- 
lanti,  selected  by  the  Hetairia,  at  the  head  of  the  Greeks  of 
Moldavia,  who  issued  a  proclamation  in  March,  1821,  that  all 
the  Greeks  had  on  that  day  thrown  off  the  Turkish  yoke. 
Within  a  few  weeks,  the  provinces  of  the  Peloponnesus  and 
the  other  parts  of  Greece  had  risen  in  arms.  Among  the  most 
gallant  leaders  of  the  opening  scenes  of  the  war  was  Germa- 
nos,  Archbishop  of  Patras.  At  Constantinople  a  suspicion  al- 
ready existed  that  a  conspiracy  was  forming  among  the  Greek 
inhabitants  of  the  city;  and  when  the  information  arrived  of 
the  movements  in  Greece,  the  most  rigorous  measures  were 
taken  against  the  Greeks.  Their  schools  were  suppressed ;  their 
arms  were  seized  ;  their  total  destruction  was  proposed  in 
council ;  women  and  children  were  thrown  into  the  sea ;  and 
Prince  Mourouzes  was  beheaded  in  the  Seraglio.  A  proclama- 
tion called  on  all  Moslems  to  arm  against  the  rebels,  and  the 
wildest  and  most  ferocious  fanaticism  prevailed  in  the  capital. 
In  the  streets  where  the  Greeks  resided,  bodies  of  the  dead  and 
dying  were  everywhere  to  be  seen.  Ten  thousand  persons  dis- 
appeared in  the  first  few  days  ;  ana  before  three  months  had 


422  MODERN   GREECE. 

passed,  it  is  supposed  that  more  than  thirty  thousand  Greeks 
were  butchered  in  different  cities  of  the  Empire.  The  Beys 
of  Greece  struggled  in  vain  to  smother  the  insurrection.  Nei- 
ther cruelty  nor  cajolery  —  and  both  were  tried  —  had  the 
slightest  effect.  The  resolution  to  strike  for  liberty  was  uni- 
versal and  unchangeable  ;  and  the  massacres  were  renewed  at 
the  capital.  Gregory,  the  Patriarch  of  Constantinople,  then 
eighty  years  of  age,  three  bishops,  and  eight  priests,  were  seized 
by  the  order  of  the  Grand  Vizier,  as  they  were  leaving  the 
mass,  and  hung  in  their  robes  before  the  principal  gates  of  the 
church.  The  lifeless  body  of  the  Patriarch,  two  days  after  the 
murder,  was  cut  down,  dragged  through  the  streets,  and  thrown 
into  the  sea.  It  was  taken  up  by  Greek  sailors,  carried  to 
Odessa,  and  there  honored  with  a  magnificent  funeral. 

In  the  army  of  Prince  Ypselanti  were  many  of  the  noblest 
young  men,  the  very  flower  of  the  Grecian  youth.  Five  hun- 
dred students  rallied  at  the  call  of  their  country,  and,  enrolling 
themselves  as  the  Sacred  Band,  with  a  uniform  of  black,  and  the 
Spartan  motto  on  their  standard,  H  rav  77  eiri  rav, —  "  Either 
this  or  on  this,"  —  placed  themselves  under  the  command  of 
the  Prince.  Four  hundred  of  this  gallant  troop  perished  in  the 
battle  of  Dragaschan  on  the  19th  of  June,  and  the  rest  were 
dispersed.     Such  was  the  ill-omened  beginning  of  the  conflict. 

This  is  not  the  occasion  for  detailing  the  history  of  the  war 
of  Grecian  independence.  Its  general  features  are  all  that 
come  properly  within  my  scope,  with  a  few  of  the  leading 
events,  by  which  its  course  was  determined  and  its  character 
defined. 

It  is  well  remarked  by  Mr.  Tricoupi,  in  his  excellent  history, 
that  the  Greek  Revolution  is  distinguished  from  other  revolu- 
tions by  some  peculiar  and  very  important  characteristics.  It 
attempted  to  put  a  check  neither  on  absolutism  nor  on  despot- 
ism ;  neither  to  change  the  local  government,  nor  to  break 
the  bonds  of  union  with  the  mother  country.  It  aimed  at  a 
mightier  and  more  glorious  object  than  all  these, —  to  expel 
from  Greece,  by  force  of  arms,  an  alien  race  of  am  ther  fait::. 


THE   GREEK  REVOLUTION.  423 

who  had  conquered  her  by  arms  ages  before,  and  to  the  last 
continued  to  regard  her  as  their  captive  and  subject  to  their 
sword. 

"  This  war,"  writes  Mr.  Tricoupi,  "  broke  out  between  two 
nations,  living  indeed  in  Europe,  but  ignorant  of  the  military 
art  and  the  political  science  by  which  all  the  rest  of  Europe 
was  and  is  distinguished ;  and  for  this  reason  it  may  be  re- 
garded as  a  political  and  military  anomaly  in  the  midst  of  the 
political  ,and  military  science  of  the  present  day,  often  remind- 
ing us,  by  many  of  its  events  and  catastrophes,  of  the  heroic 
times  of  ancient  Hellas.  Greece  declared  and  proclaimed,  be- 
fore God  and  all  mankind,  at  the  beginning  of  her  contest,  that 
she  aimed  to  break  the  foreign  yoke,  and  to  recover  her  na- 
tionality and  her  independence." 

The  disproportion  between  the  resources  of  the  contend- 
ing parties  is  another  circumstance  worthy  of  consideration. 
The  party  which  fought  to  throw  off  the  yoke  for  years, 
without  support  from  other  quarters,  was  estimated  at  one 
twentieth  of  the  enemy ;  and  their  resources  were  trifling  in 
comparison,  because  they  were  the  resources  of  private  in- 
dividuals, contrasted  with  those  of  an  ancient  and  powerful 
despotism.  "The  happy  and  unlooked-for  result  is  sufficient  to 
breathe  courage  into  suffering  and  outraged  nations,  when,  poor 
and  powerless,  they  engage  with  firm  resolve  in  the  sacred 
struggle  for  faith  and  fatherland,  for  freedom  and  for  justice, 
for  national  honor  and  happiness,  against  spiritual  oppression 
and  the  devastation  of  their  country,  slavery  and  wrong, 
national  annihilation  and  general  wretchedness." 

The  passions  out  of  which  the  struggle  grew  determined  its 
character  ;  —  on  the  one  side  the  habit  of  tyranny,  rapine,  and 
oppression,  and  the  contempt  of  barbarian  masters  for  those 
whom  they  had  so  long  oppressed ;  on  the  other,  a  sleepless 
sense  of  wrong  and  desire  of  revenge  mingling  with  and  in- 
fill nrng  the  love  of  country,  the  consciousness  of  superior  in- 
te'lect,  and  reverence  for  the  illustrious  memories  of  the  past. 
Religious  hatred,  the  fiercest  perhaps  of  all  human  passions, 


424  MODERN   GREECE 

gave  intensity  to  resolve,  and  steeled  the  hearts  of  the  con 
tending  parties  against  sympathy  and  pity.  Hatred  of  race 
was  another  irritating  element  among  the  complicated  passions 
which  envenomed  the  strife.  But,  after  all,  it  was  a  desperate 
struggle  of  barbarism,  misplaced  in  this  century,  against  reviv- 
ing civilization  and  the  Christian  faith.  It  was  this  circum- 
stance which  gathered  around  the  Grecian  cause  the  hearty 
sympathies,  the  fervent  prayers,  the  effective  co-operation  of 
Christian  men  everywhere.  For  years  after  the  commencement 
of  the  struggle  the  cabinets  of  Europe,  indeed,  looked  coldly 
on.  More  than  once  the  cry  for  help  was  answered  by  the 
disheartening  response,  "  Let  the  Greek  rebels  return  to  their 
allegiance  to  their  lawful  sovereign," — as  if  at  any  moment 
of  the  four  centuries  of  their  enslavement  there  was  a  single 
element  of  legal  sovereignty  in  the  oppressive  rule  of  the 
Turks,  —  a  single  moment  when  the  Christian  victims  had  not 
a  right  to  use  every  means  within  their  reach  to  reclaim  the 
freedom,  theirs  by  inheritance,  and  ravished  from  them  by 
overpowering  wrong !  And  so  the  great  powers  of  Europe 
were  forced,  by  the  irresistible  course  of  events,  to  acknowl- 
edge, when  the  contest  was  drawing  nigh  to  its  conclusion. 
"  For  the  first  time,"  as  the  Greek  historian  truly  remarks, 
"  the  discordant  politics  of  Europe  harmonized,  and  listened  to 
the  salutary  precepts  of  morality,  and  the  sacred  voice  of  suf- 
fering humanity." 

The  war  became  at  once  a  struggle  for  life  and  death.  The 
needless  butcheries  with  which  the  Turks  commenced  their 
repressive  measures,  the  deep  wound  they  inflicted  on  the  re- 
ligious sensibility  of  the  people  by  the  brutal  murder  of  the 
gray-haired  patriarch,  and  the  outrages  everywhere  committed 
upon  women  and  children,  taught  the  Greeks,  if  they  needed 
any  lesson  on  the .  subject,  what  mercy  was  to  be  dealt  out 
to  them  by  their  enraged  masters.  The  Greeks  themselves 
were  not  in  a  condition  to  carry  on  the  struggle  according  to 
the  rules  of  modern  warfare.  Their  military  forces  were  not 
supplied    and   disciplined   like  the  armies    of  Europe.      The 


THE   GREEK   REVOLUTION.  425 

Armatoles  and  Klephts  were  brave,  but  irregular  fighters , 
and  the  chiefs  were  unaccustomed  to  act  in  concert,  under  a 
superior  authority,  and  through  well-concerted  campaigns. 
A  sudden  attack,  a  rapidly  executed  foray,  an  expedition  for 
plunder,  an  instant  retreat  to  the  mountains,  with  the  spoils 
and  prisoners  they  had  hastily  seized,  —  these  were  the  exploits 
they  were  accustomed  to  achieve.  No  law  of  nations  existed 
between  Greeks  and  Turks :  it  was  the  law  of  war,  in  its  sim- 
plest and  rudest  forms,  according  to  which  enmity  ceases  not 
when  the  fight  is  over,  victory  is  only  half  won  by  the  enemy's 
defeat,  and  conquest  must  be  consummated  by  his  annihilation. 

Unfortunately,  Greece  had  no  one  man  like  Washington  or 
Alfred  to  whom  she  could  look  up  with  implicit  confidence,  as 
her  guide  and  saviour.  She  had  many  daring  chiefs  and  some, 
wise  counsellors,  but  most  of  them  were  men  of  limited  in- 
fluence, and  some  had  but  narrow  and  even  selfish  views. 
Greece  was  poor  in  resources,  and  had  no  credit  in  the  money 
markets  of  the  world.  With  all  these  apparently  insuperable 
difficulties,  it  is  surprising  how  readily  the  old  instinct  of  legal- 
ity and  political  order  revived  among  the  Greeks  when  the  re- 
sponsibility of  conducting  a  national  conflict  fairly  began  to  be 
felt.  Mavrocordatos  formed  a  local  government  in  the  western 
part  of  Greece  ;  in  the  eastern  part,  a  local  council,. called  the 
Areopagus,  assumed  the  control,  under  the  presidency  of  Theo- 
dore Negris ;  a  Peloponnesian  Gerousia,  or  Senate,  of  twenty 
members,  assembled  at  Argos,  under  the  presidency  of  Prince 
Demetrius  Ypselanti :  and  these  three  governments,  under  the 
persuasion  of  Mavrocordatos,  undertook  to  form  a  constitution 
and  a  central  government  for  confederated  Greece.  The  first 
national  assembly  of  Greece,  consisting  of  sixty-seven  deputies, 
assembled  *in  January,  1822,  at  Epidaurus,  and  proceeded  at 
once  to  frame  a  provisional  constitution.  They  proclaimed  the 
national  independence  in  the  following  terms :  — 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Holy  and  Indivisible  Trinity.  The 
Greek  nation,  under  the  frightful  tyranny  of  the  Ottomans, 
unable  to  bear  the  unexampled  weight  of  the  yoke  of  tyranny, 


126  MODERN   GREECE. 

and  having  shaken  it  off  with  great  sacrifices,  proclaims  this 
day,  through  its  lawful  representatives  in  a  national  congress 
assembled,  before  God  and  men,  its  political  existence  and  in- 
dependence." 

The  vigor  and  eloquence  of  this  proclamation  are  worthy 
of  the  cause,  and  inspire  us  with  admiration  for  the  men  who 
were  capable  of  so  appealing  to  Heaven  and  to  the  world  in 
vindication  of  the  rights  for  which  they  had  drawn  the  sword. 
It  states  clearly  and  briefly  the  causes  of  the  war,  declaring 
that,  far  from  being  the  effect  of  a  seditious  and  Jacobinical 
movement,  or  the  pretext  of  an  ambitious  faction  it  is  "  a  na- 
tional war,  undertaken  for  the  sole  purpose  of  reconquering  our 
rights  and  securing  our  existence  and  honor.  A  thousand 
ages  of  proscription  would  not  bar  the  sacred  rights  whose 
creation  was  the  work  of  Nature  herself.  They  were  torn  from 
us  by  violence  ;  and  violence  more  righteously  directed  may 

one  day  win  them  back Grecians,  but  a  little  while  since 

ye  said,  '  No  more  slavery  ! '  and  the  power  of  the  tyrant  has 
vanished.  But  it  is  concord  alone  which  can  consolidate  your 
liberty  and  independence.  The  assembly  offers  up  its  prayers 
that  the  mighty  arm  of  the  Most  High  may  raise  the  nation 
towards  the  sanctuary  of  His  Eternal  Wisdom." 

The  Constitution,  while  making  the  Orthodox  Eastern 
Church  the  ecclesiastical  establishment  of  the  nation,  enacted 
the  toleration  of  all  other  forms  of  worship.  It  lodged  the  gov- 
ernment in  a  Senate  and  an  Executive  Council,  the  former  to 
consist  of  thirty-three  members  and  the  latter  of  five.  It  pro- 
vided for  annual  elections.  Eight  secretaries  were  appointed, 
namely,  of  state,  the  interior,  public  economy,  justice,  war, 
the  navy,  religion,  and  police.  The  judiciary  consisted  of 
eleven  members,  chosen  by  the  government,  but  holding  office 
by  an  independent  tenure.  Civil  and  criminal  justice  was  to 
be  administered  according  to  the  legislation  of  the  Greek  Em- 
perors ;  and  the  French  Commercial  Code  was  adopted  for  the 
regulation  of  mercantile  affairs.  Torture  and  confiscation  were 
abolished,  and  freedom  of  the  press  established.     The  grea 


THE   GREEK  REVOLUTION.  427 

defect  of  the  Constitution  was  the  limited  power  of  the  execu- 
tive, especially  in  the  critical  circumstances  of  the  country,  — 
a  defect  severely  felt  in  the  conduct  of  the  war.  Alexander 
Mavrocordatos  was  chosen  President  of  the  executive  body ; 
Athanasius  Kanakares,  Vice-President ;  and  Ypselanti  was 
chosen  to  the  Presidency  of  the  Senate,  but  he  declined,  and 
Petros  Mavromichales  was  put  in  his  place.  The  departments 
were  organized  by  the  appointment  of  secretaries,  or  commis- 
sioners, the  first  secretary  of  state  being  Theodore  Negris. 
Mavrocordatos  and  his  colleagues  proceeded  with  great  energy 
and  ability  to  organize  and  arrange  the  operations  of  the  govern- 
ment, and  to  introduce  some  degree  of  order  into  military  affairs. 
The  most  striking  and  terrible  event  of  the  year  1822  was 
the  massacre  of  Scio.  The  inhabitants  of  this  island  had  risen 
to  a  high  degree  of  wealth  and  refinement.  The  population, 
before  the  Greek  Revolution,  was  estimated  at  more  than  a 
hundred  thousand.  They  took  little  or  no  part  in  the  war 
until  March,  1822,  when  the  peasantry  rose  and  shut  up  the 
Turkish  garrison  in  the  citadel.  The  Capitan  Pacha,  who  was 
on  his  way  to  the  Peloponnesus  with  a  large  fleet,  changed  his 
plan,  and  suddenly  landed  fifteen  thousand  men  upon  the 
island,  resolved  to  strike  awe  into  the  people  by  a  terrible 
example.  A  massacre  of  the  defenceless  inhabitants  at  once 
commenced,  such  as  the  annals  of  warfare  seldom  record.  Men, 
women,  and  children  were  tortured  and  then  put  to  death. 
Some  fled  to  the  mountains  and  hid  themselves  in  caverns ; 
others  succeeded  in  getting  on  board  the  foreign  ships  lying  in 
the  harbor ;  others  made  their  escape  to  the  neighboring  islands ; 
while  more  than  forty  thousand  were  slain  in  the  course  of  a 
month,  and  thousands  of  the  most  refined  and  cultivated  were 
carried  off,  and  sold  into  slavery,  in  the  bazaars  of  Smyrna 
and  Constantinople.  Many  were  bought  by  Turks  for  the 
pleasure  of  torturing  them  and  putting  them  to  death ;  and 
many  were  redeemed  by  Europeans  residing  in  Smyrna,  who 
sacrificed  their  wealth  in  this  work  of  Christian  charity.  Thr 
population  was  reduced  to  sixteen  thousand  in  one  year. 


428  MODERN   GREECE. 

The  news  of  these  events  filled  all  Greece  with  sorrow  and 
indignation.  The  Hydriotes,  Spezziotes,  and  Psariotes  sailed 
with  a  large  fleet,  under  the  command  of  the  illustrious  naval 
hero,  Andreas  Miaoules,  and,  on  the  19th  of  May,  encoun- 
tered the  Turkish  armament  between  Scio  and  the  coast  of 
Asia  Minor,  when  a  battle  ensued.  But  it  was  not  until  June 
that  deserved  retribution  overtook  the  bloody  Kara  Ali,  —  the 
Capitan  Pacha,  —  at  the  hands  of  another  Greek  hero,  Cana- 
res,  who,  with  his  countrymen,  had  been  watching  at  Psara  an 
opportunity  of  aiming  a  fatal  blow  at  the  hostile  fleet.  By  a 
bold  stroke  he  conducted  some  fire-ships  within  the  Turkish 
lines,  and,  attaching  one  of  them  to  the  prow  of  the  flag-ship, 
which  was  lying  at  anchor  in  the  centre  of  the  fleet,  instantly 
set  it  on  fire.  Canares  and  his  gallant  crew  escaped  in  a  boat. 
The  ship  was  burned,  and  two  thousand  men  perished.  The 
Capitan  Pacha,  severely  injured  by  the  flames,  leaped  into  a 
boat,  but  had  scarcely  seated  himself  when  one  of  the  masts  fell, 
crushing  him  and  capsizing  the  boat;  and  he  was  borne  ashore 
by  swimmers,  bruised  and  burnt,  and  in  a  dying  condition,  and 
expired  in  the  midst  of  the  most  terrible  sufferings  on  the  very 
scene  of  his  unparalleled  cruelties. 

The  disheartening  answer  received  from  the  Congress  at 
Verona  in  December,  1822,  pronouncing  the  enterprise  in- 
considerate and  culpable,  and  requiring  the  Greeks  to  submit 
to  their  lawful  sovereign,  the  Sultan,  and  the  civil  dissensions 
between  Colocotrones  and  the  central  government,  led  to  the 
calling  of  a  second  National  Convention  at  Astros  in  March, 
1823,  which  introduced  some  amendments  into  the  Constitu- 
tion, and  elected  Petros  Mavromichales  President.  They  made 
various  changes  in  the  ministry,  and  resolved  to  organize  a 
land  force  of  fifty  thousand  and  a  fleet  of  a  hundred  men-of- 
war.  The  events  of  the  year  were  confused  and  bloody  ;  but 
one  act  of  heroism  shines  conspicuous  above  all  others,  — 
the  midnight  attack  of  Marco  Botzares  and  his  gallant  band  oe 
Souliotes  upon  the  Turkish  camp  at  Carpenesion.  The  imme 
diate  object  —  the  capture  of  the  Bev  in  his  tent  —  was  not 


THE   GREEK  REVOLUTION.  -429 

accomplished,  and  Botzares  fell  in  the  battle.  Eight  hundred 
Turks  were  slain,  with  a  loss  of  only  fifty  of  the  Greeks. 
"  The  commander,"  it  is  well  said  by  one  of  his  countrymen, 
"  did  not  cease  after  his  death  to  serve  his  country ;  for,  if  we 
except  the  achievements  of  our  naval  heroes  and  the  last  siege 
of  Mesolongi,  no  other  event  excited  such  admiration  for  Gre- 
cian valor  as  the  death  of  Marco  Botzares."  These  transac- 
tions certainly  show  that  the  Greeks  had  fallen  in  no  respect 
below  the  national  spirit  of  their  ancestors.  If  we  look  at  the 
whole  course  of  the  war,  we  shall  find  much  to  condemn  in 
the  factious  spirit  which  more  than  once  threatened  to  ruin  the 
cause  in  the  blood  of  mutually  slaughtered  citizens ;  we  shall 
detect  many  instances  of  ferocity  and  perfidy ;  we  shall  be 
shocked  with  the  violation  of  stipulated  faith  and  the  murder 
of  troops  that  had  surrendered ;  and  the  traveller  who  takes 
some  pains  to  learn  the  private  history  of  those  times  will  hear 
with  horror  the  tales  of  private  revenge  practised  with  con- 
summate cruelty,  by  way  of  retaliation,  upon  defenceless  Turks. 
Such  incidents  belong  to  the  nature  of  such  a  strife,  and  inevi- 
tably flow  from  the  passions  of  men,  long  pent  up  and  sud- 
denly freed  from  the  restraints  of  government  and  law.  But 
while  I  will  not  be  an  apologist  for  Hellenic  any  more  than  for 
Turkish  cruelty,  I  will  say  that  no  such  sanguinary  acts  as  the 
massacre  of  Scio  and  the  butchery  of  the  Patriarch  of  Constan 
tinople  sully  the  pages  that  record  the  struggle.  And  if  we 
look  to  the  patient  virtues  with  which  the  common  people 
submitted  to  the  harshest  extremities  of  fortune,  rather  than 
yield  themselves  again  to  their  old  oppressors,  we  must  assign 
them  a  lofty  position  among  the  sufferers  for  liberty.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  we  contemplate  the  achievements  of  Canares 
and  Miaoules  by  sea ;  the  daring  deeds  of  Marco  Botzares  and 
his  brave  kinsmen,  Costa  and  Nothi,  on  land ;  and  the  ex- 
ploits of  many  other  leaders  scarcely  less  patriotic  and  gallant 
than  they,  —  we  shall  be  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  no  war 
has  ever  been  more  fruitful  in  illustrious  deeds  of  heroism 
oorne  by  the  natal  soil,  fertilized  with  the  blood  of  its  children. 


£30  MODERN   GREECE. 

And  if  we  study  the  constitutions  and  laws  they  enacted  in 
the  midst  of  the  terrors  of  war,  or  their  eloquent  appeals  to 
the  sympathies  of  the  Christian  world,  we  shall  have  to  look 
far,  before  we  find  men  superior  in  intellectual  gifts  and  manly 
virtues  to  Coraes,  Mavrocordatos,  and  Tricoupi. 


LECTURE  IX. 

HISTORY  OF  THE  WAR  OF  INDEPENDENCE 

In  the  last  Lecture  we  considered  the  leading  characteris- 
tics of  the  Greek  Revolution,  partly  as  described  by  Mr.  Tri- 
coupi,  one  of  the  ablest  and  best  of  the  living  statesmen  of  the 
country,  and  partly  as  naturally  growing  out  of  the  previous 
relations  of  the  Greeks  and  Turks.  I  endeavored  to  show 
that  the  continued  and  peculiar  oppressions  of  the  conquerors 
justified  the  conquered  in  attempting  at  any  moment  to  throw 
off  the  long-borne  yoke  of  slavery;  and  that  the  diplomatic 
relations  between  the  powers  of  Europe,  which  regarded  Tur- 
key as  constituting  a  part  of  the  European  system,  although, 
for  objects  of  their  own,  they  had  often  interfered  in  her  af- 
fairs in  a  manner  quite  inconsistent  with  the  assumption  of 
her  absolute  independence,  could  make  no  difference  in  the 
natural  right  of  the  Greeks  to  strike  for  the  restoration  of 
their  national  existence. 

Although  the  decision  of  the  Congress  of  Verona  had  shut 
Greece  out  from  the  nations,  still  the  increasing  sympathy 
growing  up  among  the  people  everywhere  was  some  compen- 
sation to  the  Greeks  for  the  coldness  and  indifference  of  the 
Holy  Alliance.  In  1823,  Louriottes,  a  confidential  friend  of 
Mavrocordatos,  proceeded  to  London  to  negotiate  a  loan  which 
the  executive  was  authorized  to  contract,  on  the  security  of 
the  national  lands.  His  arrival  in  the  British  capital,  and  the 
details  he  communicated  as  to  the  condition  of  Greece,  excited 
the  greatest  interest.  Under  the  auspices  of  Mr.  Bowring,  and 
with  the  approbation  of  liberal  politicians  like  Lord  John  Rus- 
•ell,   Lord    Milton,    Zachary    Macaulay,    Sir   James    Mackin- 


<t32  MODERN   GREECE. 

tosh,  William  Smith,  Sir  Francis  Burdett,  Joseph  Hume,  ana 
others,  public  meetings  were  called,  and  circulars  addressed  to 
the  principal  cities  in  the  kingdom,  soliciting  subscriptions ; 
and  donations  poured  in  from  every  quarter.  Committees 
were  appointed  for  the  management  of  the  funds,  and  to  cor- 
respond with  Philhellenic  committees  in  other  countries.  An 
agent  —  Mr.  Blaquiere  —  was  sent  to  Greece  to  confer  with 
the  government.  In  Germany  and  Switzerland  similar  move- 
ments took  place,  and  large  supplies  of  money,  arms,  and  sol 
diers  were  furnished  by  their  activity.  To  add  to  the  sym- 
pathy now  growing  stronger  and  stronger  daily,  the  unhappy 
refugees  were  expelled  from  the  countries  embraced  in  the 
Holy  Alliance ;  a  large  number  were  driven  from  Russia, 
many  of  whom  died  of  cold  and  hunger  on  their  miserable 
journey ;  and  the  wretched  survivors  were  refused  admission  to 
Austria,  France,  and  the  Sardinian  states.  At  length,  with 
great  difficulty,  the  committees  of  Geneva  and  Zurich  obtained 
permission  for  them  to  traverse  France,  by  small  detachments, 
and  sent  them  from  Marseilles  to  Greece  at  their  own  expense. 
From  the  United  States  contributions  were  not  wanting.  In 
1824,  about  $80,000  were  sent,  which  had  been  collected  by 
the  local  committees.  Some  attempts  were  made  by  the 
English  and  Russians  to  bring  about  the  pacification  of  Greece. 
The  plan  proposed  by  the  Russian  agent,  craftily  arranged  to 
bring  the  revolted  provinces  under  the  control  of  the  Czar, 
while  nominally  replacing  them  as  tributaries  to  the  Porte, 
was  rejected  by  the  Sultan  ;  and  as  he  had  been  assured  by 
the  British  Minister  that  the  great  powers  were  determined 
to  leave  the  Greeks  to  their  fate,  the  rejection  of  any  inter- 
ference could  not  well  be  made  the  ground  of  complaint.  The 
ill  success  which  had,  however,  attended  three  campaigns  con- 
vinced the  Turks  that  they  would  be  unable  to  reduce  the 
Greeks  without  assistance  ;  and  Mahomet  Ali,  the  Viceroy 
of  Egypt,  who  had  made  himself  almost  an  independent  sover- 
eign, received  flattering  proposals  from  the  Sultan,  with  the 
&ffer  of  the  Morea  as  a  pachalic  to  his  step-son  Ibrahim,  on 


fflSTOEY   OF   THE   WAR   OF  INDEPENDENCE.  433 

condition  of  suppressing  the  revolt.  But  notwithstanding  the 
formidable  arrangements  made  for  the  invasion  of  the  Morea 
by  the  Egyptian  fleets  and  armies,  the  Greek  government  was 
greatly  encouraged  by  the  success  of  their  agents  in  contract- 
ing a  loan  of  a  large  amount  on  the  security  of  the  national 
property,  which,  although  procured  on  very  disadvantageous 
terms,  —  a  debt  of  ,£800,000  being  incurred  for  an  available 
sum  of  only  .£280,000,  a  little  more  than  one  fourth  of  the 
amount,  —  gave  a  very  important  relief  in  the  pressure  of 
their  affairs.  The  Egyptian  armament  did  not  reach  the 
Peloponnesus  until  1825.  This  invasion,  and  the  ravages 
committed  in  the  Peloponnesus  by  the  Egyptian  army,  dis 
ciplined  and  led  by  European  officers,  and  apparently  the 
agency  by  which  the  subjugation  of  Greece  must  be  accom- 
plished, were,  under  the  guiding  hand  of  Providence,  the 
means  of  bringing  this  people  out  of  their  great  peril  in  the 
darkest  hour  of  distress  and  danger. 

The  accession  of  numerous  Philhellenes  to  the  cause  was 
not  in  all  respects  beneficial.  They  came  with  different  views, 
objects,  and  expectations.  Some  of  them  were  ardent,  enthusi- 
astic men,  whose  sympathy  for  the  country  rested  more  on  her 
ancient  greatness  than  on  her  present  sufferings.  Many  of 
these,  finding  the  pictures  of  their  glowing  imaginations  not  jus 
tified  by  the  reality,  finding  the  leaders  and  Pallecars  not  like 
Miltiades  and  Themistocles,  and  the  people  sunk  in  wretchedness 
and  poverty  deeper  than  they  had  dreamed,  and  in  some  cases, 
at  least,  without  the  moral  qualities  that  could  inspire  them 
with  respect,  quickly  became  disgusted  with  a  cause  they  had 
taken  up  merely  as  amateurs,  and  withdrew  from  a  country 
where  hardship  and  death  seemed  the  only  reward  ibr  their 
classical  zeal.  Others  went  thither  with  inordinate  conceptions 
of  their  great  importance  to  the  struggle  which  they  honored 
by  their  participation,  and  were  shocked  at  the  ingratitude  of 
the  Greeks,  who  did  not  take  them  at  their  own  estimate. 
These  also  withdrew,  consoling  themselves  for  the  mortifica- 
tion of  their  vanity  by  abusing  the  falsehood  of  the  Greeks. 

vol.  ii  28 


434  MODERN   GREECE. 

Others  still  went  there  as  mere  adventurers,  looking  only  for 
occasions  of  rapacity  and  plunder.  But  there  were  many  hon- 
orable and  distinguished  men,  who,  well  understanding  the 
nature  of  the  conflict,  and  not  led  away  by  literary  enthusiasm 
or  by  the  memories  of  the  past,  consecrated  their  best  efforts, 
their  lives,  and  their  fortunes  to  the  restoration  of  Greece. 
Such  men  .vere  Colonel  Gordon,  a  man  of  calm  intrepidity 
and  the  coolest  head  ;  Fabvier,  the  gallant  Frenchman,  who 
refused  all  pecuniary  compensation,  and  spent  his  property  in 
the  service;  Meyer,  the  German,  who  stood  at  his  post  bravely, 
and  perished  beneath  the  ruins  of  Mesolongi ;  Hastings,  whose 
modest  worth  and  gallant  spirit  have  left  a  name  never  to 
be  forgotten  in  the  annals  of  those  times ;  General  Church, 
who,  though  he  arrived  in  Greece  only  to  share  in  the  last 
year  of 'the  struggle,  showed  the  virtues  of  chivalry  and  the 
humanity  of  a  Christian  gentleman,  and  who  still  lives  an  ob- 
ject of  universal  respect  for  his  probity,  his  defence  of  liberal 
principles,  his  unbending  virtue  in  public  and  private  life.  He 
is  a  member  of  the  Senate,  and  though  not  an  orator,  is  yet  a 
man  of  sagacity  and  widely  extended  influence.  There  were 
also  our  countrymen,  Miller  and  Howe,  both  brave  men,  and 
the  latter  known  throughout  the  world  for  his  genius  and  phi- 
lanthropy, having  by  his  later  achievements  in  peace  eclipsed 
the  fame  he  won  on  the  theatre  of  his  early  adventures.  He 
is  remembered  there  with  wrarm  affection  ;  and  in  the  city  of 
Athens  the  guides  still  recommend  themselves  to  the  Ameri- 
can traveller,  by  assuring  him  that  they  were  the  attendants 
of  Dr.  Howe.  The  only  fault  I  ever  heard  found  with  him 
was  by  one  of  his  companions  in  arms,  who  said  that  it  was 
impossible  to  restrain  him  from  constantly  exposing  himself 
to  danger,  when  his  services  were  needed  for  the  sick  and 
Wounded.     They  thought  with  Homer, 

"  A  good  physician,  skilled  our  wounds  to  heal, 
Is  worth  whole  armies  to  the  common  weal."* 

There  was  Finlay,  too,  an  accomplished  young  Scotchman, 
who,  having  helped  in  the  achievement  of  independence,  is  now 


HISTORY   OF   THE   WAR   OF  INDEPENDENCE.  435 

giving  his  studious  years  to  the  history  of  the  country  of  his 
adoption^  and  whose  works  rank  with  the  best  productions  of 
historical  research,  in  this  age  so  fruitful  of  distinguished  au- 
thorship in  the  department  of  history. 

But  the  greatest  sensation  was  created  by  the  advent  sf 
Lord  Byron,  and  his  early  death  at  Mesolongi  gives  a  melan- 
choly interest  to  this  chapter  of  Hellenic  history,  which  a  much 
longer  period  of  active  service  might  have  failed  to  inspire. 
The  most  indulgent  judge  must  pass  severe  censure  on  many 
parts  of  Lord  Byron's  life.  Apologize  for  him  as  we  may,  —  on 
the  ground  of  temperament,  imperfect  education,  unfortunate 
influences  that  shaped  his  character  in  childhood  and  youth, 
early  disappointment,  premature  fame  and  its  accompanying 
temptations,  the  intoxication  of  the  flatteries  administered  by 
the  most  brilliant  society  in  the  world,  uncongenial  domestic 
relations,  —  still  we  are  untrue  to  the  right  if  we  fail  to  ac- 
knowledge that  there  was  much  of  wilful  wrong  in  his  conduct, 
unworthy  of  a  rational  being,  and  degrading  to  his  splendid 
genius.  His  life  in  Italy,  after  the  catastrophe  that  shattered 
his  household  gods,  was  a  deep  and  ineffaceable  dishonor  to  his 
great  name.  But  his  better  nature  began  to  wake  from  the 
delusions  of  the  passions ;  and  his  good  angel  gave  him  an  op- 
portunity of  crowning  his  days  with  a  radiant  and  glorious  close. 
In  his  youth  he  had  travelled  through  Greece,  and  celebrated 
its  past  achievements,  as  well  as  painted  its  recent  degradation, 
in  the  most  brilliant  poetry  of  modern  times.  He  was  misled 
by  no  enthusiasm  of  lettered  and  romantic  youth ;  he  knew 
thoroughly  the  condition  of  the  Greeks,  and  no  man  had  judged 
t.Heir  faults  of  character  with  more  severity.  Blended  with 
his  poetical  genius,  there  was  in  him  a  vein  of  practical  good- 
sense,  which,  in  other  circumstances,  would  have  made  him 
eminent  in  the  business  of  public  or  private  life.  With  this 
good  sense,  he  scrutinized  the  condition  of  Greece,  and  rea- 
soned out  the  probability  of  his  being  able  to  render  her  a 
worthy  service  in  that  hour  of  her  peril.  He  came  to  the  con- 
clusion, calmly,  without  passion,  without  enthusiasm,  without 


436  MODERN   GREECE. 

delusion,  that  heve  was  a  field  in  which  he  could  achieve  a 
good  beyond  the  value  of  any  poetical  success  ;  and  having 
come  to  this  conclusion,  he  forthwith  consecrated  his  thoughts, 
his  time,  his  fortune,  his  personal  exertions,  to  the  cause  of 
Greece.  He  set  sail  from  Leghorn  on  the  24th  of  July,  1823, 
ten  days  afterward  arrived  in  Cephalonia,  and  thence  de- 
spatched messengers  to  institute  particular  inquiries  into  the 
state  of  affairs  in  Greece.  In  the  mean  time  he  made  an  ex- 
cursion to  Ithaca,  and  examined  with  interest  the  antiquities 
of  the  rocky  capital  where  Ulysses  reigned.  Finding,  here  a 
number  of  families  that  had  escaped  from  the  massacre  of 
Scio,  from  Patras,  and  other  places,  he  generously  furnished 
money  for  their  relief.  Speaking  of  one  of  these  families 
which  he  had  known  in  affluence  at  Patras,  a  lady,  quoted  by 
Moore,  says :  "  The  eldest  girl  became  afterwards  the  mistress 
of  the  school  formed  at  Ithaca ;  and  neither  she,  her  sister,  nor 
mother  could  ever  speak  of  Lord  Byron  without  the  deepest 
feeling  of  gratitude,  and  of  regret  for  his  premature  death." 
One  of  his  messengers  brought  him  a  letter  from  Marco  Bot- 
zares,  written  only  a  few  hours  before  his  heroic  death.  In 
this  letter  he  says :  "  I  shall  have  something  to  do  to-night 
against  a  corps  of  six  or  seven  thousand  Albanians,  encamped 
close  to  this  place.  The  day  after  to-morrow  I  will  set  out, 
with  a  few  chosen  companions,  to  meet  your  Excellency.  Do 
not  delay.  I  thank  you  for  the  good  opinion  you  have  of  my 
fellow-citizens,  which  God  grant  you  will  not  find  ill-founded  ; 
and  I  thank  you  still  more  for  the  care  you  have  so  kindly 
aken  of  them."  This  refers  to  his  having  taken  into  his  pay 
a  body  of  the  Souliotes,  who  had  been  homeless  since  their  de- 
feat by  Ali  Pacha. 

Lord  Byron  did  not  embark  for  Mesolongi  until  the  end  of 
December,  having  employed  the  intervening  time  in  corre- 
sponding with  the  friends  of  Greece,  the  Greek  government, 
and  the  heads  of  the  different  parties,  by  whose  dissensions 
the  condition  of  the  country  was  much  endangered.  It  is 
impossible   not  to  admire  the  just  and   comprehensive   views 


HISTORY    OF  THE  WAB   OF  INDEPENDENCE.  43? 

developed  by  him  during  these  months  of  preliminary  arrange- 
ments for  his  great  enterprise.  The  wisdom  of  his  conduct 
in  refusing  to  be  drawn  into  the  schemes  of  any  of  the  fac- 
tions, the  sagacity  with  which  he  penetrated  and  baffled  their 
intrigues  to  secure  his  adhesion,  and  the  earnestness  of  his  ex- 
hortations to  concord  and  union,  can  never  be  sufficiently 
praised.  To  the  general  government  of  Greece  he  writes: 
"  We  have  heard  some  rumors  of  new  dissensions,  nay,  of 
the  existence  of  a  civil  war.  With  all  my  heart  I  pray  that 
these  reports  may  be  false  or  exaggerated ;  for  I  can  imagine 

no  calamity  more  serious  than  this You  have  fought  glo 

riously.  Act  honorably  towards  your  fellow-citizens  and  the 
world,  and  it  will  then  no  more  be  said,  as  has  been  repeated 
for  two  thousand  years,  that  Philopoemen  was  the  last  of  the 
Grecians.  Let  not  calumny  itself  compare  the  patriot  Greek, 
when  resting  from  his  labors,  to  the  Turkish  Pacha,  whom  his 
victories  have  exterminated."  To  Mavrocordatos  he  writes : 
"  I  am  very  uneasy  at  hearing  that  the  dissensions  of  Greece 
still  continue,  and  at  a  moment  when  she  might  triumph  over 

everything Greece  is  at  present  placed  between  three 

measures,  —  either  to  reconquer  her  liberty,  to  become  a  de- 
pendence of  the  sovereigns  of  Europe,  or  to  return  to  a  Turkish 
province.  Civil  war  is  but  a  road  which  leads  to  the  last  two." 
He  arrived  at  Mesolongi  on  the  5th  of  January,  1824,  having 
narrowly  escaped  being  captured  by  the  Turkish  fleet.  The 
whole  population  welcomed  him  on  the  shore  ;  the  ships  fired 
salutes  as  he  passed  ;  and  Mavrocordatos,  at  the  head  of  the 
troops,  and  the  civil  authorities  of  the  place,  gave  him  a  wel- 
come as  hearty  as  it  was  full  of  joy,  and  escorted  him  in  a 
body  to  the  house  which  had  been  prepared  for  him.  His 
conduct,  in  the  midst  of  the  difficulties  by  which  he  was  at 
once  surrounded,  showed  the  same  coolness,  good  sense,  and 
generosity  —  where  generosity  could  be  serviceable  —  that 
had  marked  his  course  ever  since  he  engaged  in  the  enter- 
prise. The  suppression  of  discord,  and  the  diminution  of 
th"»  inevitable  horrors  of  war,  by  tempering  it  with  sentiments 


438  MODERN   GREECE. 

of  humanity,  too  often  forgotten  by  the  Greeks  as  well  as  by 
the  Turks,  in  the  moment  of  victory,  were  the  first  objects  he 
had  at  heart.  He  let  no  opportunity  escape  of  inculcating  and 
illustrating  this  spirit.  He  employed  his  influence  successfully 
in  inducing  the  government  to  set  five  Turkish  prisoners,  who 
had  been  long  languishing  in  dungeons,  at  liberty,  and  restor- 
ing them  to  their  friends.  Others  he  relieved  by  pecuniary 
aid,  and  he  provided  the  means  of  sending  others  still  to  their 
homes.  His  ample  income  was  employed  without  stint,  and 
at  the  same  time  with  excellent  judgment,  in  the  public  service. 
It  is  an  interesting  incident  in  his  literary  life,  that  the  last 
lines  he  wrote  are  those  memorable  ones,  on  the  22d  of  Jan- 
uary, 1824,  on  completing  his  thirty-sixth  year.  The  last 
stanza  was  sadly  ominous  of  his  approaching  fate  :  — 

"  Seek  out  —  less  often  sought  than  found  — 
A  soldier's  grave,  for  thee  the  best ; 
Then  look  around,  and  choose  thy  ground, 
And  take  thy  rest." 

He  had  been  haunted  from  the  beginning  by  a  presentiment 
that  he  was  destined  to  close  his  life  in  Greece.  In  taking 
leave  of  his  friends  in  Italy,  he  more  than  once  gave  utterance 
to  this  feeling ;  and  on  making  his  last  visit  to  Lady  Bles- 
sington, —  one  of  the  best  friends  he  ever  had,  who  by  her  bril- 
liant pen  has  done  him  fuller  justice  than  any  other  writer, — 
he  was  deeply  moved,  and  burst  into  an  agony  of  tears.  The 
first  indication  of  his  failing  health  was  given  by  a  violent  con- 
vulsion on  the  15th  of  February,  while  he  was  conversing 
with  a  few  friends.  This  alarming  incident  created  the  most 
serious  apprehensions,  and  he  was  urged  to  retire  to  some  more 
salubrious  place,  until  his  health  should  be  restored.  In  reply 
to  one  of  these  friendly  invitations  he  says :  "  I  cannot  quit 
Greece  while  there  is  a  chance  of  my  being  of  any  (even 
supposed)  utility  ;  there  is  a  stake  worth  millions  such  as  I 
am,  and  while  I  can  stand  at  all,  I  must  stand  by  the  cause." 
In  the  following  month,  from  an  exposure  to  a  violent  rain,  he 
took  the  fever  which,  in  a  few  days,  ended  his  life.     The  do- 


HISTORY    OF   THE   WAR   OF  INDEPENDENCE.  489 

tails  of  that  last  illness  and  death  fill  one  of  the  saddest  chap- 
ters in  the  history  of  Greece ;  and  the  affliction  which  fell  on 
the  country,  as  the  news  rapidly  spread  from  province  to  prov- 
ince, testified  how  deeply  his  generous  devotion  to  their  cause 
had  sunk  into  the  hearts  of  the  Greeks.  In  his  last  thoughts, 
indistinctly  uttered  in  the  broken  words  which  were  all  the 
dissolving  organs  could  shape,  the  names  of  his  friends,  his 
wife,  his  daughter,  and  of  Greece,  were  confusedly  mingled,  — 
daughter  and  Greece  were  the  very  last  words  he  spoke  ;  and 
then  the  silence  and  sleep  of  death  settled  over  him  who  had 
electrified  the  world,  and  on  whom,  but  now,  the  hopes  of  a 
nation  centred.  A  storm  of  thunder  broke  over  the  town 
at  the  moment  of  his  departure ;  and  the  Greeks,  who  thronged 
the  street  to  learn  his  condition,  cried  out,  as  the  awful  crash 
fell  from  the  sky,  "  The  great  man  is  gone  !  " 

It  was  the  festival  of  Easter,  —  usually  celebrated  with  great 
joy  by  the  Greeks.  But  the  day  of  festivity  and  rejoicing 
was  turned  into  sorrow  and  mourning.  All  amusements 
ceased ;  the  shops  were  shut ;  prayers  were  offered  in  all  the 
churches.  The  funeral  ceremony  took  place  on  the  22d  of 
April,  in  the  church  where  lie  the  bodies  of  Marco  Botzares 
and  the  brave  General  Normann.  Says  an  eyewitness,  quoted 
by  Moore  :  '*  No  funeral  pomp  could  have  left  the  impression 
or  spoken  the  feelings  of  this  simple  ceremony.  The  wretch- 
edness and  desolation  of  the  place  itself;  the  wild  and  half-civ- 
ilized warriors  around  us ;  their  deep-felt,  unaffected  grief;  the 
fond  recollections,  the  disappointed  hopes,  the  anxieties  and  sad 
presentiments,  which  might  be  read  on  every  countenance,  — 
all  contributed  to  form  a  scene  more  moving,  more  truly  affect- 
ing, than  perhaps  ever  before  was  witnessed  round  the  grave  of 
a  great  man."  Thus  fell  Lord  Byron  on  the  soil  of  Greece, 
only  four  months  after  his  arrival.  His  body  was  carried  back 
to  England,  and  deposited,  not  in  Westminster  Abbey,  but  in 
the  burial-place  of  his  ancestors,  near  Newstead,  on  the  same 
day  of  the  same  month  on  which,  one  year  before,  he  had  said 
to  Count  Gamba,  "  Where  shall  we  be  in  another  year?"    The 


140  MODERN   GREECE. 

beautiful  marble  monument  to  his  memory,  which,  like  his  dust, 
was  refused  a  place  among  the  illustrious  poets  of  his  country, 
in  Westminster  Abbey,  now  adorns  the  library  at  Cambridge, 
where  his  genius  is  revered  and  his  errors  are  covered  with 
the  mantle  of  charity.  The  heart  of  the  poet  still  rests  in- 
urned  in  the  place  where  he  died ;  and  his  memory  is  honored 
with  an  enthusiasm  and  affection  which  can  never  perish  from 
the  soul  of  liberated  Hellas.  Poets  have  sung  his  praises  :  his- 
tory has  recorded  his  generous  deeds ;  and  a  street  in  Athens, 
which  runs  hard  by  the  Acropolis  and  near  the  noblest  monu- 
ments of  antiquity,  bears  his  illustrious  name.  A  hundred  times 
have  I  walked  musingly  along  that  quiet  way,  and  in  my  busy 
meditations  blended  the  name  and  fame  of  Byron  with  the  im- 
mortal poets  whose  shades  seemed  to  hover  round  the  spot 
where  their  words  once  resounded. 

Mr.  Tricoupi,  the  friend  of  Mavrocordatos  and  of  Byron,  — 
the  able  secretary,  the  vigorous  historian,  and  now  the  worthy 
representative  of  his  country  in  England,  —  delivered  a  funeral 
oration  in  the  church  on  the  Sunday  after  Easter.  "  What  an 
unlooked  for  event !  "  exclaimed  the  orator,  —  "  what  a  deplo- 
rable misfortune !  It  is  but  a  short  time  since  the  people  of 
much-suffering  Greece,  all  joy  and  exultation,  welcomed  to 
their  bosoms  this  distinguished  man  ;  and  to-day,  all  woe  and 
despair,  they  bedew  his  funeral  couch  with  bitterest  tears,  and 
mourn  without  consolation.  The  sweetest  salutation,  Christ  is 
arisen,  became  joyless  on  Easter  morning  upon  the  lips  of  the 
Christians  of  Greece,  who,  when  they  met  one  another,  before 
they  had  yet  spoken  the  congratulations  of  the  festival,  anx- 
iously inquired,  'How  is  my  Lord?'  Thousands  of  men,  as- 
sembled to  interchange  the  sacred  salutation  of  love  in  the 
broad  plain  outside  the  walls  of  our  city,  ap;..  ared  to  have 
assembled  only  to  beseech  the  Saviour  of  all  for  the  health  of 
the  champion  in  behalf  of  the  freedom  of  our  nation." 

The  orator  goes  on  to  speak  in  the  most  feeling  manner  of 
the  services  Lord  Byron  had  rendered ;  of  the  liberal  employ 
nient  of  his  wealth  ;  of  his  excellent  judgment ;  of  his  splen  iio 


tflSTOBY"   OF   THE  WAR   OF  INDEPENDENCE.  441 

genius.  "  All  lettered  Europe,"  says  he,  "  has  eulogized,  and 
will  eulogize,  the  poet  of  our  age  ;  and  all  ages  will  celebrate 
him,  because  he  was  born  for  all  Europe  and  for  all  ages.  In 
the  agony  of  death,  —  yes,  at  the  moment  when  the  veil  of 
eternity  is  rent  to  him  who  stands  on  the  borders  of  mortal  and 
immortal  life,  —  in  that  awful  hour,  the  illustrious  departed, 
when  leaving  all  the  world,  bore  only  two  names  upon  his  lips, 
that  of  his  much-beloved  daughter  and  that  of  his  much- 
beloved  Hellas.  These  names,  deeply  rooted  in  his  heart,  the 
moment  of  death  itself  could  not  obliterate.  '  My  daughter  ! ' 
he  said ;  '  Greece  ! '  he  said ;  and  his  voice  expired.  What 
Grecian  heart  is  not  broken  when  it  recalls  this  scene  ?  .  .  . . 

"  Thine  arms,  O  dearly  cherished  daughter !  will  receive  him; 
thy  tears  will  flow  on  the  tomb  which  holds  his  bod}r ;  and  the 
tears  of  the  orphans  of  Greece  shall  be  shed  over  the  urn  that 
holds  his  most  precious  heart,  and  upon  the  whole  land  of  Hel- 
las, because  the  whole  land  of  Hellas  shall  be  his  sepulchre. 
As,  in  the  last  moments  of  his  life,  he  had  thee  and  Hellas  in 
his  heart  and  on  his  lips,  it  was  just  that,  after  his  death,  Hellas 
also  should  receive  a  part  of  his  precious  remains.  Mesolongi 
presses  in  her  arms  the  urn  that  holds  his  heart,  as  a  symbol 
of  his  love ;  but  all  Greece,  mourning  and  inconsolable,  ren- 
ders his  body  back  to  thee  with  ecclesiastical,  civil,  and  mili- 
tary honors.  Crowned  with  her  gratitude,  and  bedewed  with 
her  tears,  learn,  most  noble  maiden,  that  chieftains  bore  it  on 
their  shoulders  to  the  church  ;  that  thousands  of  Grecian  war- 
riors lined  the  way  through  which  the  procession  moved,  with 
arms  reversed,  as  if  they  would  war  against  the  very  earth 
which  snatched  away  their  faithful  friend.  They  surround  his 
bier,  and  swear  never  to  forget  the  sacrifices  thy  father  made, 
and  never  to  allow  a  barbarous  and  tyrannic  foot  to  trample  the 
spot  where  his  heart  is  laid.  A  thousand  Christian  voices  aro 
at  this  moment  raised,  and  the  temple  of  the  Most  High  re- 
sounds with  funeral  chants,  and  is  filled  wth  prayers,  that  his 
revered  remains  may  be  safely  restored  to  his  native  land,  and 
that  his  soul  may  rest  where  rest  the  righteous  forever." 


442  MODERN   GREECE. 

Mr.  Tricoupi   spoke  the  feelings  of  the  whole  country.     A 
deeper  sense  of  loneliness  and  woe  never  fell  upon  that  afflicted 
land  than  when  her  greatest  benefactor  died. 
"  Such  honors  Ilion  to  her  hero  paid, 
And  peaceful  slept  the  mighty  Hector's  shade." 

I  have  already  remarked  that  the  intervention  of  the  Viceroy 
of  Egypt  in  the  affairs  of  Greece  led  finally  to  her  salvation. 
The  successes  of  Ibrahim  Pacha  were  checkered  with  reverses 
and  defeats ;  but,  wherever  he  went,  he  laid  the  country  waste, 
and,  slaughtering  the  men,  sent  the  women  and  children  to  be 
sold  as  slaves  in  Egypt.  On  the  18th  of  November,  1825,  the 
fleet  of  Ibrahim  arrived  from  Peloponnesus  at  Mesolongi ;  a 
few  days  later  another  division  of  his  army  joined  the  forces 
by  way  of  Lepanto,  and  the  city  was  immediately  invested  by 
an  army  of  thirty  thousand  men.  The  most  active  measures 
for  its  reduction  by  a  vigorous  assault  were  taken.  The  be- 
siegers were  often  repulsed  with  heavy  losses,  and  in  February 
Ibrahim  resolved  to  reduce  the  place  by  a  rigid  blockade.  The 
gallant  attempts  of  Miaoules  to  break  the  blockade  were  fruit- 
less. Ibrahim  Pacha  sent  to  the  garrison  a  request  that  they 
would  depute  persons  to  treat  with  him  who  could  speak  Al- 
banian, Turkish,  and  French  ;  but  they  replied,  "  We  are  illit- 
erate, and  do  not  understand  so  many  languages ;  Pachas  we 
do  not  recognize  ;  but  we  know  how  to  handle  the  sword  and 
gun."  In  three  days  eight  thousand  shot  and  shell  were  fired 
into  the  town,  demolishing  the  houses,  but  killing  few  of  the 
people.  The  outposts  were  taken  one  by  one,  but  only  after 
the  most  desperate  resistance.  At  length  the  supplies  from 
without  were  cut  off;  the  garrison  was  reduced  to  the  most 
miserable  condition,  feeding  on  rats,  raw  hides,  and  sea-weed : 
and  the  earth  was  covered  with  the  starving,  sick,  and  wounded. 

But  they  persisted  in  their  refusal  to  surrender,  and  re- 
solved, since  the  place  could  no  longer  be  defended,  to  leave 
it  with  arms  in  their  hands.  A  sortie  was  arranged  for  the 
night  of  April  22,  and  would  probably  have  been  quite  suc- 
cessful but  for  the  treachery  of  a  Bulgarian,  who  gave  notice 


HISTORY   OF   THE   WAR   OF   INDEPENDENCE.  413 

<*>  Ibrahim  Pacha,  and  thus  enabled  him,  shortly  before  the  ap- 
pointed moment,  to  make  preparations  for  the  attack.  The 
plan  was  for  three  thousand  armed  men  to  throw  themselves 
suddenly  upon  the  enemy's  line,  and  cut  a  way  for  the 
women  and  children.  The  women  and  boys  armed  them- 
selves with  swords  and  daggers.  Many  of  the  inhabitants 
however,  including  the  sick  and  wounded,  resolved  not  to  quit 
their  native  place,  but  to  share  its  downfall  and  bury  them- 
selves in  its  ruins.  The  leave-taking  of  those  who  determined 
to  make  the  desperate  attempt,  and  of  their  friends  and  rela- 
tives who  remained  behind,  is  described  as  heart-rending. 
The  wailing  and  lamentations  not  only  filled  the  city,  but 
reached  the  posts  of  the  besieging  army.  According  to  the 
arrangement,  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  passed  out  by  the 
eastern  outlet,  and  awaited  the  signal ;  but,  growing  impatient 
under  the  enemy's  fire,  they  started  up,  and,  shouting  "  Death 
to  the  Barbarians ! "  passed  the  trenches,  broke  through  the  in- 
fantry, silenced  the  batteries,  and  killed  the  artillerymen  at 
their  guns.  In  the  confusion  of  the  hour,  a  part  of  the  plan 
failed  to  be  carried  into  effect.  A  panic  broke  out  among  the 
people,  and,  instead  of  taking  instant  advantage  of  the  enemy's 
tonfusion,  they  rushed  back  to  the  town.  The  Turks  and 
Arabs,  eager  for  slaughter  and  plunder,  poured  in  from  every 
side,  and  commenced  the  work  of  destruction  and  blood.  The 
cries  of  the  wounded  and  dying  filled  the  night.  The  roll  of 
musketry,  and  the  explosions  of  magazines,  set  on  fire  by  the 
inhabitants  and  slaying  multitudes  of  the  besiegers,  added  to 
the  horrors  of  the  scene.  A  lame  private  named  Capsales  had 
retired  with  his  family  into  the  principal  magazine,  which  con- 
tained thirty  barrels  of  gunpowder.  The  soldier  sat  by  its 
side  with  a  lighted  torch  ;  and  when  it  was  crowded  by  the 
frantic  Moslems,  he  promptly  applied  the  torch,  and  all  were 
blown,  mutilated  corpses,  into  the  air  by  the  horrible  explosion. 
The  loss  of  the  besiegers  was  increased  by  the  fighting  for  the 
spoils  between  the  Egyptians  and  the  European  Turks.  When 
the  assault  commenced,  there  were   in  Mesolangi  nine  thou- 


±44  MODERN   GREECE. 

sand  souls.  Five  hundred  were  slain  in  the  sortie  ;  six  hun- 
dred afterwards  died  by  starvation  in  the  mountains  ;  about 
eighteen  hundred  escaped,  of  whom  two  hundred  were  females. 
The  spirit  shown  by  these  Grecian  heroines  is  illustrated  by 
one  of  the  incidents  of  the  escape.  A  young  girl,  flying  with 
a  brother  in  delicate  health,  was  pursued  by  a  Turkish  horse- 
man. Carrying  the  brother,  exhausted  by  fatigue,  to  a  neigh- 
boring hillock,  she  seized  his  gun,  received  the  fire  of  the  Turk, 
which  fortunately  was  without  effect,  and  then  coolly  took  aim 
and  shot  him  dead.  Among  the  slain  were  a  number  of  Eu- 
ropean Philhellenes,  and  two  brothers  of  Tricoupi,  the  orator 
and  historian.  Three  thousand  were  sabred  in  the  streets :  and 
about  as  many  more  —  women  and  children  —  were  sold  into 
slavery.  Greece  was  again  clothed  in  mourning.  Not  only 
was  the  downfall  of  Mesolongi  disastrous  in  a  military  and 
political  view  :  it  gave  new  occasion  for  civil  strifes,  which  the 
government  could  not  repress ;  and  it  placed  in  the  hands  of 
the  enemy  the  spot  which  they  had  sworn,  at  the  death  of 
Byron,  he  should  never  pollute  with  his  footsteps ;  but  the 
endurance  and  heroism  of  the  defenders,  the  gallantry  of 
those  who  cut  through  the  besieging  lines  and  of  those  who 
stayed  to  perish  in  the  ruins,  crowned  the  name  of  Mesolongi 
with  unfading  glory. 

Among  other  disheartening  circumstances,  the  Greeks  were 
greatly  embarrassed  by  fraudulent  transactions,  in  England  and 
the  United  States,  with  reference  to  the  construction  of  ships 
of  war  oi'dered  by  their  agents.  I  cannot  dwell  on  this  topic, 
and  I  allude  to  it  here  only  to  say  that  the  Greeks  found  in  both 
countries  able  and  intrepid  defenders.  In  the  United  States, 
the  shameful  transactions  of  those  who  took  advantage  of  the 
necessities  of  the  Greeks  to  extort  unheard-of  profits  from 
their  exhausted  resources  were  most  ably  exposed  by  our 
public  writers,  and  every  possible  measure  was  taken  to  pro- 
tect the  Greeks  from  further  fraud,  as  well  as  to  relieve  them 
from  the  embarrassments  in  which  they  were  involved.  Mr 
Oontostavlos,  a  most  respectable  gentleman,  formerly  a  Sciott 


HISTORY   OF   THE   WAR   OF  INDEPENDENCE  445 

merchant,  was  sent  to  this  country  to  arrange  the  difficulties. 
He  received  the  most  efficient  and  disinterested  aid  from  Mr. 
Webster,  Mr.  Clay,  and  Mr.  Everett.  I  saw  him  last  winter 
in  Peiraeus.  He  spoke  with  deep  feeling  of  the  two  lamented 
statesmen,  whose  death  was  mourned  in  Greece  hardly  less 
than  here ;  and  of  him  who  still  survives,  of  his  unwearied 
personal  services  and  the  eloquent  appeals  from  his  pen,  no 
language  of  grateful  and  affectionate  remembrance  seemed  too 
strong.  It  was  no  small  delight  to  me  to  hear  my  eminent 
countrymen  so  spoken  of  in  that  distant  land. 

After  the  siege  of  Mesolongi,  nearly  the  whole  of  Greece 
was  in  the  possession  of  the  Turks.  Ibrahim  returned  into 
the  Peloponnesus  only  to  renew  his  ravages ;  but  in  attempting 
to  reduce  the  Maniotes,  he  suffered  several  severe  repulses. 
Athens,  almost  the  only  place  in  Eastern  Greece  that  still  held 
out,  was  closely  besieged.  Odysseus,  a  distinguished  chief- 
tain, born,  like  his  ancient  namesake,  in  Ithaca,  was  holding 
secret  and  traitorous  correspondence  with  the  Turks.  An  at- 
tempt of  Colonel  Fabvier  on  Eubcea  had  failed.  The  third 
National  Assembly  of  the  Greeks,  held  in  April  at  Epidaurus, 
dismayed  at  the  fall  of  Mesolongi,  appointed  two  commis- 
sions, —  one  of  twelve  members,  for  the  regulation  of  the  war ; 
the  other  of  thirteen,  for  the  civil  government  and  the  admin- 
istration of  the  revenues.  The  Assembly  then  adjourned  until 
September,  and  the  committees  repaired  to  Nauplia  to  assume 
their  functions.  The  war  was  carried  on  in  Eastern  Greece, 
Western  Greece,  Peloponnesus,  and  the  Islands  ;  and  the  state 
of  affairs  now  seemed  hopeless  in  all  these  great  divisions  of 
the  theatre  of  action.  In  the  month  of  July  the  Turkish 
commander,  Kintahi,  or  Reschid  Pacha,  commenced  his  opera- 
tions against  Athens,  then  commanded  by  Gouras,  formerly  a 
lieutenant  of  Odysseus,  who,  having  surrendered  himself  pris- 
oner to  the  troops  sent  against  him  in  1824,  was  put  into  close 
confinement  in  the  Acropolis  at  Athens.  A  few  days  after- 
wards his  mutilated  body  was  found  lying  at  the  foot  of  the 
Acropolis,  under  the  tower  in  which  he  had  been  confined.     It 


$46  MODERN   GREECE. 

was  given  oul  that  he  fell  and  was  accidentally  killed  in  at- 
tempting to  escape.  But  various  circumstances,  concuriing 
with  expressions  of  remorse  uttered  by  Gouras,  led  to  the 
opinion  that  this  chieftain  had  yielded  to  the  importunities  of 
the  enemies  of  Odysseus,  and  consented  that  he  should  be 
secretly  put  to  death,  —  an  act  of  treachery  to  one  who, 
though  justly  chargeable  with  want  of  fidelity  to  the  public 
cause,  yet  had  been  his  benefactor,  and  had  now  thrown  him- 
self frankly  and  unreservedly  into  his  power. 

Gouras  was  instructed  by  the  government  to  keep  the  Turks 
at  a  distance  from  Athens ;  but,  disregarding  their  orders,  he 
filled  the  magazines  of  the  Acropolis  with  provisions,  which  he 
forced  the  inhabitants  of  Attica,  in  the  most  arbitrary  manner, 
to  supply,  and  prepared  with  his  troops  to  stand  a  siege  in  that 
almost  impregnable  fortress.  Many  of  the  citizens  went  over 
to  Salamis,  as  they  did  in  the  old  Persian  wars ;  the  rest  stood 
by  their  hearths  and  altars  in  the  city.  The  Turks  soon  got 
possession  of  the  town,  though  the  outposts  were  bravely  de- 
fended. The  operations  of  the  siege  were  interrupted  by  the 
appearance  of  Colonel  Fabvier  and  Karaiskakes  on  the  Plain  of 
Athens  with  a  considerable  force ;  but,  a  battle  taking  place, 
the  Greeks  were  put  to  flight,  and  the  bombardment  of  the 
Acropolis  from  the  hill  of  the  Museum,  near  the  monument  of 
Philopappus,  was  resumed  with  great  energy.  The  siege  was 
carried  on,  not  only  by  the  incessant  firing  of  the  batteries,  but 
by  a  series  of  mines  and  countermines,  in  which  many  men 
perished.  Gouras  lost  his  life  early  in  October.  As  he  was 
going  the  rounds  by  night,  one  of  his  attendants  snapped  a  mus- 
ket ;  and  two  shots  being  fired  in  the  direction  of  the  flash,  one 
of  them  struck  him  on  the  head,  and  he  died  without  a  groan. 

Several  attempts  were  made  to  relieve  the  garrison,  but 
only  one  succeeded.  It  was  executed  by  Colonel  Fabvier  and 
a  body  of  about  six  hundred  picked  men,  who,  on  the  night  of 
December  13,  broke  through  the  Turkish  lines,  and  entered 
the  Acropolis  under  a  shower  of  grape  from  the  Museum,  with 
r  loss  of  only  six  killed  and  fourteen  wounded.      A  large  sup- 


HISTORY   OF  THE  WAR   OF  INDEPENDENCE.  447 

ply  of  powder  was  almost  the  only  advantage  secured  to  the 
garrison  by  this  daring  adventure.  The  siege  was  vigorously 
pressed,  and  the  distress  arising  from  the  crowded  state  of  the 
Acropolis  increased.  The  constant  discharge  of  cannon  did 
great  mischief  to  the  splendid  monuments  of  the  Acropolis, 
despite  the  firman  obtained  from  the  Sultan  by  Sir  Stratford 
Canning,  that  the  Parthenon  and  the  Erechtheion  should  be 
spared.  A  large  part  of  the  Erechtheion  was  battered  down ; 
and  the  family  of  Gouras,  with  the  principal  ladies  of  Athens, 
who  had  taken  shelter  there,  perished  beneath  its  ruins. 

A  fresh  National  Assembly  met  at  Trcezen  in  March,  1827, 
and  introduced  some  very  important  modifications  into  the 
Constitution,  the  most  essential  of  which  was  the  placing  of 
the  executive  power  in  the  hands  of  a  single  magistrate,  under 
the  title  of  President  of  Greece,  extending  the  term  of  office 
to  seven  years,  and  greatly  enlarging  his  powers.  After  much 
angry  disputation,  and  with  strong  reluctance  on  the  part  of 
many  members,  the  choice  finally  rested  on  John  Capo  d'ls- 
tria,  a  Corfiote,  —  a  man  of  great  talent  and  sagacity,  and  of 
large  experience  in  affairs,  having  been  long  in  the  Russian  ser- 
vice, and  being  at  that  moment  a  member  of  the  cabinet  of  the 
Czar.  As  some  time  must  elapse  before  he  would  arrive  in 
Greece,  the  executive  power  was  intrusted  to  a  commission  of 
three.  The  same  Assembly  appointed  Lord  Cochrane  to  the 
chief  command  by  sea,  and  placed  General  Church  in  the  su- 
preme command  of  the  land-forces.  These  two  officers  imme- 
diately entered  upon  their  respective  commands,  and  arrange- 
ments were  at  once  made  for  an  attack  on  the  Turkish  besiegers 
of  the  Acropolis.  Karaiskakes  also  returned  from  a  brilliant 
expedition  in  the  North.  Public  attention  was  concentrated 
upon  the  operations  for  raising  the  siege  of  Athens,  as  if  that 
were  the  last  hope  of  the  country ;  and  troops  poured  in  from 
every  quarter,  in  answer  to  the  calls  of  the  government  and  the 
commanders.  But  a  division  of  opinion  between  the  English 
officers  and  Karaiskakes  led  to  fatal  results.  This  chieftain's 
long  experience  in  the  wars  of  his  country  and  the  best  mode 


448  MODERN   GREECE. 

of  combating  the  Turks  was  set  aside  for  the  theoretical  and  per- 
haps more  scientific  tactics  of  the  new  commanders  ;  and  this 
has  been  pronounced,  no  less  by  foreign  than  by  native  writers, 
a  fatal  mistake,  analogous  to  that  of  General  Braddock  in 
rejecting  the  advice  of  Washington. 

The  Greeks,  during  the  operations  that  ensued,  committed 
one  of  those  acts  of  bad  faith  which  have  brought  so  much  re- 
proach upon  them.  An  attack  was  made  on  the  Turkish  po- 
sition in  Munychia.  The  Turks  fled,  and  three  hundred  took 
refuge  in  the  monastery  of  St.  Spiridion.  Though  surrounded 
by  the  Greeks,  cut  off  from  all  communication,  and  without 
the  slightest  chance  of  escape,  they  refused  to  surrender,  un- 
less allowed  to  retain  their  arms.  The  monastery  was  can- 
nonaded ;  and  at  last  General  Church  proposed  to  allow  them 
to  pass  out  with  their  arms,  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  the  na- 
tive officers.  The  Greeks  were  disappointed  and  enraged, 
knowing  that  the  garrison  would  in  a  few  days  be  reduced  to 
an  unconditional  surrender.  Hostages  had  been  given  for  the 
faithful  performance  of  the  agreement,  one  of  whom  was  Ka- 
raiskakes.  He,  frantic  at  this  shameful  violation  of  the  truce, 
struggled  in  vain  against  his  countrymen  ;  then,  turning  to  the 
Turks,  cried  out,  "  Kill  me,  as  I  have  killed  you."  Two  hun- 
dred Turks  were  killed ;  about  seventy  made  their  escape,  and 
reached  the  camp  of  Reschid  Pacha.  The  result  of  such  an 
act  of  treachery  was  most  disastrous.  It  demoralized  the 
Greek  forces,  and  disheartened  the  European  commanders. 
General  Church,  horror-struck,  was  on  the  point  of  resigning 
his  command;  and  was  dissuaded  from  this  step  only  b}7  the 
entreaties  of  the  Moreote  officers. 

The  next  disastrous  incident  was  the  death  of  Kaiaiskakes 
in  a  skirmish,  on  the  4th  of  May.  A  body  of  Greek  soldiers 
made  an  irregular  attack  upon  some  of  the  Turkish  outposts. 
The  assailants  were  driven  back.  Karaiskakes  was  sick  and 
in  bed ;  but  hearing  the  fire,  he  rose,  sprang  upon  his  horse, 
and  galloped  into  the  midst  of  the  battle.  While  endeavor 
ing  to  rally  the  fugitives,  he  was  shot  by  a  Turkish  horse 


HISTORY   OF   THE  WAR   OF  INDEPENDENCE.  449 

uiari,  and  was  carried  mortally  wounded  from  the  field.  He 
was  taken  on  board  one  of  the  ships,  and  there,  conscious  of 
his  approaching  death,  passed  the  last  hours  of  his  existence 
in  an  earnest  conversation  with  Lord  Cochrane  and  the  other 
chiefs  on  the  state  of  the  country,  and  the  proper  measures  to 
be  taken  for  her  deliverance.  When  some  words  of  consola- 
tion were  addressed  to  him  in  praise  of  the  brilliancy  of  his 
achievements,  he  answered,  "  What  I  have  done,  I  have  done  ; 
what  has  happened,  has  happened  ;  now  for  the  future."  And 
when  he  was  drawing  his  last  breath,  he  said  to  those  around 
him,  among  whom  were  Lord  Cochrane  and  General  Church : 
"  My  country  laid  upon  me  a  heavy  task.  I  have  fulfilled  my 
duty  by  ten  months  of  terrible  battles.  Nothing  remained  ex- 
cept my  life.  This  I  owed  to  my  country  ;  this  I  surrender  to 
my  country.  I  am  dying.  Let  my  fellow-soldiers  finish  my 
work  ;  let  them  save  my  Athens."  These  were  his  last  words. 
His  bravery,  his  patriotism,  his  heroic  death,  threw  the  errors 
of  his  previous  life  into  oblivion ;  and  he  is  justly  regarded  by 
his  countrymen  as  one  of  the  most  illustrious  of  Grecian  he 
roes.  Funeral  honors  were  paid  to  his  memory  by  the  Na- 
tional Assembly  at  Troezen,  and  an  eloquent  discourse  pro- 
nounced by  Mr.  Tricoupi,  in  the  presence  of  the  Deputies, 
the  Executive  Council,  and  a  large  concourse  of  citizens.  The 
stranger  who  visits  Athens  gazes  with  interest,  as  he  enters 
the  harbor  of  Peirseus,  upon  the  ruins  of  the  tomb  of  Themis- 
tocles,  which  looked  out  upon  the  waters  of  Salamis,  the  scene 
of  his  glory  ;  and  as  he  passes  up  from  Peirseus  to  Athens, 
along  the  foundations  of  the  ancient  walls  which  connected  the 
port  with  the  city,  he  beholds  with  equal  interest,  in  a  field  at 
a  distance  from  the  road,  the  monument  erected  on  the  spot 
where  the  modern  hero  fell. 

Two  days  afterward  the  fate  of  the  attempt  to  raise  the  siege 
of  Athens  was  decided.  On  the  6th  of  May  one  of  the  most 
sanguinary  battles  which  had  occurred  in  the  whole  war  was 
fought  in  the  environs  of  Athens.  Lord  Cochrane  had  said 
that  he  should   dine  on   the  Acropolis.     Vain  boast !     The 

vol.   H.  29 


450  MODERN   GREECT- 

Turkish  horsemen  —  always  the  most  formidable  arm  of  the 
service  —  dashed  impetuously  upon  the  Greeks,  and  cut  them 
to  pieces  with  dreadful  slaughter.  The  panic-stricken  survi- 
vors of  the  main  body  fled.  A  band  of  Souliotes  maintained 
their  ground,  and  were  nearly  all  slain.  The  rout  was  com- 
plete ;  "  and  for  two  hours,"  says  Dr.  Howe,  "  the  plain 
presented  only  a  picture  of  detached  fights,  between  bands 
of  ten,  five,  or  three  Greeks  and  dozens  of  Turks,  who  soon 
cut  them  to  pieces,  though  after  desperate  resistance."  Lord 
Cochrane  and  General  Church,  who  were  advancing  with 
supplies  and  reinforcements,  were  obliged  to  retreat,  and  take 
refuge  on  board  the  ships.  The  centre  and  left  wing,  amount- 
ing to  seven  thousand  men,  who  had  borne  no  part  in  the  bat- 
tle, immediately  fled  in  the  direction  of  the  Isthmus.  The 
posts  around  Peiraeus  were  abandoned.  The  ground  was 
strewn  with  fifteen  hundred  of  the  flower  of  the  Grecian 
warriors.  Nearly  all  the  Europeans  engaged  in  the  battle 
perished.  Many  of  the  bravest  leaders  fell ;  others  were  taken 
prisoners,  of  whom  two  hundred  and  forty  were  beheaded  the 
next  morning.  Lord  Cochrane  immediately  withdrew  with  his 
squadron  to  Hydra.  General  Church  continued  at  Phale 
rum,  with  two  thousand  men,  three  weeks  longer,  when,  find- 
ing his  men  disheartened  and  ready  to  desert,  he  dismantled 
the  batteries,  and  abandoned  all  the  positions.  Some  attempts 
were  subsequently  made  to  relieve  the  garrison  by  an  expe- 
dition in  the  enemy's  rear,  to  cut  off  his  supplies.  The  citadel 
was,  however,  surrendered  on  the  5th  of  June. 

The  fall  of  Athens  was  felt  as  a  tremendous  blow  all  over 
Greece.  It  seemed  to  extinguish  the  last  spark  of  hope  that 
the  war  could  be  continued.  The  poverty  that  covered  the 
country  was  indescribable.  But  the  sympathies  of  the  world 
were  aroused  anew  by  the  tales  of  starvation  and  woe  which 
reached  the  ears  of  the  humane  everywhere.  In  the  United 
States  societies  were  formed  to  raise  contributions,  and  sev- 
en cargoes  were  despatched,  which  saved  thousands  of  the 
wretched  population  from  dying  of  hunger,  and  infused   nen 


HISTORY   OF   THE  WAB   OF  INDEPENDENCE.  451 

strength  into  the  heart  of  the  nation.  The  aid  rendered  to 
prostrate  Hellas  in  that  houi  of  her  saddest  extremity  is  not 
forgotten ;  and  the  names  of  those  who  were  instrumental  in 
this  blessed  work  of  charity  are  spoken  with  gratitude  in  the 
huts  of  the  peasantry  all  over  Greece. 

The  cabinets  of  Europe  also  were  no  longer  insensible  to  the 
duty  of  putting  a  stop  to  the  existing  state  of  things.  The 
tone  of  the  English  government  had  been  greatly  altered  by 
the  influence  of  Canning's  genius  and  humanity ;  and  the  old 
Tory  sympathy  with  the  Turks,  in  their  lawful  efforts  to  sup- 
press the  unjustifiable  insurrection  of  their  rebellious  rayahs, 
was  felt  to  be  false  to  the  spirit  of  the  times,  and  traitorous  to 
the  rights  of  man.  Before  the  insurrection,  the  Greeks  had 
sent  a  deputation  to  St.  Petersburg,  to  offer  the  crown  of 
Greece  to  one  of  the  Grand-Dukes,  in  the  hope  of  securing  the 
support  of  so  powerful  a  state  to  their  cause.  The  offer  was 
declined.  During  the  war  they  sent  another  deputation  to 
Paris,  proposing  that  one  of  the  sons  of  Louis  Philippe,  then 
Duke  of  Orleans,  should  be  placed  on  the  throne.  Here  again 
they  met  with  disappointment.  Later  still,  they  threw  them- 
selves on  the  protection  of  England,  offering  to  confer  the 
crown  on  Prince  Leopold ;  but  the  proposition  was  at  first 
coldly  received.  The  successes  of  Ibrahim  Pacha,  and  the 
prospect  of  having  a  powerful  Egyptian  government,  indepen- 
dent of  the  Porte,  established  in  Greece,  had  some  effect  in  ex- 
citing the  alarm  of  Europe  ;  and  the  disturbance  of  commerce 
in  the  Levant  became  more  and  more  serious.  In  1826,  Russia 
manifested  a  disposition  to  take  the  settlement  of  affairs  into 
her  own  hands.  Mr.  Canning  seized  the  occasion  of  the  Duke 
of  Wellington's  mission  to  St.  Petersburg,  in  that  year,  to 
communicate  the  readiness  of  the  British  Cabinet  to  join  in  an 
arrangement  for  the  pacification  of  Greece.  The  result  of  this 
communication  was  the  signature  of  the  protocol  of  the  4th  of 
April.  This  was  followed  by  a  series  of  diplomatic  discussions, 
leading  to  the  treaty  signed  at  London  on  the  6th  of  July,  1827, 
by  the  plenipotentiaries  of  Russia,  France,  and  England,  which 


452  MODERN  GREECE. 

provided  that  an  immediate  armistice  should  be  established  be- 
tween Turkey  and  Greece,  and  proposed  to  place  Greece  on 
the  footing  of  a  tributary  province,  under  the  sovereignty  of 
the  Sultan,  but  with  the  right  of  electing  her  own  governors, 
subject  to  the  approval  of  the  Porte.  The  feeble  and  wretch- 
ed condition  of  Greece  put  it  out  of  the  question  for  her  to 
reject  these  humiliating  terms ;  but  one  finds  it  hard  to  read 
these  details  without  indignation  at  the  bare  suggestion  of  re- 
placing that  long-suffering  country,  after  seven  years  of  such  a 
war  as  modern  times  have  nowhere  else  witnessed,  even  under 
a  merely  nominal  subjection  to  her  old  and  relentless  oppres- 
sor. The  Porte  refused  to  allow  any  interference  in  its  own 
affairs,  and  even  to  receive  a  written  communication  from  the 
ministers  of  the  Western  powers. 

This  obstinacy  of  the  Porte,  which  was  but  too  well  justified 
by  the  previous  assurances  of  the  cabinets  that  they  had  no 
intention  of  interfering,  induced  England  and  France  to  aug- 
ment their  naval  forces  in  the  Mediterranean.  Russia  sent  a 
squadron  to  join  them.  *The  British  admiral,  Sir  Edward 
Codrington,  was  instructed  to  prevent  the  landing  in  Greece 
of  any  forces  from  Egypt  or  Turkey.  The  Greeks  had  put  a 
stop  to  all  military  operations,  as  soon  as  the  treaty  was  known ; 
but  as  Ibrahim  continued  his  ravages,  and  violated  a  tempo- 
rary armistice  to  which  he  had  agreed  with  Codrington,  they 
again  took  up  arms.  The  combined  Egyptian  and  Turkish 
fleets  lay  concentrated  in  the  harbor  of  Navarino,  when,  on  the 
20th  of  October,  the  English,  French,  and  Russian  squadrons 
entered  the  bay,  resolved,  at  all  hazards,  to  put  a  stop  to  the 
enormities  still  perpetrated  by  Ibrahim,  and  to  force  him  to 
comply  with  their  proposals,  and  either  to  quit  the  Pelopon- 
nesus altogether  or  to  put  an  end  to  his  devastations.  The 
Turks  were  drawn  up  in  order  of  battle,  and  they  having  fired 
jpon  a  boat  with  a  flag  of  truce,  and  killed  several  persons  on 
ooard,  a  terrible  battle  instantly  commenced,  which  lasted  four 
hours.  The  Turco-Egyptian  fleet  consisted  of  seventy-nine 
ships-of-war,  and  other  vessels,  amounting  in  all  to  a  hundred 


HISTORY   OF  THE  WAR   OF  INDEPENDENCE.  453 

and  twenty,  carrying  2,240  cannon ;  the  fleet  of  the  allies 
amounted  to  only  twenty-six,  with  1,324  guns;  but,  though 
the  battle  was  obstinate  and  bloody,  it  resulted  in  the  utter 
defeat  of  the  Turks  and  Egyptians.  They  refused  to  strike. 
Some  of  their  ships  were  burned ;  others  were  driven  on 
shore,  and  nearly  all  disabled ;  only  twenty  or  thirty  corvettes 
and  brigs  remaining  in  a  sailing  condition.  Six  thousand  men 
perished. 

So  tremendous  a  catastrophe  caused  for  a  moment  an  invol- 
untary cessation  of  hostilities.  Europe  and  America  resounded 
with  triumph  and  exultation ;  and  the  Greeks,  filled  with  new 
hope,  returned  thanks  to  Heaven  for  so  signal  and  unlooked-for 
a  deliverance.  But  when  the  news  reached  Constantinople,  it 
found  the  Porte  still  intractable  and  violent.  "  My  positive, 
absolute,  definitive,  unchangeable,  eternal  answer,"  said  the 
minister  to  the  interpreters  of  England,  France,  and  Russia, 
"  is  that  the  Sublime  Porte  does  not  accept  any  proposition 
concerning  the  Greeks,  and  means  to  persist  in  its  own  will 
for  ever  and  ever,  even  unto  the  day  of  the  last  judgment." 
In  this  obstinate  course  of  conduct  the  Porte  was  sustained  by 
Austria,  under  the  inspiration  of  Metternich,  to  whom  the 
alliance  between  Russia,  France,  and  England,  and  all  the 
recent  proceedings  for  the  salvation  of  Greece,  were  in  the 
highest  degree  distasteful.  But  it  was  impossible  for  the  Porte 
long  to  hold  out.  In  April,  1828,  Russia  declared  war  against 
Turkey,  and  compelled  the  Sultan  to  turn  his  chief  attention 
in  that  direction. 

The  President  elect,  Capo  d'Istria,  —  having  procured  his 
dismissal  from  the  Russian  service,  spent  about  ten  months  in 
St.  Petersburg,  Paris,  and  London,  in  Drder  to  come  to  a  distinct 
understanding  with  the  three  protecting  powers,  and  effected 
a  loan,  then  highly  necessary  to  the  reorganization  of  Greece, 
—  arrived  at  Nauplia  in  January,  1828,  and  thence  pro- 
ceeded to  ^Egina,  where  the  government  had  at  that  time  es- 
tablished itself.  While  in  England  he  succeeded  in  winning 
the  good- will  of  the  leading  statesmen,   except  the   Duke  of 


454  MODERN   GREECE. 

Wellington,  who  persisted  in  thinking  the  battle  of  Navarino 
an  untoward  event.  Immediately  on  his  arrival  he  assumed 
the  duties  of  his  office,  and  set  about  the  Herculean  task  of  re 
storing  order  in  the  demoralized  and  disorganized  condition  of 
She  country,  with  marvellous  activity  and  talent,  having  the 
lid  of  Mr.  Tricoupi  as  Secretary  of  State.  The  Porte  still 
refusing  terms  of  peace,  a  French  expedition  sailed  from  Tou- 
lon, and  Ibrahim  Pacha  was  glad  to  accept  terms,  and  make 
his  way  back  to  Egypt  with  the  remains  of  his  shattered  fleet. 
The  last  sail  of  the  hostile  armament  disappeared  from  Greece 
on  the  7th  of  October ;  and  the  last  battle  on  land  was  fought 
the  next  year  in  Boeotia,  by  Prince  Demetrius  Ypselanti,  who, 
with  three  thousand  men,  gained  a  brilliant  victory  over  a  hos- 
tile force  of  seven  thousand ;  thus  triumphantly  completing  a 
struggle  which  eight  years  before  his  brother  Alexander  had 
opened  by  a  disastrous  defeat. 

The  Porte  at  last,  terrified  by  the  successes  of  the  Russian 
arms,  accepted  the  proposition  of  the  great  powers,  and  hostil- 
ities thenceforth  ceased  between  the  Turks  and  the  Greeks. 

On  a  general  review  of  the  contest  now  brought  to  a  close, 
I  think  we  may  assert  that  the  Greeks  were  right  in  com- 
mencing it,  and  justified  in  commencing  it  when  they  did  ; 
that  they  were  entitled  to  the  cordial  support  of  Christian 
nations  at  the  outset,  though  so  far  were  they  from  receiving 
it  that  they  were  deemed  by  the  Holy  Alliance  as  rebels ; 
that  the  course  of  the  great  powers  was  at  first  cold  and  cruel, 
and  afterwards  wavering ;  and  that  they  ungenerously  re- 
quired the  emancipated  country,  at  the  moment  of  pacification, 
to  acknowledge  itself  tributary  to  the  Porte,  when  the  Greeks 
had  fairly  entitled  themselves,  by  their  courage  and  sufferings, 
to  the  guaranties  of  Europe  for  their  national  existence  and 
their  absolute  and  unqualified  independence. 


LECTURE    X. 

GREECE   AFTER   THE   REVOLUTION.  —  ACCESSION    OF   KINO 

OTHO. 

In  the  few  incidents  of  the  Greek  Revolution  which  have 
been  cited,  we  have  seen  the  bravery  and  endurance  of  the 
people  of  Greece,  stained  by  occasional  deeds  of  bad  faith  and 
bloodshed,  when  the  pledged  word  of  their  rightful  commanders, 
no  less  than  the  established  rules  of  warfare,  should  have  with- 
held the  hand  of  violence ;  and  on  the  other  side,  a  ruthless 
spirit  of  extermination  the  rule  and  not  the  exception,  and  a 
slavery  worse  than  death  the  lot  of  those  whom  the  sword  had 
spared.  We  have  seen  the  patient  suffering  in  the  cause  of  lib- 
erty and  national  independence  overmatching  the  dogged  ob- 
stinacy of  the  Moslem,  which  declared  its  resolution  unalterable 
till  the  day  of  judgment,  —  the  day  of  judgment  proving  to  be 
announced  by  the  thunders  of  Russian  cannon.  We  have 
seen  the  Greeks  struggling  with  the  enormous  despotism  which 
weighed  them  to  the  earth ;  then  denounced  as  rebels  by 
Christian  governments ;  then  aided  with  money  and  arms  by 
Christian  men  ;  next  the  subject  of  diplomatic  negotiations ; 
finally,  as  a  result  of  the  blind  obstinacy  of  the  Turks,  sud- 
denly rescued  from  the  prospect  of  immediate  annihilation  by 
a  bloody  naval  battle  in  the  waters  of  ancient  Pylos,  which 
took  every  one  by  surprise,  thrilled  the  heart  of  the  world, 
frightened  cabinets  from  their  propriety,  and  was  regretted 
by  the  King  of  England,  in  his  speech  to  Parliament,  as  ua 
collision  wholly  unexpected  by  his  Majesty,"  —  his  Majesty 
deeply  lamenting  "  that  this  conflict  should  have  occurred  with 
the  naval  force  of  an  ancient  ally."     We  have  seen  the  great 


456  MODERN   GREECE. 

powers  resolving  to  bring  about  a  pacification  of  the  East,  bm 
in  such  a  way  as  to  show  reluctance,  selfishness,  an  utter 
absence  of  sympathy  for  the  sacred  rights  so  long  and  so  des- 
perately struggled  for,  and  a  determination,  if  possible,  to 
keep  Greece  still  subject  to  the  Porte,  making  compensation 
to  that  barbarous  power  for  the  partial  loss  of  a  revolted  prov- 
ince by  tribute  wrung  from  the  exhausted  land  over  which 
the  storms  of  war  had  for  eight  years  swept  with  desolating 
fury.  Such  was  the  treaty  of  July  6,  1827,  praised  by  some 
writers  as  the  acme  of  generosity,  but  in  truth  a  most  lame 
and  impotent  conclusion  of  high  pretensions  and  sounding 
promises.  It  treated  Turkey  as  still  the  rightful  sovereign  ■ 
Greece,  as  still  the  revolted  province,  and  bound  to  consider 
the  privilege  of  choosing  her  governors,  subject  to  the  approval 
of  the  Porte,  as  a  great  indulgence,  for  which  she  was  to  pay  a 
heavy  annual  tax.  On  the  22d  of  March,  1829,  another  pro- 
tocol was  adopted,  more  precisely  defining  the  boundaries,  and 
again  providing  that  Greece  should  be  a  principality,  acknowl- 
edging the  sovereignty  of  the  Porte,  and  paying  tribute  as 
before.  These  provisions  were  strongly  objected  to,  on  the 
most  obvious  grounds  of  justice,  by  the  National  Assembly, 
which  sat  from  July  to  August  of  that  year  in  Argos. 

In  the  following  year,  the  discussion  of  the  destinies  of 
Greece  was  renewed;  and  it  was  finally  determined  —  the 
great  powers  having  made  up  their  minds  to  that  effect —  that 
Greece  should  be  wholly  free  from  Turkey,  and  invested  with 
all  the  rights  of  a  sovereign  state  ;  but,  to  make  some  compen- 
sation for  this  interference  with  the  oft-acknowledged  rights 
of  Turkey,  they  reduced  the  boundary  on  the  north,  and  at  the 
same  time  determined  that  the  government  should  be  a  mon- 
archy. They  agreed  to  select  a  prince  from  some  European 
royal  family,  excluding  the  members  of  the  reigning  houses 
in  the  three  protecting  governments.  The  appointment  was 
first  offered  to  Prince  John,  the  royal  scholar  and  poet  of  Sax- 
ony, who  declined  it.  The  choice  next  fell  on  Prince  Leopold 
of  Saxe-Coburg,  the  husband  of  the  lamented  Princess  Char- 


tiLEECE   AFTER   THE   REVOLUTION.  457 

lotte,  who,  at  first  entertaining  the  proposition  and  accepting  the 
appointment,  after  a  few  months  abdicated.  It  is  curious  that 
both  of  these  princes  are  at  this  moment  kings.  —  the  former 
having  recently  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  Saxony  by  the  ac- 
cidental death  of  his  brother,  and  the  latter  having  many  years 
ago  been  raised  to  the  throne  of  Belgium,  on  the  separation  of 
that  country  from  Holland.  The  wisdom  and  success  with 
which  he  has  administered  the  government  of  Belgium,  through 
all  the  revolutionary  crises  which  have  disturbed  the  political 
condition  of  Europe,  make  us  regret  that  he  was  induced  to 
withdraw  from  the  task  of  governing  Greece.  He  was  cen- 
sured, at  the  time,  for  having  taken  this  step ;  but  the  circum- 
stances brought  out  in  his  correspondence  with  the  plenipoten- 
tiaries, and  with  the  President  of  Greece,  fully  justify  him, 
and  explain  his  course,  without  resorting  to  the  supposition, 
then  hazarded  in  some  quarters,  that  political  prospects  in  Eng- 
land—  the  possibility  of  being  called  to  the  Regency,  should 
the  Princess  Victoria  succeed  to  the  throne  in  her  minority 

—  influenced  his  decision. 

One  thing  is  singular  in  the  conduct  of  the  Western  powers, 

—  they  do  not  appear  to  have  thought  it  possible  to  organize 
the  new  government  under  a  native  of  the  country.  Why 
did  they  not  consider  the  election  of  Capo  d'Istria  as  a  set- 
tlement of  the  administration,  at  least  during  the  period  for 
which  he  was  chosen  by  the  National  Assembly  ?  Why  did 
they  not  furnish  their  succor,  protection,  and  guaranties  to  his 
government,  without  displacing  him  ?  It  is  true,  a  republic 
could  hardly  have  been  favorably  regarded  then,  and  in  the 
neighborhood  of  such  a  despotism.  It  may  also  be  true,  that  the 
difficulty  of  harmonizing  the  discordant  elements  would  have 
been  greater  under  a  native  of  the  country,  against  whom  the 
rivalries  and  cabals  of  competitors  would  easily  be  roused  into 
dangerous  activity,  than  under  a  foreign  prince,  resting  on  for- 
eign support.  Yet  the  objections  to  the  selection  of  a  foreigner, 
not  speaking  the  language  of  the  country,  not  familiar  with 
the  people  of  the  country,  and  not  of  the  religion  o^  the  coun- 


458  MODERN   GREECE. 

try,  are  greaf  and  obvious,  if  the  good  of  the  people  was  the 
object  chiefly  to  be  considered.  But  with  all  the  philanthropic 
pretensions  of  the  high  contracting  parties,  there  was  not  much 
disinterested  benevolence  in  their  dealings  with  unfortunate 
Greece.  Assuming,  however,  that  the  establishment  of  an 
hereditary  government,  under  a  foreign  prince,  was  the  best 
settlement,  on  the  whole,  of  the  affairs  of  that  country,  the 
selection  of  Prince  Leopold  as  Sovereign  Prince  —  for  that  was 
the  title  proposed  to  be  accorded  to  him  —  was  the  most  ju- 
dicious that  could  be  made.  He  was  designated  by  a  protocol 
of  February  3,  1830,  and  the  choice  was  communicated  to 
him  on  the  same  day.  The  Prince,  taking  until  the  11th  for 
consideration,  on  that  day  signified  his  acceptance,  with  certain 
conditions  and  reservations  relating  to  the  guaranties  of  the 
mediating  states,  the  necessary  supplies  of  money  and  troops, 
the  securities  to  be  extended  to  Samos  and  Crete,  and  some 
alterations  in  the  proposed  boundaries  of  the  new  principality. 
A  new  protocol  met  a  part  of  the  Prince's  objections,  but  de- 
clared that  any  further  discussion  as  to  Samos  and  Crete  would 
be  declined  ;  and  the  boundary  line  in  question  was  considered 
as  settled,  namely,  from  the  mouth  of  the  Aspropotamos  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Spercheios.  The  proceedings  of  the  con- 
ference and  the  ground  taken  by  the  Prince  were  made  known 
to  the  Greeks,  and  laid  by  the  President  before  the  National 
Assembly.  They  were  well  satisfied  with  the  selection  of 
Leopold;  but  the  details  of  the  adjustment  of  Hellenic  af- 
fairs were  received  at  first  with  silence,  and  afterwards  de- 
cidedly rejected.  The  members  declared  the  boundary  line 
wholly  inadmissible,  and  declined  to  assume  the  responsibility 
of  acceding  to  any  part  of  the  arrangements,  declaring  that  it 
was  beyond  their  competency,  and  that  the  country  would  not 
for  a  moment  listen  to  them.  In  several  long  and  very  able 
letters  written  in  reply  to  communications  addressed  to  him  by 
Leopold,  in  the  course  of  the  following  months,  the  President 
laid  open  very  fully  and  frankly  the  state  of  public  feeling,  anc 
the  great  difficulties  in  the  way  of  carrying  out  the  proposeC 


GREECE   AFTER  THE  REVOLUTION.  459 

settlement;.  He  reminded  the  Prince,  that  in  the  provinces  to  be 
left  under  the  Porte  there  was  a  large  Greek  population  never 
wholly  subjected  to  the  Turks  ;  that  they  had  been  among  the 
bravest  in  the  war ;  that  they  had  furnished  nearly  two  thirds 
\>f  the  Greek  army ;  and  that  probably,  if  these  troops  found 
that  they  were  to  be  restored  to  their  old  oppressors,  they 
would  return  to  their  former  way  of  life,  as  Klephts  and  Arma- 
toles.  At  the  same  time  the  President  urged  him  to  hasten 
his  arrival,  as  a  very  important  measure  for  quieting  the  agita- 
tions of  the  country ;  hinting  also,  that,  as  the  resolutions  of  the 
London  conference  contained  not  a  single  word  about  the  con- 
stitutional rights  of  the  Greeks,  it  would  be  very  desirable  if 
the  Sovereign  Prince  would  at  once  make  known  his  recogni- 
tion of  the  existing  constitutional  forms,  and  of  the  guaranty 
given  by  the  Assembly  at  Argos,  that  the  lawful  claims  of  all 
the  citizens  who  had  made  great  sacrifices  during  the  war 
should  be  satisfied.  In  a  similar  communication  to  the  resi- 
dents of  the  three  powers,  the  President  touched  upon  the  same 
difficulties. 

The  President  and  the  government  of  Greece  were  fully  jus- 
tified in  all  these  proceedings.  The  boundary  line  proposed 
was  much  more  objectionable  than  that  finally  adopted ;  and 
the  unwise  and  illiberal  policy  of  the  great  powers  on  this  point 
has  been  the  cause  of  many  difficulties  in  the  East.  The 
armed  insurrection  of  last  spring  in  Thessaly  and  Epeirus  is  but 
one  of  the  remote  consequences  of  that  unhappy  settlement. 

The  results  of  the  London  conference  had  the  worst  effect 
on  public  feeling  in  Greece,  and  gave  rise  to  the  suspicion, 
natural  enough,  though  wholly  unfounded,  that  the  English 
Cabinet  had  a  secret  purpose  of  extending  over  the  Peloponne- 
sus the  control  they  exercised  in  the  Ionian  Islands.  A  strong 
opposition  was  of  course  aroused  among  the  Greeks  of  the 
mainland  and  the  islands,  who  were  to  be  again  the  subjects 
of  the  Turks.  Other  parries,  on  other  grounds,  were  clamor- 
ous against  the  settlement,  though  not  from  any  dislike  to  the 
personal  character  of  the  elected  prince.     AW  these  circuin- 


460  MODERN   GREECE. 

stances  could  not  fail  to  make  a  painful  impression  or.  the  mind 
of  an  honorable  man  like  Leopold.  Taking  them  all  into  con- 
sideration, he  addressed  a  letter  of  abdication  to  the  plenipoten- 
tiaries, dated  May  22,  1830,  in  which  he  very  ably  recapitu- 
lates his  objections,  and  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  their  pro- 
ject. He  reminds  them  that  he  had  already  "  protested  against 
going  out  to  govern  the  Greeks  in  pursuance  of  a  treaty  which 
might  also  lead  to  the  bloodshed  and  murder  of  their  brethren. 

.  .  .  His  first  act  as  a  sovereign  will  have  to  be  either  to  com- 
pel his  own  subjects,  by  force  of  foreign  arms,  to  submit  to  the 
cession  of  their  estates  and  property  to  their  enemies,  or  to 
join  with  them  in  resisting  or  evading  that  very  treaty  which 

places  him  on  the  throne  of  Greece The  country  which  is 

now  to  be  given  up  to  the  Turks  is,  together  with  the  fortresses, 
in  the  peaceable  possession  of  the  Greeks.  It  is  the  country  from 
which  Greece  can  best  supply  herself  with  timber  for  building 
ships.  It  is  the  country  which  has  furnished  the  best  soldiers 
during  the  war.  The  chief  military  leaders  of  the  Greeks  have 
been  of  Acarnanian  and  ^Etolian  families.  When  the  under- 
signed contemplated  the  high  distinction  of  becoming  sovereign 
of  Greece,  it  was  with  the  hope  of  being  acknowledged  freely 
and  unanimously  by  the  Greek  nation,  and  welcomed  by  them 
as  the  friend  through  whose  means  their  long  and  heroic  strug- 
gles were  to  be  repaid  by  the  security  of  their  territories,  and 
the  establishment  of  their  independence  on  a  permanent  and 
honorable  basis.  It  is  with  the  deepest  regret  that  the  under- 
signed sees  these  hopes  annihilated,  and  is  forced  to  declare 
that  the  arrangements  of  the  allied  powers  and  the  opposition 
of  the  Greeks  deprive  him  of  the  power  of  effecting  this  sa- 
2red  and  glorious  object,  and  would  impose  on  him  an  office  of 
a  very  different  character,  —  that  of  a  delegate  of  the  allied 
courts,  appointed  by  them  to  hold  Greece  in  subjection  by  the 

force  of  their  arms The  undersigned  therefore  formally 

resigns  into  the  hands  of  the  plenipotentiaries  a  trust  whicb 
circumstances  no  longer  permit  him  to  execute  with  honor  to 
himself,  benefit  to  Greece,  or  advantage  to  the  general  interests 

>f  Europe." 


GREECE   AFTER   THE  REVOLUTION.  461 

These  extracts  show  the  character  of  the  man.  The  same 
tone  runs  through  his  voluminous  correspondence ;  and  I  am 
sure  that  any  fair-minded  reader  of  the  documents  will  be  im- 
pressed, as  I  have  been,  with  the  high  honor  of  the  Prince,  and 
the  delicacy  of  his  conduct  at  every  step  of  the  negotiations. 
His  resignation  again  embarrassed  and  complicated  the  Greek 
question.  The  Greeks  themselves  were  struck  with  surprise 
and  sorrow ;  for,  as  I  have  already  stated,  they  objected  not  to 
him,  but  to  the  terms  of  the  treaty.  All  the  provinces  of 
Greece  had  formally  expressed  their  confidence  in  him,  their 
gratitude  for  the  happy  choice  made  by  the  allied  courts,  and 
their  earnest  desire  that  he  would  appear  among  them  and 
assume  the  reins  of  government  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 
The  disappointment  when  the  newTs  of  his  abdication  arrived 
was  in  proportion  to  the  anticipated  benefits  of  his  reign ;  for 
they  were  convinced  that  he  might  finally  have  removed  all 
the  objectionable  features  of  the  treaty.  But  there  was  no 
other  remedy  than  to  request  the  great  powers  to  elect  another 
sovereign.  The  wishes  of  the  Greek  government  on  this  sub- 
ject were  conveyed  to  the  residents  in  a  communication  of  the 
Senate,  through  the  President,  dated  August  4,  1830 ;  but 
the  revolution  of  1830  in  France  drove  Charles  X.  from  the 
throne,  and  occupied  the  attention  of  the  statesmen  of  Europe 
with  nearer  interests  and  more  pressing  questions.  The  ex- 
citement in  Greece  caused  by  this  event  gave  rise  to  disturb- 
ances in  the  Morea,  where  the  chieftains,  reduced  to  the  con- 
dition of  private  citizens,  had  already  given  manifest  signs  of 
discontent  and  turbulence.  The  President  sent  a  strong  force 
into  the  Morea,  which  tended  only  to  increase  the  alarm  of  the 
people  and  the  restless  agitation  of  the  discontented  chiefs ;  and 
a  grave  catastrophe  was  seen  to  be  near  at  hand,  not  only  on 
account  of  the  violent  opposition  to  the  government,  but  also 
of  the  pressing  pecuniary  difficulties  of  the  nation. 

The  opposition  became  more  furious  in  consequence  of 
measures  unwisely  taken  by  the  President  to  make  changes  in 
the  administration  of  justice ,  especially  in  the  punishment  of 


462  MODERN   GREECE. 

treason.  Prosecutions  commenced  against  two  distinguish sd 
men,  Christophorus  Perrhasbos  and  Michael  Grivas,  for  violent 
language  against  the  head  of  the  state  ;  their  imprisonment  for 
six  months  in  the  fortress  of  Palamedi  at  Nauplia ;  their  trial 
for  treason  before  a  special  court  appointed  by  the  govern- 
ment ;  their  degradation  from  their  military  rank,  and  longer 
imprisonment  in  the  Palamedi ;  —  these  violent  proceedings, 
and  others  equally  unconstitutional,  not  only  weakened  the 
power  of  the  government,  but  exposed  the  President  to  the 
fiercest  hatred  of  the  factions  into  which  the  people  were  di- 
vided. They  became  convinced  that  he  aimed  at  the  over- 
throw of  popular  rights,  the  destruction  of  the  municipal  sys- 
tem, and  the  establishment  of  a  despotism  in  his  own  person ; 
and  that  no  safety  was  to  be  found  but  in  unceasing  opposition 
to  all  the  measures  of  the  government.  Large  subscriptions 
were  made  to  establish  an  opposition  press  in  Nauplia.  It  was 
to  be  edited  by  one  of  the  most  enlightened  men  in  Greece,  — 
Mr.  Polyzoides,  —  and  the  first  number  was  to  appeal'  on  the 
1st  of  January,  1831 ;  but  the  President  caused  all  the  copies 
to  be  seized  before  they  could  be  put  into  circulation.  Poly 
zoides  immediately  left  Nauplia,  and  going  to  Hydra,  already 
the  head-quarters  of  the  discontented,  recommenced  his  journal, 
which  was  supported  with  great  spirit  by  the  Hydriotes  and 
the  increasing  opposition  all  over  Greece.  The  attempts  of 
the  President  to  induce  the  Senate  to  restrain  by  law  the  free- 
dom of  the  press  were  unsuccessful ;  the  measures  taken  to 
check  the  circulation  of  the  Apollo  (that  was  the  name  of 
the  journal)  were  equally  futile.  The  President,  who  seems 
to  have  totally  lost  his  balance  amidst  the  difficulties  of  his 
situation,  went  personally  to  Hydra  on  board  a  Russian  ship, 
and  demanded  the  immediate  surrender  of  editor,  printer,  and 
press.  The  Hydriotes  not  only  refused  obedience,  but  de- 
manded a  national  assembly,  a  revision  of  the  Constitution, 
freedom  of  the  press,  and  an  examination  of  the  public  ac- 
counts, as  indispensable  conditions  of  further  submission  to  the 
existing  government.     The  power  of  the  disaffecled  was  aug 


GREECE   AFTER   THE  REVOLUTION.  463 

mented  by  the  return  of  the  Hydriote  ships,  with  which  were 
combined  those  of  Spezzia  from  Syra,  as  soon  as  the  news  of 
the  quarrel  with  the  government  reached  them ;  and  the  ranks 
were  increased  by  the  assembling  on  that  island  of  the  exiles 
and  refugees  from  other  parts  of  Greece.  The  state  of  public 
feeling  at  this  moment  is  powerfully  delineated  in  a  novel 
called  Exoristos,  or  the  Exile,  by  Alexander  Soutsos,  one  of  the 
ablest  Greek  writers  of  the  age.  It  was  published  in  Athens 
in  1835,  after  the  crisis  had  passed ;  obstacles  having  hindered 
its  earlier  appearance.  "  But,"  says  the  writer  in  the  Preface, 
"  I  hope  the  publication  of  it  at  any  time  will  not  prove  fruit- 
less in  exciting  a  hatred  against  absolute  power  and  a  love  for 
constitutional  securities." 

The  hostile  movements  in  the  Morea  have  already  been  al- 
luded to.  Among  the  principal  families  in  that  part  of  Greece 
was  the  numerous  and  powerful  clan  of  the  Mavromichales,  the 
head  of  which,  Petros,  had  enjoyed  the  dignity  of  Bey.  This 
chieftain  had  exercised  his  great  influence  in  promoting  the 
election  of  Capo  d'Istria,  and  one  of  the  first  appointments 
made  by  the  President  was  that  of  Mavromichales  to  the  de- 
partment of  war.  But  disagreements  soon  broke  out,  and  some 
members  of  the  family  were  active  leaders  in  the  movements 
against  the  government  in  the  Peloponnesus.  Capo  d'Istria 
attempted  in  vain  to  bring  them  to  terms.  They  resisted  his 
arguments,  and  spurned  his  threats.  Several  of  them  were  ar- 
rested and  brought  to  trial.  Petros  himself,  who  attempted  to 
escape  from  Nauplia,  was  seized,  brought  back,  and,  in  violation 
of  an  express  article  of  the  Constitution  defining  the  privilege 
of  Senators,  was  put  under  arrest,  tried  on  several  charges,  and 
condemned  to  imprisonment.  Other  acts  of  persecution  against 
the  relatives  of  the  Bey  inflamed  the  passions  of  the  Maniotes 
still  more  vehemently,  and  lessened  still  more  the  number  of 
the  President's  adherents.  The  movements  in  Hydra  became 
more  threatening  and  dangerous.  The  malcontents  were  joined 
by  Mavrocordatos,  Miaoules,  Conduriotti,  and  other  patriots, 
and  a  deputation  consisting  of  the  three  iust  named  laid  their 


464  MODERN   GREECE. 

causes  of  complaint  before  the  residents  of  the  three  powers, 
and,  repairing  to  Nauplia,  assured  the  President  that  their 
minds  were  made  up,  even  for  the  extremity  of  civil  war,  un- 
less he  changed  his  system.  Their  mission  was  without  effect ; 
and  the  leaders  assembled  at  Hydra,  prepared  for  an  outbreak. 
Miaoules  seized  the  frigate  Hellas  and  several  other  vessels  at 
Poros.  Measures  were  taken  by  the  government  to  reduce  the 
insurrection ;  and  Miaoules,  seeing  that  the  small  fleet  at  his  dis- 
posal would  be  unable  to  resist  the  forces  the  President  was 
concentrating  against  him,  set  fire  to  the  Hellas,  which,  with 
twenty-eight  other  vessels,  soon  became  a  prey  to  the  flames. 
So  perished  the  American  ship  which  had  cost  the  Greeks  so 
dear.  Mavrocordatos,  Miaoules,  and  others  were  proclaimed 
traitors.  A  National  Assembly  was  called  to  meet  at  Argos ; 
but  the  Hydriotes,  who  still  maintained  a  cordial  understanding 
with  the  insurgents  of  Maina,  threatened  to  open  an  opposition 
congress  at  Hydra ;  and  the  passions  of  the  people  were  roused 
to  the  highest  pitch  by  these  unfortunate  and  extraordinary 
events,  when  a  catastrophe  as  tragical  as  unexpected  solved 
for  a  moment  the  complicated  difficulties  by  which  the  Presi- 
dent and  his  opponents  had  been  surrounding  themselves  and 
afflicting  their  country. 

During  the  proceedings  at  Hydra,  Constantine  Mavromi- 
chales,  the  brother,  and  George,  the  son  of  the  imprisoned  Bey, 
went  to  Nauplia  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  his  liberation. 
They  were  at  once  arrested  and  placed  under  the  surveillance 
of  the  police,  —  an  insult  that  touched  the  sensibilities  of  these 
proud  men  more  keenly  than  anything  they  had  before  en- 
countered. The  mother  of  Petros  and  Constantine,  a  woman 
of  ninety  years,  solicited  an  audience  of  the  Russian  Admiral 
Ricord,  who  was  then  in  the  Bay  of  Maina  with  his  squad- 
x'on,  and  implored  with  natural  and  touching  eloquence  his 
interposition  for  the  enlargement  of  her  imprisoned  sons  and 
grandson.  He  promised  compliance,  immediately  sailed  to  the 
harbor  of  Nauplia,  and  took  measures  to  redeem  his  promise. 
He    found   the    President    inflexible.      The    Bey    had    been 


GREECE   AFTER   THE  REVOLUTION.  465 

brought  to  engage  that  he  would  accept  his  own  liberation  aa 
an  act  of  grace,  and  would  at  once  withdraw  to  private  life 
and  seek  needful  repose  after  so  many  labors  and  sufferings ; 
but  when  the  President's  reply  was  communicated  to  him,  his 
passion  could  no  longer  be  restrained,  and  he  took  a  solemn 
oath  of  vengeance,  with  head  uncovered  and  hand  upraised  to 
Heaven,  against  "  the  tyrant  of  Greece  and  the  persecutor  of 
his  race."  This  was  on  the  6th  of  October.  Three  days  af- 
ter, as  the  President,  according  to  his  custom,  was  going  to  the 
Church  of  St.  Spiridion  —  the  patron  saint  of  Corfou  —  to  at- 
tend the  morning  service,  to  which  the  bells  of  the  city  were 
summoning  the  citizens,  he  perceived  Constantine  and  George 
Mavromichales,  accompanied  by  two  of  the  police,  and  appar- 
ently performing  their  devotions  at  the  gate  of  the  church.  In 
this  attitude  they  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  President.  As  he 
saw  them,  he  paused  a  moment,  and  then,  saluting  them,  ap- 
proached the  door.  George  stopped  the  way,  and  Constantine 
drew  a  pistol,  which  missed  its  aim.  As  Capo  d'Istria  turned, 
George  drew  a  pistol,  which  he  carried  hidden  under  his  cloak, 
and  shot  him  in  the  back  of  the  head.  He  fell  upon  the  ground, 
and  Constantine  then  stabbed  him  several  times  with  a  dagger. 
The  President  was  carried  immediately  into  the  church,  where^ 
a  few  moments  after,  he  expired  in  the  arms  of  a  German  offi- 
cer. Constantine  was  wounded  by  one  of  the  attendants  of  the 
President,  and  afterwards  torn  in  pieces  by  the  populace. 
George  took  refuge  in  the  home  of  the  French  resident,  who 
surrendered  him  to  the  authorities,  only  on  condition  that  he 
should  be  lawfully  tried.  After  ten  days'  imprisonment,  he  was 
brought  before  a  military  commission,  appointed  by  the  provis- 
ional government.  A  singular  circumstance  in  this  trial  was 
the  fact  that  Mr.  Masson,  an  English  gentleman  long  resident 
in  Greece,  a  lawyer  of  great  eloquence  and  immense  success 
in  the  courts  of  that  country,  undertook  the  defence,  and  man- 
aged it  with  consummate  skill.  This  gentleman  is  the  brother 
in-law  of  Dr.  Hill,  and  is  now  Professor  of  Greek  in  one  of  the 
colleges  of   Ireland,  —  one  of  the  few  Greek  professors  who 

VOL.    II.  30 


466  MODERN   GREECE. 

speak  Greek  like  the  Greeks.  The  circumstances  of  the  assas 
sination  were  too  clear,  and  the  act  itself  too  atrocious,  for  any 
eloquence  to  change  the  verdict  of  the  court.  The  assassin  was 
condemned  to  be  shot.  He  bore  his  fate  with  the  constancy 
that  marked  his  race  ;  and  his  father,  having  bestowed  his  last 
blessing,  witnessed  his  death  from  the  prison  where  he  had  so 
long  been  confined. 

So  fell  Capo  dTstria,  in  less  than  four  years  from  the  time 
when  he  assumed  the  government  of  Greece,  by  the  hand  of  an 
assassin,  not  certainly  without  his  own  fault  and  wrong.  But 
while  we  condemn  the  system  of  force  and  arbitrary  govern- 
ment which  he  was  endeavoring  to  introduce  into  Greece,  we 
must  not  withhold  the  execration  due  to  every  Brutus  in  his- 
tory, who,  concealing  the  purposes  of  private  vengeance  under 
the  pretext  of  patriotic  devotion,  in  slaying  the  person  of  the 
tyrant  stabs  the  heart  of  Liberty  herself.  Count  Capo  d'Istria 
had  been  bred  in  the  school  of  Russian  politics,  and  did  not 
well  understand  the  exaggerated  notions  of  freedom  which  his 
emancipated  countrymen  naturally  cherished,  after  so  long  a 
slavery  and  so  terrible  a  war.  His  ideas  of  the  indispensable 
necessity  of  order  and  law  to  a  flourishing  and  solid  civilization 
were  profound  and  statesmanlike  ;  but  when  he  attempted  to 
put  down  disorder  and  lawlessness  by  violations  of  law,  he 
committed  a  grievous  error,  which  was  grievously  atoned. 
His  arrival  was  hailed  with  enthusiasm  by  a  majority  of  his 
countrymen  ;  but  under  such  circumstances  it  is  impossible  for 
the  best  and  ablest  man  to  gratify  the  over-excited  hopes  of  a 
people,  or  to  fail  of  drawing  enmities  upon  himself  by  the 
inevitable  disappointment  of  visionary  expectations.  His  sys- 
tem of  regular  administration  crossed  the  pretensions  of  the 
primates  and  ancient  leading  families,  who  reluctantly  submitted 
to  equality  with  the  body  of  citizens  ;  and  he  was  not  upheld 
as  he  should  have  been  by  the  European  statesmen,  who  had 
their  own  plans.  His  honest  zeal  for  the  interests  of  Greece 
unhappily  caused  the  resignation  of  the  equally  honest  and 
zealous  Leopold ;  and  the  July  revolution  prevented  the  im- 


GREECE   AFTER   THE  REVOLUTION.  407 

media  e  substitution  of  another  in  his  place.  The  rebellion 
in  Hydra  and  Maina  was,  in  part  at  least,  his  fault ;  and  he 
lacked  wisdom  and  courage  to  retrace  his  steps  by  taking  meas- 
ures of  conciliation,  trusting  perhaps  that  the  maxims  and 
practices  of  Russian  despotism  would  carry  him  safely  through 
the  crisis  he  had  brought  upon  himself.  His  conduct  towards 
the  Mavromichales  family  seems  to  me  as  impolitic  as  it  was 
unjust ;  and  he  himself,  according  to  the  testimony  of  one  who 
knew  him  well,  and  was  with  him  to  the  end  of  his  life,  was 
conscious  of  the  hopeless  struggle  in  which  he  was  engaged 
with  his  infuriated  opponents,  and  foreboded  the  fate  which  im- 
pended over  him.  He  suspected  poison  ;  but,  as  Zinkeisen  well 
remarks,  "  In  this  he  mistook  the  character  of  the  people  he 
had  been  called  to  govern.  His  death  was  the  work  of  a  burn- 
ing desire  of  revenge,  which  can  drive  the  desperate  to  the 
most  dreadful  deeds,  but  will  seldom  make  use  of  uncertain 
means  or  the  help  of  others  for  the  attainment  of  its  end." 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  to  this  brief  sketch  of  the  four 
years'  career  of  President  Capo  d'Istria,  that  his  bloody  death 
failed  to  restore  peace  to  the  distracted  country,  after  the  first 
fearful  impression  of  so  terrible  a  catastrophe  had  worn  away. 
The  provisional  government  at  Nauplia  was  helpless,  and  the 
oppof  'tion  at  Hydra  daily  increased  in  strength.  Augustine 
Capo  d'Istria,  brother  of  the  murdered  President,  was  placed  at 
the  head  of  the  provisional  government,  —  a  measure  which  did 
not  tend  to  the  quiet  of  the  country,  since  it  was  naturally  sup- 
posed that  he  would  merely  attempt  to  carry  out  the  arbitrary 
system  of  his  brother.  He  had  been  employed  by  the  Presi- 
dent in  many  important  offices,  but  had  not  shown  much  char- 
acter or  capacity ;  yet  he  did  not  fully  go  along  with  the  Pres- 
ident's violent  politics  during  the  last  year,  and  was  not  so 
open  to  censure  as  Viaro  Capo  d'Istria.  Nothing  but  the 
bloody  death  of  his  brother  would  have  roused  a  moment's  at- 
tention to  Augustine  ;  and  it  was  hoped  that  he  would  at  least 
moderate  the  violence  of  the  government.  The  heads  of  the 
opposition,    struck   with    horror   bv   the   assassination   of  the 


468  MODERN   GREECE. 

President,  and  abating  somewhat  of  the  animosity  of  their  feel- 
ings, made  overtures  of  reconciliation,  and  promised  submis- 
sion to  the  decrees  of  a  national  congress.  These  overtures 
were  coldly  received.  Measures  were  taken  to  secure,  by  per- 
suasion and  intimidation,  a  majority  for  the  government  in  the 
Congress  to  assemble  at  Argos.  The  sixty  deputies  from 
Hydra  were  excluded.  One  of  the  Senators  declared  that  the 
election  was  the  result  of  force,  and  that  such  an  assembly 
could  be  regarded  only  as  a  meeting  of  creatures  of  the  gov- 
ernment. The  chiefs  of  the  Roumeliotes,  freely  chosen  in 
Western  Greece  as  deputies  to  the  Congress,  —  among  them 
the  most  distinguished  names  in  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  Nothi 
and  Costa  Botzares,  —  and  many  others,  made  their  solemn 
entry  into  Argos  on  the  8th  and  9th  of  November,  at  the  head 
of  a  numerous  retinue,  and  threatened,  if  the  government 
should  attempt  to  exclude  them,  to  rally  their  ancient  Pallecars, 
and  appeal  to  arms.  They  were  joined  by  Colettes,  one  of  the 
provisional  government,  and  other  Senators,  and  had  the  coun- 
tenance of  General  Church,  who  enjoyed  the  highest  consid- 
eration among  the  old  Capitani  of  Roumelia. 

The  session  was  opened  with  a  speech  by  Augustine  Capo 
dTstria,  on  the  19th  of  December.  The  Roumeliote  chiefs, 
who  had  been  prevented  from  taking  part  in  the  Congress  by 
the  rejection  of  their  propositions,  joined  in  a  counter-assembly, 
and  proceeded  to  appoint  a  provisional  government  of  their 
own.  A  conflict  of  arms  took  place  in  the  streets  of  Argos 
on  the  21st  of  December,  which  was  interrupted  on  the  22d 
V>y  a  deluge  of  rain,  recommenced  the  next  day  with  early 
dawn,  and  lasted  till  night,  with  no  decided  result.  The  shed- 
ding of  blood  was  stayed  only  by  the  interposition  of  the  resi- 
dents of  the  three  powers,  who,  accompanied  by  Sir  Stratford 
Canning,  just  arrived  at  Nauplia,  succeeded  in  putting  an 
end  to  hostilities  for  the  moment.  The  Roumeliote  deputies 
marched  off  to  Corinth,  and  so  ended  the  battle  of  the  con< 
gresses  at  Argos,  and  the  year  1831. 

The  opposition  assembly  met  at  Perachora,  a  place  north  o' 


GREECE  AFTER  THE  REVOLUTION.  469 

the  Isthmus,  and  immediately  organized  a  government.  They 
were  joined  by  leaders  and  men  from  other  quarters,  and  soon 
had  a  considerable  military  force  at  their  command.  Attempts 
were  made  by  the  representatives  of  the  mediating  powers  to 
bring  about  a  reconciliation,  but  in  vain.  Professor  Thiersch, 
who  had  been  for  some  time  in  Greece  and  enjoyed  the  confi- 
dence of  all,  was  employed  as  a  negotiator.  He  passed  from 
Argos  to  Perachora,  and  employed  all  his  powers  of  persua- 
sion, holding  many  interviews  with  the  chiefs  of  both  parties, 
to  prevent  hostilities.  But  the  Roumeliotes  refused  to  submit 
to  the  government  at  Nauplia ;  and  the  government  at  Nauplia, 
or  rather  the  President,  relying  upon  the  support  of  the  great 
powers,  refused  all  concession  to  their  demands.  Notwith- 
standing the  formal  recognition  of  the  administration  at  Nau- 
plia, as  the  only  legal  government,  by  the  representatives  of 
the  foreign  powers,  the  Roumeliote  army,  under  Colettes,  en- 
tered Argos  in  triumph  early  in  April ;  the  government  van- 
ished; Capo  dTstria  resigned,  and,  on  the  15th  of  April,  took 
passage,  with  the  dead  body  of  his  brother,  on  board  a  Russian 
vessel  for  Corfou.  After  a  short  stay  in  his  native  town  he 
embarked  for  Naples,  and  thence  travelled,  by  way  of  Con- 
stantinople and  Odessa,  to  St.  Petersburg.  So  ended  the  six 
months  of  anarchy  under  the  second  Capo  dTstria,  and  so 
came  about  the  final  settlement  of  the  affairs  of  Greece. 

King  Louis  of  Bavaria,  who  made  himself  a  little  notorious  a 
few  years  before  by  sacrificing  a  crown  for  a  pair  of  heels,  was 
always  a  liberal  friend  of  Greece.  He  alone  of  the  monarchs 
of  Europe  entered  into  her  cause  with  ardor,  and  with  no  selfish 
object  to  be  gained.  He  sent  liberal  supplies  of  money,  and 
despatched  Colonel  Heideck,  a  distinguished  officer,  to  aid  the 
Greeks  in  disciplining  their  troops.  Perhaps  this  Philhellenic 
zeal  grew  partly  out  of  the  passion  for  art  which  has  made  his 
name  memorable,  and  his  capital  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and 
attractive  cities  in  Europe.  His  collections  contain  some  of 
the  glorious  works  of  Grecian  art,  as  well  as  many  of  the  most 
precious  products  of  modern  painting ;  among  the  rest,  thosf 


-^70  MODERN   GREECE. 

fine  archaic  sculptures  found  among  the  ruins  of  the  temple  of 
Panhellenian  Zeus,  in  JEgina.  The  attention  of  the  plenipo- 
tentiaries was  called  to  the  court  of  Bavaria,  early  in  1832, 
by  these  circumstances,  and  by  the  fact  that  the  king  had 
three  or  four  sons,  besides  the  heir  to  his  throne,  available 
as  kings.  The  correspondence  was  long,  the  protocols  were 
endless.  Without  more  special  reference  to  details  and  dates, 
I  will  merely  state  the  leading  points  in  the  arrangement. 
First,  the  King  of  Bavaria  required  that  Greece  should  be 
made  not  a  principality,  but  a  kingdom,  and  that  the  elected 
sovereign  should  bear  the  title  of  King  and  Majesty ;  and  this 
m  as  agreed  to.  Some  enlargement  of  the  proposed  boundaries 
was  earnestly  desired.  Prince  Otho,  the  second  son  of  the 
king,  was  born  June  1,  1815 ;  and  it  became  necessary  to  fix 
the  period  of  his  majority,  and  to  determine  the  form  of  the 
regency,  until  that  period  should  arrive.  The  plenipotentiaries 
decided  upon  the  age  of  twenty ;  and  meanwhile  the  king  de- 
termined to  send  three  of  his  ablest  men,  Armansperg,  Von 
Maurer,  and  Heideck,  to  carry  on  the  government  in  the  name 
of  the  sovereign.  A  loan  of  sixty  millions  of  francs  was  to  be 
guaranteed  by  the  three  powers ;  and  an  army  of  thirty-five 
hundred  men  to  be  enrolled,  at  the  charge  of  the  Greeks, 
for  the  maintenance  of  oi'der  in  the  new  kingdom.  Greece 
was  to  form  a  monarchical  and  hereditary  state,  the  crown 
descending  to  the  sons  of  Otho,  according  to  the  law  of  primo- 
geniture,—  in  case  of  the  failure  of  heirs,  then  to  the  next 
brother  and  his  sons,  according  to  the  same  principle ;  with 
only  this  restriction,  that  the  crowns  of  Greece  and  Bavaria 
should  in  no  case  be  united.  The  troops  of  the  allies  then  in 
Greece  were  to  be  withdrawn  on  the  arrival  of  the  Bavarians. 
All  these,  and  many  other  details,  were  embodied  in  a  treaty, 
signed  in  London  on  the  7th  of  May,  and  ratified  a  few  weeks 
afterward.  A  National  Assembly  was  summoned,  and  met  in 
July  at  Pronoea,  one  of  the  suburbs  of  Nauplia,  a  place  of 
greater  security  than  Argos.  Among  the  members,  the  most 
distinguished  names  were  those  of  Alexander   Mavrocordatos 


ACCESSION   OF  KING   OTHO.  471 

and  Spiridon  Tricoupi.  On  the  8th  of  August,  1832,  Prince 
Otho  of  Bavaria  was  solemnly  acknowledged  as  King  of 
Greece.  As  soon  as  the  decree  to  this  effect  was  read,  the 
whole  assembly  rose,  and  with  one  voice  cried  out,  "  A  long 
life  and  a  happy  reign  to  Otho  the  First,  King  of  Greece." 
The  National  Assembly,  after  many  stormy  scenes,  which  still 
threatened  the  quiet  of  the  country,  adjourned  on  the  1st  of 
September.  A  deputation,  consisting  of  Admiral  Miaoules, 
General  Costa  Botzares,  and  Demetrius  Plapoutas,  was  sent  to 
Munich,  to  communicate  the  loyal  adhesion  of  the  Greek  na- 
tion to  the  elected  sovereign.  The  state  of  Greece  impera- 
tively required  the  presence  of  the  king  and  the  regents,  as 
the  only  means  of  putting  an  end  to  the  still  remaining  dis- 
cords, and  restoring  tranquillity  and  prosperity  to  the  long- 
agitated  country ;  but  there  were  so  many  formalities  to  be  at- 
tended to,  so  many  preparations  to  be  made,  so  many  points 
to  be  settled, —  among  others,  a  question  of  boundary  still  unad- 
justed with  the  Porte,  and  the  unfinished  arrangements  for  the 
loan, —  that  King  Otho  was  unable  to  commence  his  journey  un- 
til the  6th  of  December.  Travelling  through  Florence,  Rome, 
Naples,  and  everywhere  received  with  the  honors  due  to  his 
rank,  he  arrived  in  the  harbor  of  Nauplia  on  the  30th  of 
January,  1833,  and  landed  with  his  regency  on  the  6th  of 
February  on  the  soil  of  Greece,  amidst  the  enthusiastic  wel- 
comes of  the  Grecian  people.  "  A  happy  day,"  says  a  Greek 
writer,  u  in  which  the  Hellenic  nation,  after  three  hundred  and 
eighty  years  of  separation  from  their  royal  throne,  were  deemed 
worthy  to  enjoy  their  own  monarch,  and  saw  at  length,  with 
unspeakable  exultation  and  with  deep  gratitude  to  the  Most 
High,  their  longings  fulfilled,  their  patience  rewarded,  and  the 
agonies  of  four  centuries  crowned  with  triumph." 

Such  excited  hopes  could  not  fail  of  being  disappointed,  un- 
der the  most  favorable  auspices  ;  and  the  disappointment  is  not 
chargeable  wholly  to  the  king  and  his  ministers.  The  treaty 
by  which  he  was  placed  on  the  throne  contains  not  a  single 
word  about  th«?  constitutional  rights  of  the  Greek  nation.     In 


472  MODERN   GREECE. 

some  of  the  protocols,  indefinite  allusions  are  made  to  the  for- 
mation of  wise  political  institutions,  to  governing  by  good  laws, 
and  the  like.  The  King  of  Bavaria,  writing  to  the  assembly 
which  had  acknowledged  the  sovereignty  of  his  son,  and 
which,  before  Otho's  arrival,  had  taken  some  steps  towards 
the  framing  of  a  new  constitution,  requested  them  to  postpone 
further  action  on  this  subject,  until  they  could  have  the  per- 
sonal co-operation  of  the  king.  But,  I  repeat  it,  in  the  treaty 
itself  there  is  not  one  word  about  the  security  of  the  fundamen- 
tal rights  of  the  Greek  nation;  and  Otho  arrived  in  Greece 
with  a  regency  of  three  Bavarians  and  a  disciplined  army,  with 
powers  as  unlimited  as  the  despotism  of  Russia.  If  a  youth, 
not  yet  eighteen  years  old,  educated  in  the  Bavarian  school  of 
government,  with  three  Bavarian  statesmen,  sent  to  govern  a 
country  just  emerged  from  a  desperate  war,  yet  accustomed  to 
a  representative  government,  which,  with  all  the  faults  of  its 
imperfect  administration,  had  carried  the  people  triumphantly 
through  the  struggle,  —  sent  at  a  time  when  the  passions  of 
parties  were  running  high,  and  the  fires  of  civil  war  had  not  yet 
been  quenched, — when  the  assassination  of  the  President,  by 
members  of  a  family  whose  legal  rights  he  had  violated,  was 
still  fresh  in  the  memory  of  all, — failed  to  realize  ardent  hopes, 
and  if  vehement  passions  were  again  aroused,  the  blame  is 
not  to  be  thrown  chiefly  on  the  king,  but  in  great  part,  at 
least,  on  those  who  put  him  there.  The  regenc}r  entered  upon 
their  task  with  vigor,  and  met  the  multitudinous  difficulties  of 
their  position  with  greater  success  than  could  have  been  ex- 
pected. They  divided  the  kingdom  into  ten  Nomoi,  or  prov- 
inces ;  these  they  subdivided  into  forty,  since  reduced  to  thirty, 
Eparchies,  or  cantons ;  and  these  again  into  four  hundred 
and  fifty-three  Demoi,  or  communes;  under  the  presidency  of 
Nomarchs,  Eparchs,  and  Demarchs  respectively.  The  mili- 
tary and  naval  departments  were  reorganized,  not  without 
many  difficulties,  arising  from  the  resistance  of  the  irregular 
native  warriors  to  the  tactics  and  discipline,  as  well  as  the  uni- 
form, of  European  troops.     The  administration  of  justice  was 


ACCESSION   OF   KING   OTHO.  478 

organized  chiefly  by  Mr.  Von  Maurer,  a  gentleman  to  whom 
Greece  is  deeply  indebted  in  this  regard,  and  one  who,  since 
the  period  of  the  regency  expired,  has  been  the  foremost  states- 
man for  ability  and  integrity  in  the  kingdom  of  Bavaria. 
Public  instruction  and  ecclesiastical  affairs  also  occupied  his  at- 
tention ;  and  the  wise  and  liberal  provisions  made  in  both  of 
these  departments  have  been  most  useful  to  the  reviving  civil- 
ization of  the  country. 

The  discontent  with  the  government  of  the  regents  did 
not  limit  itself  to  words ;  local  movements  against  them  took 
place,  but  were  easily  suppressed.  A  conspiracy  was  at  length 
arranged,  at  the  head  of  which  were  Colocotrones  and  Pla- 
poutas.  They  were  arrested,  tried,  and  condemned  to  death, 
in  March,  1834,  but  pardoned  by  the  king.  These  were  not 
the  only  troubles  of  the  new  government.  A  division  took 
place  in  the  regency  itself,  which,  however,  produced  no  im- 
portant results  in  the  country,  and  the  subject  of  which  was 
referred  to  the  arbitration  of  the  King  of  Bavaria.  It  was  not 
until  1833  that  the  Turks  evacuated  Attica,  Euboea,  and 
Lamia,  which  had  been  occupied  by  them  since  the  cessation 
of  hostilities.  In  the  beginning  of  1835,  the  seat  of  govern- 
ment, which  had  up  to  this  time  continued  at  Nauplia,  was 
removed  to  Athens  ;  and  on  the  1st  of  June,  the  same  year, 
the  king,  having  attained  the  period  of  his  majority,  as  deter- 
mined by  the  plenipotentiaries  in  London,  assumed  the  reins 
of  government  and  addressed  the  Greek  people  in  a  proclama- 
tion full  of  devotion  to  his  adopted  country.  The  liveliest 
hopes  were  excited  anew  by  this  event,  and  exaggerated  antici- 
pations were  indulged  of  the  coming  glory  of  his  reign. 

In  the  following  year  the  king  was  married  to  the  Princess 
Amelia,  daughter  of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Oldenburg,  then  about 
seventeen  years  old,  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful  princesses 
in  Europe.  This  charming  person  had,  from  early  childhood, 
taken  the  deepest  interest  m  the  fortunes  of  Greece.  She  had 
carefully  read  the  accounts  of  the  war  of  independence  in  the 
journals,  and  had  even  formed  a  complete  history  of  the  period 


474  MODERN    GREECE. 

by  cutting  out  the  paragraphs  from  the  public  prints  and  ar- 
ranging them  in  order.  When  she  heard  of  the  election 
of  Otho,  —  being  then  only  fourteen  years  old,  —  she  ex- 
claimed, with  the  simplicity  of  that  attractive  age,  "  How  I 
should  like  to  be  the  queen  !  "  The  words  were  prophetic 
of  her  destiny.  In  one  of  his  long  visits  to  his  native  country 
the  king  met  the  princess  at  a  watering-place,  and  became 
acquainted  with  her.  As  a  very  natural  result  an  engage- 
ment ensued,  under  circumstances  of  personal  intimacy  and  re- 
ciprocal affection  quite  unusual  with  royal  personages.  They 
were  married  on  the  22d  of  November,  1836,  and,  having 
remained  in  Germany  about  two  months,  were  conveyed  from 
Trieste  to  Peiraeus  in  an  English  frigate,  arriving  on  the  14th 
of  February,  1837.  The  next  day  the  royal  pair  entered 
Athens  under  triumphal  arches  decorated  with  laurel  and  myr- 
tle branches,  amidst  the  huzzas  of  the  whole  population.  It 
was  among  the  interesting  incidents  of  the  occasion  that  the 
king  and  queen  were  welcomed  by  a  hymn  sung  by  the  chil- 
dren of  the  school  established  by  the  American  missionaries  ; 
and  the  first  crown  placed  on  the  head  of  their  Majesties  was 
a  crown  of  flowers  wreathed  by  the  pupils  of  Dr.  King. 

The  youthful  beauty,  grace,  and  enthusiasm  of  the  queen 
readily  won  the  love  of  her  subjects.  The  dream  of  her  child- 
hood was  now  realized;  she  who  had  sympathized  so  deeply 
with  the  struggles  of  this  oppressed  nation,  and  in  the  sim- 
plicity of  her  heart  had  breathed  her  maiden  wish  to  share  the 
fortunes  of  the  young  prince,  now  found  herself  raised  to  the 
throne  of  Greece,  —  the  object  of  love  and  hope  to  an  enthu- 
siastic and  excitable  people,  —  ruling  in  that  famous  Athens 
so  illustrious  in  human  history,  so  unfortunate  in  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  time  ;  so  long  oppressed  by  Romans,  Franks,  Turks, 
so  latev"  Held  by  turbaned  infidels,  and  now  the  regenerated 
capital  of  a  Christian  state.  She  has  now  reigned  seventeen 
years.  The  loveliness  of  early  youth  has  given  place  to  a 
splendid  and  queenly  beauty,  unequalled  on  any  throne  in  Eu- 
rope.    Her  countenance  is  still  fresh  with  the  rosy  hues  o' 


ACCESSION   OF  KING   OTHO.  475 

routh ;  Iiei  smile  is  gracious  and  enchanting.  With  health 
that  never  fails,  with  spirits  that  never  flag,  with  manners 
that  never  lose  their  charm,  —  the  best  rider  and  the  most 
indefatigable  dancer  in  all  Hellas,  —  wherever  she  appears,  the 
most  superb  woman,  be  the  others  who  they  may,  bearing  the 
fatigues  of  travelling  among  the  mountains  of  Greece  better 
than  any  man,  welcomed  with  dance  and  song  by  the  lovely 
village  maidens  on  the  slopes  of  Parnassus  and  the  valleys  of 
Boeotia,  sharing  in  their  rustic  feasts,  feeling  the  full  inspiration 
of  Hellenic  traditions  and  of  the  glorious  scenery  with  which 
they  are  associated, —  with  a  heart  as  daring  as  a  Pallecar's,  a 
courage  that  knows  no  fear,  —  the  Queen  of  Greece,  blamed 
as  she  may  have  been  by  politicians  and  diplomatists,  would 
adorn  the  throne  of  Constantinople,  on  which  her  subjects 
hope  to  place  her. 


LECTURE  XI. 

FIRST  YEARS   OF  OTHO'S  REIGN.  —  CONSTITUTION   OF  1844.  - 
GREECE    SINCE  1843. 

Notwithstanding  the  omission  of  securities  for  the  civil 
rights  of  the  Greeks  in  the  treaty  by  which  Otho  was  placed 
on  the  throne,  there  was  a  general  expectation  among  the 
people  that  a  new  constitution  would  be  formed,  —  in  other 
words,  that  the  government  of  Otho  would  be  a  constitutional 
government.  But  the  regency  found  enough  to  do  in  organ- 
izing the  country  and  adjusting  the  administration  of  the  dif- 
ferent departments,  and  perhaps  had  no  abstract  predilection 
for  representative  constitutions.  After  the  term  of  their  ad- 
ministration expired,  and  the  king  assumed  the  government 
himself,  the  forms  they  had  established  continued  in  force,  and 
the  king  conducted  the  administration  through  a  council  of 
state  and  a  ministry  appointed  by,  and  responsible  to,  himself. 
That  a  great  error  was  thus  committed  at  the  outset,  and  re- 
peated on  the  king's  reaching  his  majority,  is  now  quite  evi- 
dent. The  dissensions  of  the  Greeks  under  their  provisional 
governments,  the  factions  and  civil  contests  which  broke  out 
under  President  Capo  dTstria,  leading  to  his  murder  and  to 
the  overthrow  of  his  brother  and  successor,  showed  clearly 
enough  what  formidable  difficulties  the  new  ruler  would  have 
to  encounter,  and  what  chaotic  elements  he  would  be  required 
to  compose  into  order  and  harmony.  But  the  great  points 
of  the  security  of  person  and  property,  the  equality  of  citi- 
zens before  the  law,  the  equitable  apportionment  of  taxes, 
religious  toleration,  and  judicial  trial,  were  established  in  the 
first  Constitution  of  Epidaurus,  and  in  the  amended  Constitu« 


FIKST   YEARS   OF   OTHO'S   REIGN.  477 

tions  which  followed  it.  The  king  had  —  what  Capo  d'Istria 
had  not  —  a  strong  military  force,  officered  by  Europeans,  and 
amply  sufficient  to  maintain  order ;  and  he  might  have  called 
a  national  assembly,  with  a  good  degree  of  certainty  that  the 
public  peace  would  not  be  violated.  But  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  he  was  a  German  prince,  educated  in  German  ideas 
of  government ;  that  he  was  placed  on  the  throne  with  no 
obligation  laid  upon  him  to  call  a  national  assembly ;  that  the 
advisers  of  his  minority  had  made  no  advances  towards  a  con- 
stitution ;  and  that  the  machine  of  bureaucratic  administration 
was  in  working  order  when  he  took  it  into  his  own  hands. 
I  may  add,  that  the  influence  of  all  the  foreign  diplomatists, 
except  those  of  France  and  England,  was  decidedly  averse  to 
constitutional,  representative  government ;  that  of  Russia,  who 
had  made  the  first  motion  towards  the  settlement  of  Grecian 
affairs,  most  resolutely  so.  I  mention  these  things,  not  to  de- 
fend, but  to  explain,  the  course  of  the  king.  Had  a  practical 
and  liberal  statesman  from  England  been  placed  on  the  throne 
of  Greece  with  sufficient  support,  had  Leopold  not  felt  him- 
self compelled  to  abdicate,  or  had  Mavrocordatos  been  made 
king,  with  the  support  of  the  foreign  powers,  I  believe  that 
most  of  the  troubles  under  which  Greece  has  suffered  since 
the  accession  of  Otho  would  have  been  spared  her. 

The  presence  of  a  large  body  of  foreign  troops,  with  numer- 
ous officers  paid  from  the  treasury  of  Greece,  soon  began  to  ex- 
cite the  jealousy  and  alarm  of  the  native  soldiery.  They  felt 
that  a  swarm  of  hungry  adventurers  were  eating  the  bread 
which  should  have  been  theirs  and  their  children's ;  and  the 
whole  country,  except  the  persons  who  drew  their  support  from 
the  existing  order,  saw  with  indignation  the  loan,  the  annual 
interest  of  which  consumed  no  small  fraction  of  the  revenues  of 
the  country,  wasting  away  in  the  support  of  a  horde  of  foreign 
officials  and  the  costly  pomps  of  a  court.  The  Greeks  con- 
soled themselves  as  well  as  they  could  by  the  equivoque  of 
Bavarian  and  Barbarian ;  and  one  of  their  wittiest  dramatic 
authors  wrote  a  comedy  called    "  The  Fortune-Hunter. "  in 


478  MODERN   GREECE. 

which  the  Bavarian  adventurers  were  severely  lashed.  Then 
came  the  building  of  an  expensive  palace,  quite  out  of  propor- 
tion to  the  extent  and  resources  of  the  kingdom,  but  deemed 
necessary  by  the  old  King  of  Bavaria  to  maintain  the  splendoi 
of  the  throne.  The  demands  upon  the  treasury  soon  exhaust- 
ed the  loan,  and  yet  few  of  the  public  works  were  executed 
which  had  been  planned  by  the  regency. 

The  most  important,  nay,  an  indispensable  requisite  toward 
developing  the  resources  of  the  country,  was  to  facilitate  the 
intercourse  between  the  interior  and  the  seaports,  by  opening 
good  roads.  The  regency  gave  special  attention  to  this  subject, 
and  eaused  surveys  and  plans  to  be  made  for  seven  great 
roads,  connecting  the  most  important  points  throughout  the 
kingdom,  namely :  1.  From  Patras,  through  Sparta,  to  Mara- 
thonisi ;  2.  From  Navarino,  through  Megalopolis  and  Tripolitza, 
to  Corinth ;  3.  A  road  to  connect  with  one  from  Nauplia ; 
4.  From  Athens,  by  Thebes  and  Lebadeia,  to  Agrinium,  Vra- 
chori,  Ambracia,  and  Vonitza;  5.  From  Thebes  to  Chalcis;  6. 
From  Salona  to  Zeitoun,  or  Lamia;  7.  From  Agrinium  to  Meso- 
longi.  Nothing  could  have  been  wiser  than  this  measure.  If  it 
had  been  carried  into  effect,  it  would  have  given  an  immense' 
impulse  to  the  material  prosperity  of  Greece,  and  have  indefi- 
nitely enhanced  the  value  of  lands  all  over  the  country,  and 
among  the  rest  that  of  the  national  domain ;  not  only  making 
the  people  richer  by  stimulating  enterprise  to  an  incalculable 
degree,  but  placing  the  government  in  the  possession  of  means 
to  carry  forward,  on  a  still  grander  scale,  a  system  of  internal 
improvements.  But  the  work  was  not  done.  At  the  present 
moment,  the  only  roads  in  Greece  over  which  a  carriage  can 
pass,  excepting  three  or  four  of  a  few  miles  in  length  near 
Athens,  are  one  from  Athens  to  Thebes,  one  of  six  miles  across 
the  Isthmus  of  Corinth,  one  from  Athens  to  Megara,  and  one 
from  Argos  to  Nauplia.  The  last  was  built  by  Count  Capo 
d'Istria,  and  was  an  excellent  road ;  but  it  has  been  allowed 
to  fall  into  decay,  and  the  traveller  must  be  on  his  guard  no* 
to  fall  through  the  holes  in  the  bridges. 


10RST   YEARS   OF   OTHO'S  REIGN.  479 

The  estates  of  the  Turks,  after  they  had  withdrawn  from  the 
country,  became  the  national  domain.  These,  compared  with 
the  whole  country,  are  very  extensive  ;  and  when  the  govern- 
ment was  established,  large  bodies  of  Greeks  in  the  provinces 
still  under  Turkey  were  solicitous  to  emigrate,  and  settle  on 
the  vacant  lands.  A  wise  policy  would  have  encouraged  this 
disposition,  by  enabling  the  new-comers  to  acquire  property 
in  land  on  easy  terms.  But  no;  except  in  the  case  of  a  few 
limited  sales,  and  some  donations  to  friends  of  the  court,  — 
mostly  foreigners,  —  the  administration  would  not  part  with  the 
national  property,  forgetting  or  never  knowing  that  the  true 
wealth  of  a  government  consists  in  the  number  and  prosperity 
of  its  subjects.  The  public  lands  have  always  been  farmed  out, 
the  tenants  paying  to  the  'government  twenty  per  cent  of  the 
products,  —  a  wretched  system,  because,  in  the  first  place,  it 
renders  it  the  interest  of  the  tenant  for  the  time  being  to  get  as 
much  as  possible,  and  to  make  no  permanent  improvements ; 
and  in  the  next  place,  because  the  collection  of  these  taxes  in 
kind  is  a  most  wasteful  operation,  causing  not  only  great  losses 
to  the  cultivators,  but  still  greater,  perhaps,  to  the  government. 
Another  important  branch  of  the  public  revenue  —  the  tenth 
of  the  products  of  all  private  lands  —  is  collected  in  the  same 
ruinous  manner.  The  consequence  of  this  state  of  things  is 
that  agriculture  is  in  a  miserably  low  condition  all  over 
Greece ;  while  three  fourths  of  the  people  must  of  necessity 
subsist  by  the  cultivation  of  the  soil.  They  can  live  by  it,  but 
that  is  nearly  all.  They  cannot  send  their  products  to  market, 
over  the  mountains,  on^he  backs  of  mules,  without  its  costing 
them  almost  the  whole  value  of  the  load.  They  cannot,  there- 
fore, surround  themselves  with  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of 
life,  procured  by  foreign  exchanges.  They  live  on  the  products 
•tf  their  lands.  They  have  no  furniture,  except  the  few  rude 
articles  made  by  their  own  hands ;  and  few  clothes,  except  the 
sheep-skin  dresses  they  prepare  themselves,  and  the  coarse 
woollen  fabrics,  spun  with  hand-spindles,  exactly  like  those  de- 
icribed  by  Homer,  and  woven  in  looms  equally  simple  and  rude. 


480  MODERN   GREECE. 

Greece  had  one  important  defence  against  the  centralizing 
and  despotic  system  adopted  by  the  Bavarians,  —  her  smal 
municipal  organizations,  remaining  from  the  earliest  times,  and 
not  overthrown  even  by  the  Turks.  These  chose  their  local 
magistrates,  and  controlled  a  variety  of  local  affairs,  after  the 
manner  of  the  town  and  parish  organizations  in  New  England. 
The  municipalities  presented  points  of  resistance  to  the  en- 
croachments of  autocracy,  which  neither  the  king's  Bavarian 
ministers,  nor  those  Greeks  who  had  been  persuaded  or  seduced 
to  abandon  the  true  interests  of  the  country,  were  able  to  over 
come. 

The  government  of  King  Otho,  though  it  restored  peace  to 
the  country,  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  practically  good  one. 
"When  we  consider  the  inevitable  corruptions  and  peculations 
of  the  agents  of  such  an  administration,  it  is  not  surprising 
that  discontent  speedily  broke  out  very  extensively.  The 
people  rightly  felt  that  they  were  defrauded  of  their  just  con- 
trol over  their  own  affairs ;  that  the  government  had  most  of 
the  features  of  a  despotism,  though  not  a  violent  one ;  that 
their  resources,  instead  of  being  expended  for  the  improvement 
of  the  country,  went  to  the  support  of  a  numerous  body  of 
officials,  most  of  whom  were  dishonest ;  while  the  absence  of  a 
system  of  accountability  and  publicity  deprived  them  of  any 
legal  remedy.  In  short,  it  was  the  universal  feeling  among 
the  people,  that  despotism  and  corruption  were  fast  undoing 
the  work  which  they  had  suffered  so  long  and  deeply  to  ac- 
complish. 

So  things  went  on  for  ten  years  •from  the  time  of  the 
king's  accession  to  the  throne.  England  and  France,  in  a 
more  liberal  spirit  than  had  actuated  them  at  the  outset,  es- 
pecially under  the  influence  of  Lord  Aberdeen  and  M.  Guizot, 
endeavored  to  procure  the  recognition  of  popular  rights  by  the 
government,  advising  the  king  to  grant  the  long-delayed  Con- 
stitution. But,  unfortunately  for  the  reputation  and  dignity  of 
the  king,  other  counsels  prevailed  until  the  year  1843.  The 
dissatisfaction  of  the  country  had  then  reached  its  height.    The 


CONSTITUTION   OF   1844.  481 

loan  had  been  expended,  and  other  large  debts  contracted. 
The  annual  expenditure  had  greatly  exceeded  the  revenue,  the 
excess  in  seven  years  having  amounted  to  about  thirty  millions 
of  drachmas,  or  five  millions  of  dollars,  and  national  bank- 
ruptcy stared  them  in  the  face.  A  universal  determination 
was  formed  to  have  a  Constitution,  at  all  events,  while  there 
was  an  equally  general  purpose  not  to  violate  the  respect  due 
to  their  Majesties.  The  people  then,  as  now,  separated  the 
persons  of  the  king  and  queen  from  the  policy  of  their  govern- 
ment. Combinations  and  arrangements  were  entered  into 
among  the  civil  and  military  authorities  to  effect  the  changes 
called  for  by  the  country,  but  to  use  no  more  force  than  was 
necessary  for  the  purpose.  Foreign  residents  were  so  im- 
pressed with  the  state  of  things,  that  they  anticipated  the 
speedy  dethronement  of  the  king ;  and  in  fact  an  attack  on 
General  Kalergi  —  then  holding  the  office  of  Inspector  of 
Cavalry,  well  known  as  an  opponent  of  the  Bavarian  system, 
and  very  popular  with  the  army  —  excited  no  little  indigna- 
tion against  the  Bavarians,  who  had  dictated  it. 

Kalergi  was  still  a  young  man.  He  is  descended  from  a 
Cretan  family  of  great  distinction.  When  the  Greeks  took  up 
arms,  he  was  a  student  in  Germany,  and  only  fifteen  years  old ; 
but  he  resolved  to  accompany  his  two  older  brothers  in  fight- 
ing for  the  liberties  of  his  country.  He  exhibited  at  once,  not 
only  the  most  undaunted  courage,  but  the  highest  qualities  of  a 
military  leader.  He  commanded  a  division  in  the  attack  upon 
the  Turkish  army  which  besieged  Athens  in  1827  ;  and  in  the 
battle  of  the  6th  of  May  he  had  a  leg  broken  by  a  rifle-ball, 
and  received  a  sabre-cut  in  the  arm.  With  the  other  pris- 
oners, he  was  ordered  to  be  beheaded  the  next  morning,  and 
being  unable  to  walk,  was  actually  carried  to  the  place  of  exe- 
cution on  the  back  of  an  Albanian.  When  the  order  was  is- 
sued for  his  decapitation,  he  said  to  the  Albanian  who  had 
made  him  prisoner,  that  he  would  give  a  hundred  thousand 
piasters  —  between  four  and  five  thousand  dollars  —  for  his 
ransom.     The  Albanian  claimed  him  as  his  property,  and  the 

VOL.    II.  31 


482  MODERN   GREECE. 

Pacha  was  obliged  to  yield ;  but  in  order  to  leave  a  pleasant 
memorial  of  the  interview,  before  dismissing  him  he  cut  off 
one  of  his  ears.  This  gallant  young  man  —  who  then  lay  in 
the  power  of  the  Turks,  with  a  broken  leg,  a  sabred  arm,  and 
an  ear  slit  off — was  destined  to  be  the  leader  in  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  scenes  of  modern  times,  and  is  now  a  cabinet 
minister  at  the  head  of  the  department  of  war.  He  was 
equally  distinguished  in  the  exploits  of  peace.  In  the  year 
1826,  two  young  chiefs,  of  the  old  and  powerful  family  of  No- 
taras,  John  and  Panayotoki,  cousins,  were  in  love  with  a 
young  heiress  and  her  currant  crops,  and  carried  their  rivalry 
so  far  as  to  involve  the  Isthmus  of  Corinth,  where  the  cur- 
rants and  the  lady  were,  in  a  civil  war.  While  the  power- 
ful chieftain  Colocotrones  espoused  one  side  of  the  quarrel,  and 
Zaines,  the  President  of  the  National  Assembly,  the  other, 
the  gallant  Kalergi,  with  the  full  consent  of  the  lady,  ended  the 
war  without  bloodshed  by  espousing  the  heiress  himself. 

Some  intimation  of  the  intended  movement  reached  the 
government,  and  several  arrests  were  ordered  on  the  night 
of  the  14th  of  September,  1843.  This  action  was  seized  upon 
as  the  occasion  or  pretext  for  the  long-meditated  revolution. 
Kalergi  hastily  summoned  the  officers,  and  put  the  garrison  in 
motion,  amidst  loud  cries  of  ZrjTO)  to  a-vvrayfia,  —  "  Long  life 
to  the  Constitution ! "  —  which  were  responded  to  by  the  large 
bodies  of  citizens  now  rapidly  gathering  from  every  quarter  of 
the  city.  Kalergi  marched  his  troops,  accompanied  by  the  citi- 
zens, to  the  square  in  front  of  the  palace.  In  a  few  moments 
the  artillery  sent  for  by  the  king  appeared,  and,  to  his  astonish- 
ment and  dismay,  the  guns  were  pointed  to  the  palace,  and  the 
artillerymen  cried  out,  "  Long  life  to  the  Constitution  !  "  The 
king,  appearing  at  the  window,  demanded  the  cause  of  the  dis- 
urbance  and  of  this  parade  of  the  garrison.  Kalergi  replied, 
so  as  to  be  heard  by  the  whole  multitude,  "  The  people  of 
Greece  and  the  army  desire  that  your  Majesty  will  redeem 
the  promise  that  the  country  should  be  governed  constitution- 
ally."    At  this  moment  one  of  the  king's  Bavarian  attendants 


CONSTITUTION   OF   1844.  483 

levelled  a  musket  at  the  intrepid  speaker.  The  king  calmly 
and  wisely  struck  it  up.  Had  a  single  shot  been  fired  from 
the  palace,  —  as  I  have  been  told  by  those  who  witnessed  the 
scene,  —  not  one  stone  would  have  been  left  upon  another. 
The  prudence  of  the  king  saved  the  lives  of  those  who  were 
with  him,  perhaps  his  own,  —  certainly  the  longer  existence  of 
his  government.  He  then  ordered  the  troops  to  retire  to  their 
quarters,  promising  to  consult  with  the  ministers,  the  Council 
of  State,  and  the  ambassadors  of  the  three  protecting  powers. 
But  Kalergi  replied  that  "neither  the  garrison  of  Athens 
nor  the  people  would  quit  the  spot  until  his  Majesty's  decision 
should  be  made  known."  At  this  moment  Captain  Hess,  a 
Bavarian  officer,  came  forward  and  said,  "  General  Kalergi, 
this  is  not  the  manner  in  which  it  is  becoming  for  you  to  speak 
to  his  Majesty."  Kalergi,  in  no  very  favorable  mood  to  be 
lectured  on  manners,  replied,  "  Draw  in  your  head,  sir ;  you 
and  such  as  you  have  brought  the  king  and  country  into  the 
present  unfortunate  condition."  Captain  Hess  did  draw  in 
his  head,  and  never  showed  it  afterwards  in  Greece  ;  but  it 
was  no  great  loss. 

The  Council  of  State,  meantime,  had  been  discussing  the 
great  question,  what  was  to  be  done  in  this  emergency.  They 
were  not  unanimous  ;  but  the  constitutional  party,  led  by  Gen- 
eral Church,  Londos,  and  Rhegas  Palamedes,  were  in  the  ma- 
jority, and  at  last  all  united  in  drawing  up  a  proclamation,  a 
list  of  a  new  ministry  to  be  recommended  to  the  king,  and  an 
address  advising  his  Majesty  to  call  a  national  assembly  to 
prepare  a  constitution.  Before  the  king's  answer  was  given, 
the  carriages  of  the  foreign  ministers  appeared  at  the  gates 
of  the  palace,  but  were  politely  and  firmly  refused  admittance. 
All  submitted  quietly  except  the  Minister  of  Prussia,  who 
persisted,  with  harsh  and  disrespectful  language,  to  demand 
admittance  to  his  Majesty.  Kalergi,  getting  out  of  patience, 
finished  the  scene  by  telling  the  minister  that  "  his  advice  had 
generally  been  unfortunate,  and  he  was  afraid  the  king  had 
had  too  much  of  it  lately."     Upon  this  the  diplomatic  gentle- 


184  MODERN   GREECE. 

men  stepped  into  their  carriages,  and  drove  off,  amidst  the 
laughter  of  the  people,  who  maintained  the  most  perfect  good- 
humor  through  the  whole  affair.  The  king  signed  the  ordi- 
nances appointing  a  new  ministry  and  convoking  a  national 
assembly.  The  troops,  having  been  thirteen  hours  under 
arms,  marched  back  to  their  barracks ;  the  citizens  dispersed 
to  their  houses ;  the  business  of  the  city  was  not  interrupted  for 
an  hour ;  the  courts  sat  without  the  slightest  disturbance ;  and 
no  tumults  took  place  in  the  country.  A  chief,  named  Grizio- 
tes,  who  was  on  his  way  from  Eubcea  to  the  capital,  with  more 
than  a  thousand  irregular  troops,  hearing  that  the  object  had 
been  accomplished,  enjoined  his  followers  to  return  to  their 
homes,  and  asked  leave  "  to  come  alone  to  obey  the  law,  and 
not  to  give  it."  The  next  night  the  city  was  illuminated,  and 
great  rejoicings  celebrated  the  event,  without  a  single  outbreak 
of  violence.  In  the  same  moderate  spirit  of  tranquil  triumph 
the  great  constitutional  victory  was  commemorated  all  over  the 
country ;  and  the  15th  of  September  was  thenceforth  added  to 
the  national  festivals.  This  revolution  was  accomplished  with- 
out shedding  a  drop  of  blood,  without  even  disturbing  the 
quiet  of  a  single  citizen,  except  that  of  a  person  named  Tzinos, 
who  ha-I  ir.ade  himself  odious  as  chief  of  police  by  his  cruelties, 
having  caused  several  persons  to  be  put  to  the  torture.  He 
took  shelter  in  the  palace,  but  was  given  up  and  merely  sent 
away  to  one  of  the  islands  ;  and  the  only  uneasiness  manifested 
anywhere  was  the  opposition  made  by  that  island  —  Tenos  — 
to  receiving  such  a  scoundrel  on  its  shores. 

The  king  and  queen  drove  out  the  next  day  as  usual,  and 
were  cheered  by  the  people.  The  new  ministry  entered  upon 
their  functions  ;  the  Bavarians  were  dismissed,  and  many  of 
them  took  the  Austrian  steamer  for  home  in  less  than  a  week. 
The  National  Assembly  was  convoked  for  the  13th  of  Novem- 
ber, the  members  to  be  chosen  according  to  the  electoral  law 
n  force  during  the  presidency  of  Capo  dTstria.  Lord  Aber- 
leen  wrote  a  long  letter  to  the  British  Minister,  Sir  Edmunc 
Lyons,  communicating  the  views  of  the  British  government, 


CONSTITUTION   OF   1844.  485 

and  a  summary  of  the  chief  points  they  thought  should  be  em- 
bodied in  the  constitution  about  to  be  established.  This  de- 
spatch was  confidentially  communicated  to  the  king,  who  took 
several  opportunities  of  assuring  Sir  Edmund  "that  he  sin- 
cerely embraced  the  constitutional  system  of  government."  It 
may  be  mentioned  as  one  of  the  singular  features  of  this  revo 
lution,  that  the  whole  amount  of  the  extraordinary  expense 
was  only  seven  thousand  dollars. 

The  elections  resulted  most  satisfactorily.  The  best  men, 
almost  without  exception,  were  chosen.  The  Assembly  was 
opened  on  the  20th  of  November  by  the  king  in  person,  accom- 
panied by  his  ministers,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  diplomatic 
body,  all  of  whom  attended  except  the  Russian  legation.  In 
fact,  Russia  had  totally  withheld  her  sanction  from  consti- 
tutional proceedings,  not  only  <*t  Athens,  but  through  her  min- 
isters at  the  other  courts.  The  king's  speech  was  conceived  in 
a  most  excellent  spirit,  and  raised  his  popularity  to  the  highest 
point ;  and  the  marks  of  affection  and  respect  everywhere  ac- 
corded to  their  Majesties,  then  and  whenever  they  appeared 
in  public,  deeply  impressed  them.  The  Assembly,  consisting 
of  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  members,  was  organized  by 
choosing  as  President,  almost  by  acclamation,  Mr.  Panoutsos 
Notaras,  an  eminent  patriot,  who  took  arms  at  the  opening  of 
the  revolution,  being  then  eighty-four  years  old ;  who  had 
been  a  member  of  all  the  preceding  national  assemblies ;  who 
now,  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and  seven,  had  been  chosen  as 
member  from  his  native  province,  Corinth,  and  elected  Pres- 
ident of  the  Constitutional  Assembly.  Four  vice-presidents 
were  appointed,  —  Mavrocordatos,  Metaxas,  Colettes,  and  Lon- 
dos.  Sir  Edmund  Lyons,  in  a  despatch  of  December  6,  says : 
*  The  veteran  President,  the  vice-presidents,  and  the  secreta- 
ries of  the  National  Assembly  dined  with  me  yesterday,  and 
they  were  in  high  good  humor,  and  in  confident  hope  of  bring- 
ing the  Assembly  to  a  satisfactory  close  within  a  month." 

I  doubt  if  any  constitutional   assembly  ever  showed  more 
abilitv  or  patriotism,  or  a  more  earnest  and  conscientious  deter 


486  MODERN   GREECE. 

mination  to  decide  honestly  upon  the  great  questions  laid  before 
them,  than  did  that  Assembly  of  1843  in  Athens.  The  rec- 
ord of  their  discussions  would  compare  very  favorably  with  the 
debates  of  any  other  assembly  of  which  I  have  any  knowledge  ; 
and  the  manners  of  the  deputies,  as  described  by  those  who  had 
the  best  opportunity  of  observing  them,  the  absence  of  party 
spirit,  and  the  singleness  of  their  aim  for  the  country's  good, 
place  them,  in  true  dignity  of  character  and  patriotism  of  mo- 
tive, on  a  level  with  the  very  best  men  ever  called  to  so  high  a 
trust  and  function.  The  history  of  this  convention  is  one  of 
the  most  instructive  and  remarkable  chapters  in  the  annals  of 
that  people ;  and  I  would  gladly  recommend  it  to  the  perusal 
of  any  one  who  questions  whether  the  Greek  nation  is  fitted 
to  live  under  a  constitutional  government.  I  think  that  the 
reader  would  admit  that  they  are  better  fitted  to  live  under  a 
constitution  than  under  a  barbarocracy,  as  they  called  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  irresponsible  camarilla  of  Bavaria.  The  draft 
of  the  Constitution  was  submitted  to  the  Assembly  on  January 
15,  and,  after  being  carefully  discussed,  was  laid  before  the 
king  on  the  4th  of  March.  It  was  thoroughly  studied  by  his 
Majesty,  and  returned  by  him  with  the  suggestion  of  a  few 
changes.  On  the  16th  of  March,  1844,  to  the  great  joy  of  the 
nation,  it  was  formally  accepted  by  the  king.  A  deputation 
immediately  waited  upon  his  Majesty,  and  expressed,  in  fervid 
and  eloquent  language,  the  thanks  and  gratitude  of  the  As- 
sembly. 

The  Constitution  embodies  all  the  securities  which  were  in- 
corporated into  the  earlier  forms,  with  such  other  principles  as 
the  actual  state  of  the  country  made  necessary.  The  settle- 
ment of  Otho  and  his  family  on  the  throne  is  confirmed.  The 
Oriental  Church  is  the  established  religion,  but  all  other  re- 
ligions are  tolerated.  Proselyting  and  attacks  upon  the  estab« 
lished  religion  are  forbidden.  No  titles  of  nobility  are  to  be 
created.  All  Greeks  are  declared  equal  in  the  eye  of  the  law, 
and  personal  liberty  is  inviolable.  The  ninth  article  declares 
that,  in   Greece,  man  is  not  bought  and  sold.     A    serf  or  a 


CONSTITUTION   OF   1844.  487 

slave,  whatever  may  be  his  nationality  or  his  religion,  is  free 
from  the  moment  that  he  sets  foot  on  Hellenic  ground.  The 
press  is  free,  and  a  censorship  cannot  be  established.  Public 
instruction  is  at  the  charge  of  the  state.  Torture  and  confis- 
cation cannot  be  introduced,  and  the  secrecy  of  letters  is  invic 
lable.  The  legislative  power  is  divided  between  the  king,  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies,  called  Boule,  and  the  Senate,  or  Gerou- 
sia;  but  all  money  bills  must  originate  with  the  deputies.  The 
king  has  the  usual  powers,  under  the  usual  restrictions,  of  a 
constitutional  monarch.  His  person  is  inviolable,  but  his 
ministers  may  be  impeached  for  maladministration.  He  is  the 
executive  magistrate.  In  case  of  the  failure  of  heirs  and  the 
vacancy  of  the  throne,  arrangement  is  made  for  the  provisional 
appointment  of  a  regent,  and  then  for  the  election  of  a  king 
by  vote  of  the  Assembly.  The  deputies  are  elected  for  three 
years.  No  one  can  be  elected  who  has  not  reached  the  age  of 
thirty  years.  The  number  of  deputies  is  in  such  proportion  to 
the  population  as  may  be  fixed  by  law,  but  never  to  be  less 
than  eighty.  The  senators  are  appointed  by  the  king  for  life. 
A  considerable  number  of  conditions  and  qualifications  are  pre- 
scribed for'  this  office,  for  which  the  legal  age  is  forty.  The 
minimum  number  of  senators  is  twenty-seven  ;  but  the  king 
may,  when  he  sees  fit,  raise  it  to  one  half  the  number  of  the 
deputies.  The  princes  of  the  blood  and  the  heir  presumptive 
of  the  crown  are  senators  by  right,  as  soon  as  they  shall  have 
completed  their  eighteenth  year  ;  but  they  are  to  have  no  voice 
in  the  deliberations  until  they  have  completed  their  twenty-fifth 
year.  The  ministers  are  appointed  by  the  king,  with  the  usual 
responsibilities.  Justice  is  administered  by  judges  appointed 
by  the  king  for  life.  Arguments  before  the  tribunals  are  to  be 
public,  unless  such  publicity  be  deemed  b*r  the  court  dangerous 
to  morals  or  public  order.  A  judge  can  accept  no  salaried 
employment,  except  that  of  Professor  in  the  University.  Jury 
trial  is  preserved,  without  excepting  from  it  either  political 
crimes  or  offences  of  the  press.  No  oath  can  be  exacted  with- 
out a  law  which  prescribes  and  determines  it.     All  cases  of 


4:88  MODERN   GREECE. 

conflicting  jurisdiction  shall  be  adjudged  by  the  Areopagus, 
which  is  the  supreme  court,  or  court  of  final  appeal. 

I  have  thus  selected  a  few  of  the  principal  provisions  of  the 
Constitution  of  Greece,  established  by  the  cordial  co-operation 
of  the  king  and  people  in  1844,  and  now  the  fundamental  law 
of  the  land. 

It  is  ten  years  since  this  representative  Constitution  went  into 
effect.  It  has  not  yet  produced  all  the  good  that  was  expected 
from  it,  simply  because  the  needed  reforms  have  not  yet  been 
made.  The  wretched  system  of  taxation  still  remains  in  force  ; 
roads  are  still  unbuilt  or  neglected  ;  agriculture  is  still  ex- 
ceedingly imperfect.  Although  the  population  has  increased 
from  six  or  seven  hundred  thousand  to  nearly  a  million,  the 
public  lands  are  still  extensively  unsettled,  because  the  policy 
of  the  government  continues  to  be  short-sighted  and  unwise. 
The  country  is  embarrassed  with  debt,  while  it  needs  a  large 
accession  of  capital.  In  short,  it  needs  the  application  of  that 
broad  practical  sense  which  distinguishes  the  English  race. 
How  much  of  the  blame  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  king,  how 
much  to  the  people,  and  how  much  to  the  influence  of  neigh- 
boring powers  hostile  to  popular  progress,  it  would  be  difficult 
to  decide.  There  are  many  corrupt  men  in  Greece,  who  lend 
themselves  willingly  to  any  scheme  which  will  put  money 
into  their  pockets,  —  men  who  withstood  the  trials  of  war,  but 
have  been  unable  to  resist  the  temptations  of  poverty.  The 
king  and  queen,  accustomed  to  govern  absolutely,  perhaps 
have  not  found  it  easy  to  accommodate  themselves  to  the  posi- 
tion of  constitutional  rulers.  I  have  known  cases  in  which  the 
families  of  opposition  senators  have  been  coldly  received  at 
the  palace  ;  political  opposition  to  the  government  being  looked 
upon  as  personal  hostility  to  the  sovereign.  This  is  con- 
trary to  the  spirit  of  a  constitutional  government,  though  not 
quite  unknown  in  countries  now  foremost  in  condemning  the 
Greeks.  What  did  Louis  Napoleon  do  with  those  politicians 
who  opposed  him,  while  he  was  President  of  the  French  Re- 
public?   The  castle  of  Vincennes  and  the  penal  colonies  can 


GREECE   SINCE   1843.  489 

answer  that  question;  for  the  very  last  legislative  movement  of 
the  Chamber  was  from  the  national  palace  to  the  dungeon. 

Since  the  inauguration  of  the  Constitution,  two  or  three  dis- 
turbing events  have  taken  place.  In  1850  the  port  of  Peirasus 
was  blockaded  by  an  English  squadron,  to  compel  the  govern- 
ment to  make  compensation  for  damages  done  to  the  property 
of  certain  British  subjects.  The  minister  and  his  family  left 
Athens,  and  remained  for  several  months  on  board  of  the  fleet. 
Great  damage  was  done  to  Greek  commerce  by  this  harsh 
measure  ;  and  Lord  Palmerston,  who  directed  it,  was  not  only 
severely  censured  at  home,  but  made  his  name  detested  in 
Greece  and  throughout  the  East.  The  government  at  last 
paid  the  money  under  compulsion.  I  am  not  sufficiently  famil- 
iar with  the  facts  to  form  an  opinion  upon  the  justice  of  the  pro- 
ceeding ;  but  I  know  that  not  only  did  the  Greek  government 
feel  themselves  aggrieved,  but  that  the  transaction  placed  the 
excellent  minister  and  his  amiable  and  accomplished  family  in 
unpleasant  relations  with  the  court,  and  naturally  diminished 
the  influence  which  so  honorable  and  liberal  a  man — having 
so  many  scholarly  sympathies  with  Greece,  and  so  earnest  a 
desire  to  promote  the  best  interests  of  the  country  —  ought  to 
have  exercised  as  the  representative  of  the  British  nation. 
These  troubles  were  not  adjusted  until  last  year ;  when  the 
queen,  sending  for  the  ladies  of  Mr.  Wyse's  family,  received 
them  with  great  cordiality,  and  in  an  hour's  informal  conver- 
sation completely  restored  the  former  friendly  relations. 

The  next  unfortunate  transaction  was  with  our  countryman 
Dr.  King,  the  well-known  American  missionary  in  Greece. 
This  gentleman,  a  man  of  the  most  rigid  virtue,  was  one  of 
the  earliest  friends  of  liberated  Greece,  having  gone  thither  in 
1828  as  one  of  the  agents  of  the  Philhellenes,  and  remained  in 
the  country  ever  since.  In  1830  he  bought  lands  in  Athens, 
portions  of  which,  when  the  government  removed  from  Nau- 
plia  to  that  city,  were  taken  for  public  uses ;  and  his  just  claims 
for  compensation,  under  one  pretext  or  another,  were  post- 
poned.    This  was  one  branch  of  the  unfortunate  controversy ; 


490  MODERN   GREECE. 

the  second  was  a  theological  difficulty.  For  some  reason  or 
other  a  portion  of  the  Greek  Church  became  hostile  to  Dr 
King.  Attacks  upon  him  from  time  to  time  appeared  from  the 
press.  He  was  charged  with  attempting  to  make  proselytes,  and 
with  speaking  ill  of  the  established  Church,  and  the  popular 
passions  began  to  be  violently  moved  against  him.  A  series  of 
infamous  lies  was  published  in  the  "  Aion,"  by  a  perjured  mis- 
creant named  Simonides,  who  was  convicted  not  long  since  of 
forging  manuscripts,  which  he  offered  for  sale,  and  whose  char- 
acter was  stained  by  every  vice  that  Oriental  corruption  ever 
generated.  This  wretch  accused  Dr.  King  of  practising  at  his 
own  house  the  most  obscene  and  blasphemous  rites,  and  of 
throwing  contempt  and  ridicule  upon  the  doctrines  and  cere- 
monies of  the  Church.  Let  me  say  at  the  outset,  that,  having 
heard  all  the  facts  on  the  spot,  and  having  read  all  the  docu- 
ments, I  became  convinced  there  was  not  the  slightest  founda- 
tion, —  I  will  not  say,  for  the  abominable  stories  of  Simonides, 
but  for  the  charges  laid  against  him  by  the  prosecuting  officer. 
Every  one  who  knows  Dr.  King  knows  that  he  is  a  sturdy 
specimen  of  the  New  England  Puritan  ;  and  no  one  could  be 
surprised  to  be  told  that  New  England  orthodoxy  and  the 
practices  of  the  Greek  Church  are  not  exactly  in  unison.  Dr. 
King  published  a  little  pamphlet  containing  extracts  from  the 
Greek  fathers,  in  which  some  of  the  dogmas  of  the  Church 
are  pointedly  condemned  ;  and  occasional  expressions  of  his 
own  were  interpreted  into  censures  on  the  existing  practices, 
regarded  by  him  as  idolatrous.  If  he  spoke  of  the  idolatry  of 
the  ancient  heathen,  suspicions,  excited  by  the  more  fanatical 
portion  of  the  priesthood  and  the  press,  immediately  pointed 
the  application  to  the  pictures  in  the  Greek  churches.  On  one 
occasion  a  number  of  young  priests  in  their  robes  went  to  his 
house  to  hear  him  preach.  It  was  a  preconcerted  plan  to  draw 
him  out.  As  the  service  went  on,  they  interrupted  him  by 
asking  questions.  Some  of  them  he  answered  ;  but  as  he  no- 
ticed that  a  mob  was  collecting  about  his  house,  and  that  furi 
ous  clamors  were  raised,  he  declined  continuing  the  discussion. 


GREECE   SINCE   1843.  191 

and  proposed  meeting  them  on  another  and  more  appropriate 
day.  The  tumult  increased,  and  signs  of  violence  began  to  be 
shown.  Dr.  King,  who  was  then  and  still  is  acting  vice-consul 
of  the  United  States,  bethought  himself  of  the  United  States 
flag,  which  he  forthwith  unrolled  from  his  window.  The  effect 
was  magical.  The  mob  were  silenced  and  took  to  their  heels ; 
and  the  young  priests  fled,  their  black  robes  fluttering  in  the 
breeze  like  streamers,  running  as  if  they  expected  a  broad- 
side from  Captain  Ingraham.  Dr.  King  finished  the  services  in 
peace.  But  he  was  brought  to  trial  two  years  ago ;  and  the 
whole  trial,  from  its  inception  to  its  close,  was  a  scandal  and 
a  shame  to  the  courts  of  Athens.  The  most  absurd  and  irrel- 
evant testimony  was  introduced  ;  and  the  words  of  the  law  were 
tortured  into  the  most  arbitrary  misapplication  to  the  facts  of 
the  case,  in  the  written  decision  of  the  lower  court.  Dr.  King 
was  found  guilty,  and  on  appeal  to  the  court  of  the  Areopagus, 
the  highest  tribunal  in  Greece,  the  sentence,  with  a  slight 
modification,  was  confirmed.  To  one  reading  the  evidence,  the 
Constitution,  and  the  laws,  the  whole  proceeding  seems  a  mock- 
ery of  justice,  and  draws  with  it  a  conclusion  of  base  ingrati- 
tude towards  one  of  the  best  and  most  honorable  friends  of 
Greece.  One  cannot  look  at  it  in  any  aspect  without  aston- 
ishment, that  grave  judges  of  the  highest  court  in  Athens 
could  have  come  to  such  a  decision  on  such  evidence,  or  rather 
in  such  utter  absence  of  all  respectable  evidence  ;  and  the  only 
explanation  is  —  and  that  is  poor  enough  —  that  it  is  one  of 
those  exceptional  cases  which  deform  the  judicial  history  of 
every  country,  in  which  passion  and  prejudice  have  over- 
borne the  laws  of  evidence  and  the  principles  of  justice.  In 
truth,  the  charges  are  so  ridiculous,  one  can  only  wonder  that 
decent  men  should  ever  have  consented  to  bring  the  case  for- 
ward, or  that  a  decent  court  could  have  hesitated  for  a  moment 
to  turn  it  ignominiously  out  of  doors.  The  final  decision  was 
given  in  February,  1852,  ser^encing  Dr.  King  to  fourteen 
days'  imprisonment,  the  costs  of  trial,  and  banishment  from  th«> 
countrv- 


492  MODERN   GREECE. 

Now  this  case  is  very  bad.  It  could  not  well  be  worse.  I 
have  not  a  word  to  say  in  apology  for  it.  It  is  thoroughly  dis- 
graceful to  those  who  were  concerned  in  it.  But  it  was  not 
the  work  of  the  Greek  nation,  nor  of  the  court ;  the  blame 
belongs  to  a  fanatical  faction  of  the  Church  and  people,  to  an 
unprincipled  editor,  and  to  foreign  intriguers.  I  read  the  pro- 
ceedings with  the  same  loathing  and  contempt  with  which  I 
read  at  Constance  the  proceedings  of  the  council  there,  which 
condemned  John  Huss  to  the  flames,  —  with  which  I  read  the 
proceedings  of  our  own  courts,  which  condemned  nineteen  in- 
nocent persons  to  be  hanged  for  witchcraft.  And,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  was  pleased  to  find  that  no  attempt  had  been  made  to 
carry  the  sentence  into  execution ;  that  Dr.  King  walked  the 
streets  of  Athens,  when  I  arrived  there  last  year,  with  as  little 
fear  as  I  did ;  that  he  preached  at  his  own  house  excellent 
sermons  every  Sunday,  to  all  who  chose  to  hear  him ;  thajt 
twelve  of  the  most  distinguished  lawyers  at  the  Athenian  bar 
subcribed  a  paper  in  which  they  declared  their  opinion,  in  the 
most  unequivocal  manner,  that  the  decision  of  the  lower  court 
established  an  absurd  principle,  and  that  the  court  of  the  Are- 
opagus committed  a  very  serious  error  in  refusing  to  overrule 
it.  This,  I  think,  is  not  a  little  creditable  to  the  independence 
of  the  Athenian  bar.  The  government  of  the  United  States 
instructed  our  Minister  at  Constantinople,  Mr.  Marsh,  to  pro- 
ceed to  Athens,  and  examine  the  subject  on  the  spot.  He  did 
so,  and  went  through  the  work  with  so  much  thoroughness  and 
ability,  —  examining  the  Constitution,  the  laws,  the  proceed- 
ings of  both  courts,  and  all  the  facts  in  the  case,  —  that  he  left 
'he  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  Mr.  Paicos,  not  an  inch  of 
ground  to  stand  upon,  when  he  attempted  a  feeble  justification. 
The  claim  of  compensation  for  land  taken  was  disposed  of  with 
equal  thoroughness  and  ability.  Indeed,  while  I  was  in  Athens, 
I  heard  more  than  once  the  greatest  astonishment  expressed 
at  the  familiarity  Mr.  Marsh  exhibited  with  Athenian  law,  and 
the  masterly  manner  in  which  he  conducted  the  discussion. 
Having  said  this  much,  I  will  add,  that  I  cannot  concur  in  th« 


GREECE   SINCE   1843.  493 

general  censure  which  our  Minister  cast  upon  the  whole  Greek 
nation,  nor  in  the  charge  of  false  pretences  and  bad  faith  which, 
in  his  correspondence,  he  more  than  intimated  against  the 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs. 

Before  the  decision  of  the  government  was  made  known,  Mr. 
Marsh  was  recalled  from  the  place  he  filled  with  such  distin- 
guished ability,  and  succeeded  by  a  man  who,  totally  ignorant 
of  the  languages  and  laws  of  the  East,  had,  as  I  have  been  told, 
the  wisdom  to  demand  a  settlement  of  the  Greek  government 
on  the  basis  laid  down  by  Mr.  Marsh.  I  believe  that  the 
matter  has  been  entirely  adjusted  by  the  unconditional  remis- 
sion of  the  sentence  and  payment  for  the  land. 

The  most  recent  difficulty  of  the  Greek  government  is  that 
which  occurred  last  spring,  on  occasion  of  the  outbreak  in 
Thessaly  and  Epeirus,  when  the  Greeks  were  charged  with 
violating  their  neutrality  by  affording  assistance  to  the  rebels  in 
those  provinces.  In  point  of  fact,  many  Greeks,  among  them 
several  officers,  joined  their  countrymen  in  the  attempt  to 
throw  off"  the  yoke  of  Turkey ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  they 
were  encouraged  by  the  agents  of  Russia.  But  how  far  the 
king  lent  his  countenance  to  the  violation  of  neutrality,  I  am 
unable  as  yet  to  make  up  my  mind.  There  are,  however,  two 
sides  to  every  question.  The  presses  of  the  allied  powers  now 
universally  condemn  the  Greeks,  both  those  in  the  kingdom  of 
Greece  and  those  who  seized  the  opportunity  of  attempting  to 
emancipate  themselves.  I  expressed  the  opinion,  in  a  former 
Lecture,  that  the  Greeks  have  a  perfect  right  to  rise  against 
the  Turks  whenever  they  find  themselves  able  to  do  so,  in  spite 
of  the  treaty  of  the  European  powers  replacing  them  under 
the  government  of  the  Porte,  to  which  they  not  only  were  not 
parties,  but  which  aroused  their  burning  indignation,  and  in- 
spired them  with  a  firm  resolve  to  strike  again  for  liberty  and 
.ndependence  when  the  hour  of  redemption  should  come.  I 
was  in  the  North  of  Greece,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  in- 
surrection, last  year,  and  I  had  many  conversations  with  the 
people.     They  did  not  hesitate  to  speak  out  fully,  when  they 


494  MODERN   GREECE. 

knew  that  I  was  an  American.  Besides  many  others,  I  be- 
came acquainted  with  a  family  named  Demakedes,  —  four 
brothers,  —  the  eldest  of  whom  owns  Thermopylae.  I  passed 
three  days  with  him  on  that  famous  spot,  and  had  many  a  long 
talk  on  all  sorts  of  subjects.  He  told  me  about  his  family, 
their  property  in  the  Turkish  provinces,  the  difficulties  and 
embarrassments  of  living  under  the  Turkish  government,  and 
the  intense  desire  they  all  felt  to  be  free.  Among  other  do- 
mestic details,  he  informed  me  that  he  and  his  three  brothers 
were  unmarried.  As  they  were  men  of  large  property,  very 
intelligent,  handsome,  gentlemanlike,  and  social,  I  was  not  a 
little  surprised,  and  made  some  laughing  remonstrance  on  such 
a  neglect  of  the  primal  duties  of  citizenship.  "  Sir,"  said  he 
very  seriously,  "  we  resolved  not  to  marry,  in  order  that,  when 
the  moment  came  to  strike  for  liberty,  we  might  have  no  do- 
mestic hinderances  to  keep  us  from  doing  our  part  for  the  eman- 
cipation of  our  country."  That  was  the  spirit  of  the  people  in 
those  provinces,  and  most  assuredly  that  was  not  born  of  Rus- 
sian influence.  Returning  to  Athens,  I  expressed  to  some 
friends  there  my  belief  that  there  would  be  a  rising  in  the 
North  as  soon  as  hostilities  commenced  between  Russia  and 
Turkey.  They  thought  I  had  been  quizzed  by  talkative 
Greeks ;  but  the  first  news  I  heard  from  Greece,  after  my 
return  to  the  West  of  Europe,  was  that  an  insurrection  had 
broken  out  in  Thessaly  and  Epeirus.  I  was  not  surprised ; 
for,  though  no  politician,  I  was  very  sure  that  four  handsome, 
rich,  intelligent,  high-spirited  brothers,  and  those  brothers 
young  Greeks  and  full  of  the  old  Hellenic  love  of  beauty,  did 
not  remain  bachelors  for  nothing.  In  spite  of  the  alliance  of 
France  and  England  to  uphold  the  integrity  of  the  Turkish 
Empire,  I  could  not  help  wishing  the  insurgents  success ;  and 
when  I  heard  that  several  hundred  students  from  the  Univer- 
sity of  Athens  had  left  their  books,  and  rushed  to  the  frontier, 
I  was  not  quite  sure  that,  if  I  had  been  in  Athens,  as  I  was  a 
few  weeks  before,  I  should  not  have  gone  too,  —  to  look  after 
them,  I  mean. 


GREECE   SINCE   1843.  496 

The  Ministers  of  France  and  England,  of  course,  under  ex- 
isting circumstances,  could  not  avoid  interfering  with  a  strong 
hand.  They  are  bound  by  the  treaty  of  1832,  which  defines 
the  frontier,  and  they  could  not  well  allow  it  to  be  violated  by 
a  kingdom  which  they  had  themselves  created.  Their  inter- 
views with  the  king  and  queen  were  much  more  vivacious  than 
diplomatic  interviews  usually  are.  They  hinted  that  it  might 
be  necessary  to  take  possession  of  the  capital  with  an  army  of 
occupation.  The  queen  protested,  that,  if  any  such  outrage 
were  committed  upon  Greece,  she  would  leave  her  palace,  put 
herself  at  the  head  of  the  army,  unfurl  the  banner  of  emancipa- 
tion, and  appeal  to  the  whole  Hellenic  race ;  and  it  was  with  dif- 
ficulty that  she  could  be  calmed  down  to  a  more  diplomatic  state 
of  mind  by  her  husband  and  friends.  In  the  days  of  chivalry, 
thousands  of  gallant  knights  would  have  rallied  round  her  ;  but 
the  age  of  chivalry  is  gone,  and  the  age  of  protocols  has  suc- 
ceeded. The  threat  of  the  diplomatists  has  been  executed,  and 
the  queen  has  not  taken  arms.  French  regiments  are  now 
quartered  at  Peiraeus,  and  a  body  of  English  troops  at  Patras. 

The  Greeks  have  enjoyed  the  freedom  of  the  press  ever 
since  the  days  of  the  Turks.  Before  the  adoption  of  the  Con- 
stitution, the  government  made  one  vain  attempt  to  check  its 
license  ;  since,  neither  king  nor  minister  has  dreamed  of  re- 
peating the  attempt,  even  when  its  attacks  upon  their  measures 
and  persons  surpassed  the  bitterness  of  the  English  and  Amer- 
ican political  newspapers.  How  is  it  under  the  occupation  of 
Louis  Napoleon  ?  I  had  a  letter  by  the  last  steamer  from 
Athens,  in  which  the  following  sentences  occur.  "The  French 
Admiral,  the  other  day,  sent  up  a  file  of  soldiers  from  the 
French  camp  at  the  Peiraeus,  and  carried  off  Mr.  Philemon, 
the  editor  of  the  'Aion,'  and  all  his  presses  and  types.  Phile- 
mon was  detained  a  prisoner  on  board  the  Admiral's  ship,  and 
allowed  to  see  no  one  but  his  own  family.  After  a  detention 
of  three  weeks,  he  was  permitted  to  return  home,  upon  giving 
his  promise  that  he  would  not  resume  his  paper  without  the 
permission  of  Baron  Rouen Subsequently,  the  paper  con- 


496  MODERN    GREECE. 

ducted  by  Mr.  Levides,  called  the  '  Elpis,'  was  stopped  by  or- 
der of  the  French  Minister."  Now,  supposing  the  occupation 
of  Greece  to  be  justifiable  by  the  law  of  nations,  is  there  any- 
thing to  justify  this  violent  interference  with  the  constitutional 
rights  of  citizens  ?  Outrageous,  however,  as  this  is,  I  cannot 
help  admiring  the  retributive  justice  which  has  fallen  on  the 
head  of  Philemon.  This  man  was  the  most  active  and  malig- 
nant persecutor  of  Dr.  King.  His  was  the  press  which  roused 
against  one  of  the  best  of  men  the  tempest  of  fanatical  pas- 
sion, which  might  have  cost  him  his  life  ;  and  now  he  and  his 
press  are  in  durance  vile,  under  the  armed  hand  which  does 
not  strike  lightly  or  in  vain. 

One  good  effect,  however,  of  these  complications  with  Eng 
land  and  France  is  the  change  of  ministry  at  Athens.  The 
former  ministers  were  not  destitute  of  ability.  Mr.  Paicos, 
the  Secretary  for  Foreign  Affairs,  is  regarded  as  a  good  citizen 
and  a  man  of  virtuous  private  life  ;  but  his  correspondence  with 
Mr.  Marsh  is  wanting  in  business-like  directness,  and  shows 
no  striking  ability.  The  Minister  of  Education  and  Religion 
was  accused  of  venality.  The  Cabinet,  collectively,  were 
not  friendly  to  the  just  and  fair  operation  of  the  Constitution. 
They  were  accused,  and  I  believe  justly,  of  interfering  in  the 
popular  elections  by  bribery  and  intimidation.  The  custom- 
house officers  were  instructed  to  grant  privileges  to  traders 
who  voted  for  the  government  candidates,  —  the  government 
candidates  being  openly  designated  by  the  Cabinet.  While  I 
was  travelling  through  Greece,  the  elections  for  the  Assembly 
now  in  session  were  going  on.  I  not  only  heard  the  com- 
ments of  the  people,  but  saw  the  way  in  which  the  soldiery, 
stationed  at  different  points  of  the  country,  under  pretence  of 
keeping  order,  occupied  themselves  in  bringing  up  to  the  poll? 
ragamuffins  who  had  been  furnished  with  the  government  ba. 
lot.  Whether  they  took  me  for  one  of  this  class,  I  do  not 
know ;  but  as  I  was  watching  the  proceedings  one  day  in 
Athens,  a  ballot  was  placed  in  my  hand  by  these  accommc* 
bating  gentlemen,  and  I  suppose  I  might  have  had  the  grat 


GREECE   SINCE   1843.  497 

ification  of  helping  to  elect  the  honorable  representatives  of 
the  capital.  I  preferred,  however,  to  give  the'  document  a 
place  among  my  Athenian  curiosities. 

The  present  ministry  contains  the  leaders  of  the  liberal  or 
constitutional  party.  Mavrocordatos,  the  hero  and  statesman, 
lately  Minister  to  France,  is  at  the  head  of  the  Cabinet.  Peri- 
cles Argyropoulos,  Professor  of  Law  in  the  University,  and  a 
very  able  and  honorable  man,  is  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Af- 
fairs. Mr.  Psyllas,  a  Senator,  and  the  most  eloquent  member 
of  that  body,  is  Minister  of  Religion  and  Education.  General 
Kalergi,  whom  I  have  already  sketched,  is  Minister  of  War. 
The  other  members  of  the  Cabinet  I  know  only  by  name ;  but 
a  Cabinet  which  numbers  four  such  men  as  I  have  just  men- 
tioned will  do  honor  to  any  country.  Alexander  Mavrocor- 
datos has  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  illustrious  names,  which 
his  own  abilities,  character,  and  exploits  have  made  still  more 
illustrious  than  he  received  it  from  his  fathers.  Pericles  Ar- 
gyropoulos belongs  to  an  old  Fanariot  family,  is  one  of  the 
most  eminent  lawyers  and  professors,  has  been  President  of  the 
University,  and  is  probably  the  best  teacher  of  law  they  ever 
had.  He  is  a  gentleman  of  spotless  honor,  amiable  manners, 
and  accomplished  mind.  Mr.  Psyllas  has  received  from  his 
countrymen  the  name  of  Aristeides  the  Just,  as  a  token  of 
their  profound  recognition  of  his  incorruptible  integrity.  He 
had  long  been  the  leader  of  the  opposition, — by  his  honesty, 
firmness,  and  powerful  eloquence,  the  most  formidable  antago- 
nist that  the  government  recently  overthrown  ever  had  to  en- 
counter. To  the  hands  of  these  able  and  honorable  gentlemen 
the  destinies  of  Greece  are  now  intrusted.  They  have  a  diffi- 
cult task  before  them ;  they  have  many  and  radical  reforms  to 
make,  and  many  vices  of  former  administrations  to  cure.  I 
i*ust  they  will  have  the  hearty  co-operation  of  the  king.  I 
know  they  will  have  the  earnest  support  of  Mr.  Wyse,  the 
generous  and  accomplished  Minister  of  her  Britannic  Majesty ; 
and  I  heartily  wish  the  Un'ted  States  had  a  diplomatic  repre- 
sentative there  who  could  add  the  force  of  his  country's  in 
vol.  ii.  32 


498  MODERN   GREECE. 

fluence  in  favor  of  liberal  principles  and  enlightened  govern- 
ment ;  for  that  influence  would  be  very  weighty,  both  on 
account  of  old  services  still  gratefully  remembered,  and  because 
our  country  has  no  interests  to  subserve  by  intriguing  in  East- 
ern politics,  and  her  Minister  would  command  the  unsuspecting 
confidence  of  the  Greek  nation,  which  no  European  Minister 
can.  It  is  of  much  greater  moment  that  we  should  be  prop- 
erly represented  at  Athens  than  at  the  court  of  Constantino- 
ple, —  at  least  until  the  Greek  monarchy,  as  in  the  course  of 
events  it  must,  shall  supplant  in  Europe  the  empire  of  the  Mos- 
lem, and  the  cross  triumph  over  the  crescent  on  those  fair 
shores  where  it  was  first  planted. 

The  state  of  Athens  and  of  Greece  is  now  such  as  I  have 
just  sketched.  When  I  arrived  there,  in  October  of  last  year, 
there  was  much  excitement  in  the  prospect  of  hostilities  open- 
ing between  the  Russians  and  the  Turks.  The  newspapers 
were  filled  with  discussions  of  the  question,  and  the  Greeks 
were  talking  politics  in  the  coffee-houses  with  their  usual  volu- 
bility. To  me,  just  arrived  from  Constantinople,  the  scene  pos- 
sessed a  fresh  and  living  interest,  added  to  the  thrilling  associa- 
tions which  must  cluster  around  the  name  of  Athens  in  every 
mind,  however  slightly  tinctured  with  letters.  As  I  came 
up  from  the  promontory  of  Sunium,  along  the  rocky  coast 
of  Attica,  I  easily  recognized  the  prominent  features  of  the 
scene.  Old  Hymettus  rises  upon  my  right,  where  the  classic 
bees  still  yield  their  honeyed  wealth,  as  in  the  days  of  Plato. 
Next  opens  the  Plain  of  Athens,  with  Pentelicus,  Parnes,  Ci- 
thseron  beyond,  and  Lycabettus  towering  as  a  background  to 
the  city  of  Athens.  Soon  the  Acropolis  faintly  breaks  upon  the 
vision ;  and  then,  clearer  and  clearer,  the  columns  of  the  Par- 
thenon shine,  in  their  unutterable  beauty,  in  the  morning  sun- 
light which  fills  the  transparent  air  of  Attica  with  a  serene 
lustre  which  I  have  never  seen  equalled  in  Italy  or  the  East. 
On  the  left  lies  the  old  historic  island  of  JEgina,  with  the 
Temple  of  Panhellenian  Zeus  overlooking  the  sparkling  seaa 
fcf  Greece.     Soon  we  pass  the  rocky  foreland,  where  the  tomli 


GREECE   SINCE   1843.  499 

of  Themistocles  is  washed  by  the  waters  in  which  the  Persian 
fleet  went  down  on  the  great  day  of  Salamis.  We  enter  the 
harbor  of  Peiraeus,  surrounded  by  the  crumbling  memorials,  the 
massive  but  ruined  walls,  the  towers  overthrown,  the  solid 
foundations  that  line  the  rocky  shore  all  round  the  harbors 
and  headlands  where  the  might  of  Athens  was  once  securely 
seated.  We  land  on  the  quay  where  Miltiades  and  Themis- 
tocles and  Pericles  had  landed  a  hundred  times  before. 

We  drive  up  to  Athens  —  O  unclassical  contrast !  —  in  a 
rickety  coach,  with  a  pair  of  spavined  horses ;  but  no  matter 
for  that.  Here  are  the  ruins  of  the  Long  Walls,  — yonder  the 
groves  of  olive,  —  the  sacred  tree  of  Minerva,  consecrated  to 
eternal  fame  by  the  music  of  Plato's  eloquent  philosophy, 
once  heard  along  the  banks  of  the  murmuring  Cephissus,  which 
I  behold  at  this  moment  sparkling  beneath  the  green,  fantastic 
branches  of  the  trees.  A  turn  in  the  road  brings  us  directly  in 
view  of  the  Bema,  the  Propylsea,  the  prison  of  Socrates,  the 
Hill  of  Mars,  and  the  still  almost  perfect  Temple  of  Theseus. 
With  what  delight  we  tread  these  sacred  places,  and  gaze  upon 
these  illustrious  memorials,  under  the  glorious  illumination  of 
that  October  sun  !  We  climb  the  Acropolis  and  wander  among 
its  touching  and  impressive  ruins,  —  its  thousands  of  fragments 
of  statues,  altars,  offerings  of  ancient  piety,  and  works  of  an- 
cient genius ;  the  Erechtheion ;  the  Parthenon,  whose  fortunes 
have  been  almost  as  diversified  as  those  of  Athens  herself,  —  a 
temple  to  the  Virgin  Goddess  of  Wisdom,  a  Christian  church 
of  the  Panagia,  a  chapel  to  the  Madonna,  a  mosque  of  Islam, 
and  now  the  most  solemnly  beautiful  monument  of  antiquity 
on  the  face  of  the  earth.  We  leave  the  Acropolis,  and,  pass- 
ing along  its  southern  slope,  arrest  our  steps  on  the  rock- 
hewn  seats  of  the  Theatre  of  Bacchus,  where  the  great  trage- 
dians spoke  to  the  soul  and  conscience  of  ancient  Greece  the 
awful  sentence  of  the  vengeance  of  the  gods  on  the  doomed 
households  of  the  great  offenders.  This  was  Athens,  the  an- 
cient. Beyond  the  Acropolis  lies  the  modern  city,  with  its 
tumults  and  humors  and  gossip.      But  here,  too,  is  Athens, 


f)00  .  MODERN   GREECE. 

These  men  that  crowd  the  streets,  no  less  than  those  who  once 
worshipped  in  the  Acropolis,  and  whose  dust  has  slept  two 
thousand  years  in  yonder  Cerameicus,  are  Greeks,  are  Athe- 
nians. The  language  they  speak  falls  not  unfamiliarly  on  the 
ear.  I  have  read  these  words,  here  used  by  living  men  to  ex- 
press their  living  thoughts,  in  Xenophon,  in  Plato,  in  Aris- 
tophanes, as  in  what  the  scholars  erroneously  call  a  dead  lan- 
guage. No,  the  language  is  not  dead.  As  we  have  the  Acrop- 
olis with  its  Parthenon,  lovely  in  its  decay  ;  as  we  have  a  living 
Athens  by  the  side  of  Athens  of  old ;  as  we  have  men  and 
women,  with  forms  and  figures  like  those  in  the  time-stained 
marbles  that  fill  the  British  Museum  and  the  Vatican,  or  still 
linger  in  the  place  of  their  creation,  —  so  we  have  in  the  land  of 
Demosthenes,  Plato,  and  Aristophanes  the  language  they  once 
spoke,  with  changed  constructions  and  shorn  of  some  of  the 
graces  it  exulted  in  when  Pericles  roused  all  Hellas  with  the 
terrible  might  of  his  speech.  Yet  is  the  Greek  language  still 
destined  to  be  the  organ  of  a  new  civilization  throughout  the 
sunny  lands  where,  three  thousand  years  ago,  its  earliest  tones 
were  heard. 


LECTURE    XII. 

LANGUAGE   AND    PRONUNCIATION.  —  EDUCATION.  —  LITERA- 
TURE. —  POETRY.  —  ADVENTURES    OF   TRAVEL. 

I  have  been  often  asked  whether  one  who  had  studied  the 
ancient  Greek  could  understand  the  modern.  The  answer 
cannot  be  given  in  a  single  sentence.  It  is  true  that  the  Greek, 
as  spoken  at  the  present  day,  is  substantially  the  language  that 
was  spoken  in  the  time  of  Demosthenes,  and  its  preservation 
is  one  of  the  most  surprising  instances  of  tenacious  nationality 
in  the  history  of  our  race.  But  there  are  important  distinc- 
tions between  the  ancient  and  the  modern,  which  grow  out  of 
changes  in  the  structure,  no  less  than  modifications  of  the 
meaning  of  words.  Nearly  all  the  words  now  employed  by 
educated  Greeks  are  the  same  that  were  used  by  their  ances- 
tors ;  but  the  grammar  of  the  language  is  modern.  The  an- 
cient Greek  had  a  rich  and  subtile  development  of  inflections 
and  grammatical  constructions,  which  enabled  it  to  express  the 
nicest  shades  of  meaning,  the  boldest  conceptions  of  poetry, 
and  the  loftiest  eloquence,  not  only  with  wonderful  precision, 
but  also  in  the  most  harmonious  and  beautiful  forms.  To 
speak  Greek  as  an  educated  man  of  ancient  Athens  spoke  it,  as 
Demosthenes  spoke  it,  as  Plato  spoke  it,  was  one  of  the  finest 
of  the  fine  arts ;  and  when  we  see  the  effects  which  this 
matchless  instrument  was  capable  of  producing,  we  can  well 
understand  the  reason  why  the  great  writers  and  speakers  and 
poets  spent  so  many  years  in  the  laborious  task  of  mastering 
all  its  compass  ;  and  why  it  is  that  their  orations,  philosophical 
dialogues,  tragedies,  comedies,  lyrics,  and  epics,  like  their  statues 
and   temples,  surpass,   as  works  of  art,  the    best  productions 


502  MODERN   GREECE. 

of  modern  times,  and  must  forever  serve,  in  any  enlightened 
system  of  liberal  education,  as  the  models  of  taste  and  the 
foremost  aids  in  literary  culture.  The  pronunciation  was 
equally  elaborate,  combining  the  two  elements  of  accent  and 
quantity,  or  musical  time,  with  the  utmost  elegance,  and  produc- 
ing a  balance  between  emphasis  and  rhythm  which  it  required 
long  training  and  great  delicacy  of  organs  to  attain  in  its  per- 
fection. Such  an  instrument  could  not  keep  in  tune  forever  : 
it  is  strange  that  it  kept  in  tune  so  long.  From  the  time  of 
Homer  down  to  six  or  seven  centuries  after  Christ,  though 
the  language  underwent  many  modifications,  it  retained  un- 
changed these  essential  characteristics ;  and  for  a  still  longer 
period,  namely,  to  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  its 
grammatical  structure,  as  employed  in  literature,  was  still  un- 
disturbed, although  the  combination  of  rhythm  and  accent  had 
long  ceased  to  mark  the  pronunciation.  The  period  for  which 
the  Greek  tongue  continued,  without  any  essential  modifica- 
tion of  its  organism,  cannot  have  been  less  than  twenty-five 
hundred  years. 

In  the  language  spoken  by  the  common  people,  the  old  sys- 
tem of  grammatical  forms  —  perhaps  never  existing  in  its  com- 
pleteness among  the  uneducated  —  was  abandoned  somewhere 
between  the  sixth  and  the  eleventh  century.  We  cannot  trace 
the  change  step  by  step  for  want  of  documents ;  but  it  is  certain 
that  the  popular  speech  of  the  Byzantine  Empire,  before  the 
twelfth  century,  possessed  all  the  grammatical  peculiarities 
which  mark  the  language  of  Greece  as  spoken  and  written  at 
the  present  day.  The  first  poem  published  in  Modern  Greek, 
as  I  stated  in  a  former  course,  was  addressed  by  Theodore 
Ptochoprodromus,  a  contemporary  of  Anna  Comnena,  to  the 
Emperor  Manuel  Comnenus ;  and  this  has  not  only  the  gram- 
matical, but  the  rhythmical,  form  of  the  popular  poetry  at  the 
present  day.  What,  then,  are  the  changes  that  came  over 
the  spoken  language  before  the  twelfth  century?  1.  The 
tenses  of  the  verb  were  formed  by  auxiliaries,  as  in  the  other 
modern  languages,  instead  of  being  modified  forms  of  the  root 


LANGUAGE  AND  PRONUNCIATION.  503 

of  the  verb;  e.  g.  e%&>  ypcutyei,  6e\a>  ypdtyei, —  /  have  written, 
I  shall  write,  —  instead  of  yeypacpa,  ypdyfrw.  2.  The  in- 
creased use  of  prepositions  to  express  the  relations  of  cases, 
instead  of  expressing  them  by  changes  of  termination  in 
the  words.  3.  The  disappearance  of  quantity  as  the  principal 
rhythmical  element  in  poetical  composition,  and  the  substi- 
tution of  accent,  as  in  the  other  modern  languages  ;  and,  still 
later,  the  general  introduction  of  rhyme.  4.  Various  changes 
and  corruptions  in  the  sounds  of  the  vowels  and  diphthongs, 
especially  the  representation  of  the  same  sound,  ee,  by  t,  rf, 
ei,  v,  oi,  vi,  —  six  different  letters  or  combinations  of  letters 
which  originally,  without  doubt,  were  distinguished  from  one 
another.  It  is  this  peculiarity  which  has  given  to  the  modern 
Greek  the  characteristic  called  etacism.  In  the  successive 
periods  of  the  occupation  of  Greece  by  Romans,  Franks,  and 
Turks,  many  words  from  the  languages  of  these  races  found 
a  temporary  lodgement  in  the  Greek ;  but  at.  the  present  day 
they  have  nearly  all  disappeared  from  the  language  of  good 
society.  Among  the  uneducated  people,  as  in  all  other  coun- 
tries, numerous  corruptions  and  vulgarisms  prevail,  but  not 
more  than  in  England,  France,  and  Germany.  The  general 
character  of  the  language  is  the  same  at  Constantinople, 
Athens,  Thebes,  and  Delphi. 

When  Greek  was  first  taught  in  Western  Europe,  it  was 
taught  by  Greeks,  and  of  course  with  the  pronunciation  of  the 
country,  which  was  the  same  then  as  now ;  but  afterwards  a 
fierce  controversy  arose,  in  which  many  bitter  words  were 
wasted,  on  the  true  pronunciation  of  the  Greek.  The  result 
was  a  kind  of  armistice,  in  which  each  nation  quietly  began  to 
pronounce  the  Greek  after  the  analogy  of  its  own  language, 
agreeing  in  nothing  except  in  applying  the  accent  of  the  Latin 
to  the  Greek,  under  the  delusion  that,  by  accenting  the  Greek 
according  to  the  rules  of  the  Latin,  they  were  marking  the  quan- 
tity and  observing  the  rhythm  of  the  Greek.  This  beautiful 
language  was  thus  put  into  as  many  masquerades  as  there  were 
nations  to  study  it ;  but,  beyond  all  Question,  the  most  frightful 


304  MODERN   GREECE. 

disguise  which  the  lovely  stranger  has  been  compelled  to  wear 
is  the  hideous  pronunciation  of  English  and  American  scholars. 
In  Germany,  some  approaches  to  a  true  pronunciation  have 
been  made ;  and  a  few  individuals  in  England  and  Scotland, 
who  have  had  occasion  to  use  the  Greek  in  living  intercourse 
among  men,  have  adopted,  of  necessity,  the  present  pronun- 
ciation. The  American  missionaries,  who  preach  in  this 
language,  do  the  same.  In  truth,  no  other  pronunciation 
would  be  recognized  in  Greece.  I  had  many  conversations  on 
this  subject  with  scholars  at  Athens,  among  others  with  the 
Archbishop  of  Patras,  a  venerable  and  learned  man.  They  all 
admit  that  the  musical  element  of  quantity  has  disappeared 
from  their  language,  but  insist,  with  a  good  ihow  of  reason, 
that  those  who  have  inherited  the  language  from  the  past,  and 
who  have  always  heard  it,  by  unbroken  tradition  from  the  days 
of  the  Apostles,  in  their  churches,  are  more  likely  to  have  a  pro- 
nunciation resembling  that  of  their  ancestors,  than  the  nations 
of  Europe,  who  apply  to  the  Greek  the  pronunciation  of  their 
own  languages,  and  consequently  differ  from  one  another. 

Whether  it  is  expedient  to  introduce  the  modern  Greek  pro- 
nunciation into  European  and  American  schools,  in  teaching 
the  ancient  Greek,  is  a  question  on  which  opposite  opinions  pre- 
vail among  those  best  qualified  to  answer  it.  But  or.e  thing  is 
beyond  all  controversy,  that,  by  pronouncing  the  Greek  as  the 
Greeks  do,  we  give  the  language  the  spirit  of  a  living  speech  in 
the  place  of  a  dead  language ;  and  that,  by  connecting  the  study 
of  the  modern  with  the  ancient,  and  pronouncing  them  both 
alike,  we  should  immensely  facilitate  the  acquisition  of  both.  I 
might  speak,  too,  of  the  importance  of  acquiring  the  easy  use  of 
a  language  which  holds  the  same  place  as  a  means  of  communi- 
cation in  the  East,  which  the  French  occupies  in  the  West  of 
Europe.  It  does  seem  a  little  absurd,  that  a  gentleman  from 
Oxford  or  Cambridge,  who  has  gained  the  first  class  honors  for 
Greek  composition,  on  going  to  Athens  should  find  himself  un- 
able to  utter  a  single  word  in  a  way  to  be  understood  by  the 
Greeks  themselves,  unable  to  understand  a  word  that  he  hears  in 


LANGUAGE   AND  PRONUNCIATION.  505 

the  streets  or  in  society.  Such  an  accomplished  scholar,  who 
may  have  published  the  Tragedies  of  iEschylus  with  commen- 
taries ten  times  as  long  as  the  plays  themselves,  is  presented  to 
a  Greek  lady,  at  a  party,  as  the  celebrated  Professor  So-and-so, 
from  England  or  Germanv.  The  ladv  —  handsome  as  one  of 
the  Caryatides  in  the  Temple  of  Erechtheus  —  makes  one  of 
those  truthful  remarks,  which  are  everywhere  the  prelude  to 
conversation,  about  the  beauty  of  the  weather,  and  your 
learned  Professor,  who  has  amazed  all  Europe  with  the  pro- 
foundness of  his  erudition,  appears  as  stupid,  I  will  not  say 
as  an  owl,  for  the  owl  is  the  bird  of  wisdom  in  the  city  of 
Athene,  but  as  a  donkey  carrying  a  load  of  roots  through 
the  Street  of  Sophocles.  Things  of  this  sort  have  frequently 
happened  ;  so  that  when  you-  ask  if  a  Greek  scholar  un- 
derstands and  can  speak  Modern  Greek,  you  may  safely 
answer,  "  Yes,  if  he  has  learned  it."  But  without  having 
learned  it,  and  with  the  pronunciation  of  England  and  Amer- 
ica, he  may  as  well  attempt  to  converse  with  the  people 
in  the  Potawatamie  dialect.  Dr.  Roeser  told  me  he  was 
once  travelling  with  a  German  Professor.  As  they  were  en- 
tering some  village,  the  shepherds'  dogs  came  out,  howling  and 
showing  their  teeth.  The  Professor,  in  some  alarm,  mustered 
his  classical  Greek,  and  said  in  Xenophontic  style,  */2  ttoi/atjv, 
dirotcdXeaov  tovs  <tov<;  /cvvas,  —  "0  shepherd,  call  away  thy 
dogs."  The  shepherd  leaned  on  his  staff,  and  contemplated 
the  Teutonic  Professor  with  a  mixture  of  fear  and  wonder, 
evidently  thinking  he  had  come  at  least  from  Japan.  The 
Doctor,  having  been  twenty  years  in  the  country,  called  out, 
laughing,  Tcrofiirave,  va  <re  trdpr)  6  Sta/SoX,o<?,  (pdyvage  rd  cr/cv- 
Xcd, —  "Shepherd,  —  Devil  take  you,  —  call  your  whelps." 
This  the  shepherd  thought  was  speaking  reasonably,  and  he 
at  once  complied. 

To  a  certain  extent  I  escaped  this  inconvenience  by  hav- 
ing previously  studied  the  Modern  Greek  ;  but  I  have  often 
amused  myself  by  reading  passages  from  Homer  or  Demosthe- 
nes to  the  Professors  in  the  University,  with  the  English  and 


506  MODERN   GREECE. 

American  pronunciation  ;  and  inextinguishable  laughter,  like 
that  which  shook  the  sides  of  the  Immortals  when  lame  Vul- 
can took  upon  himself  the  office  of  cup-bearer,  received  the 
performance.  "  Do  you  call  that  Greek  ?  "  said  one,  as  soon 
as  he  could  recover  his  breath  sufficiently  to  speak.  "  No,  I 
do  not,  but  many  learned  doctors  do."  The  European  or 
American  scholar,  before  he  can  be  comfortable  in  Athens, 
must  unlearn  his  entire  system  of  pronunciation,  and  he  must 
totally  abandon  the  false  notion  that  his  own  mode  of  pro- 
nouncing is  according  to  quantity  ;  for  he  will  find  that  it  is 
simply  according  to  accent,  and  that,  too,  according  to  a  false 
system  of  accent.  He  no  more  marks  the  quantity  than  the 
Greek  of  to-day  marks  the  quantity  ;  and  to  this  defect,  which 
is  common  to  all  the  modern  modes  of  pronouncing,  he  adds 
the  absurdity  of  an  accentual  system  which  belongs  to  neither 
ancient  nor  modern  Greek,  but  only  to  the  Latin  language. 
So  clearly  is  this  the  case,  that  I  do  not  know  an  instance  of  a 
European  scholar  having  passed  a  few  months  in  Greece,  who 
has  not  wholly  abandoned  his  previous  practice,  and  adopted 
that  of  the  Greeks.  Professor  Bowen,  for  several  years  con- 
nected with  the  University  of  Corfou,  is  now,  at  Oxford,  teach- 
ing the  Greek  with  the  Greek  pronunciation.  Professor 
Blackie,  the  admirable  translator  of  iEschylus,  is  making  the 
Edinburgh  students  read  like  the  Athenians.  Professor  Mas- 
son,  formerly  Attorney- General  in  the  Athenian  courts,  is  do- 
ing the  same  in  Ireland.  Mr.  Arnold,  the  accomplished  mis- 
sionary of  the  Baptists,  whose  Greek  style  in  his  sermons  is 
admired  by  fastidious  native  critics  for  its  purity  and  elegance, 
is  likely,  I  am  glad  to  learn,  to  be  made  Professor  of  Greek  at 
Brown  University,  and  when  that  takes  place  we  shall  hear 
the  Rhode  Island  boys  pronouncing  Greek  like  so  many  young 
Athenians.  It  seems  to  me  clear,  that,  if  the  Greeks  advance 
in  literaiy  culture  as  they  have  advanced  for  the  last  twenty 
years,  they  must  be  allowed  to  teach  other  nations  how  to  pro- 
nounce the  language  of  their  ancestors. 

There  is  no  subject  to  which  more  attention  is  given  in  theif 


LANGUAGE   AND  PRONUNCIATION.  507 

schools  than  language.  They  are  like  the  Greeks  of  old  in 
this  respect ;  no  small  part  of  the  business  of  education  being 
devoted  to  the  mother  tongue.  It  will  be  readily  perceived, 
that  the  language  of  .the  great  body  of  the  people  is  a  popular 
language,  and,  as  such,  differs  much  from  that  spoken  in  cul- 
tivated society.  This  is  no  peculiarity  of  Greece,  but  such 
is  the  characteristic  difference  between  the  educated  and  the 
uneducated  everywhere. 

It  will  be  easily  understood  that  the  state  of  things  under 
the  Turks  was  not  favorable  to  the  cultivation  and  maintenance 
of  purity  of  speech,  among  either  the  learned  or  the  unlearned 
classes ;  and  one  of  the  first  cares  of  the  scholars  who  inspired 
the  country  with  the  hope  of  regeneration  was  to  settle  the 
principles  of  the  language,  which  was  not  only  corrupted  by 
the  admixture  of  foreign  words,  but  exceedingly  irregular  in 
its  forms  and  chaotic  in  its  constructions.  Coraes  was  the  ear- 
liest and  the  ablest  of  these  reformers  ;  and  his  system  has  been 
substantially  followed,  I  think,  by  the  majority  of  his  educated 
countrymen.  It  recognizes  the  forms  and  principles  of  the 
Greek  as  a  modern  language,  but  proposes  to  settle  the  usage, 
to  purify  the  language  from  Turkish,  Italian,  and  other  foreign 
admixtures,  and  to  substitute  pure  Greek  words  for  these  intru- 
sive elements.  There  never  was  a  time  when  even  the  popu- 
lar speech  was  not,  in  by  far  the  greater  part  of  its  words  and 
phrases,  genuine  Greek.  Some  of  the  more  enthusiastic,  in 
their  classical  zeal,  have  hoped  to  restore  the  language  absolute- 
ly, as  it  was  spoken  by  Demosthenes.  Mr.  Buchon,  with  pleas- 
ant exaggeration,  says:  "Philology  is  the  passion  of  all  the 
Greek  students  in  whatever  department.  A  physician,  an  ad- 
vocate, a  professor,  has  often  become  a  minister  of  state,  be- 
cause he  had  a  good  mastery  of  his  language Greek 

grammar  is  at  the  basis  and  summit  of  all  instruction.  .  .  .  Not 
content  with  having  eliminated  all  foreign  words,  the  Athenians 
endeavor  to  approach  *he  ancient  language  as  nearly  as  possi- 
ble, in  words,  in  forms,  in  the  turn  of  phrases,  and  in  inversions. 
....  The  paladins  of  Greek  philology  march  to  the  conquest 


508  MODERN   GREECE. 

of  a  grammatical  form  as  to  a  rich  province.  The  dative  had 
disappeai'ed ;  they  have  raised  it  from  the  tomb :  the  aorist  had 
been  nearly  extinguished  ;  all  are  seeking  to  breathe  into  it  a 
new  life  :  at  present  they  flatter  themselves  with  the  ardent 
hope  of  reconquering  the  infinitive,  which  had  emigrated  so  long 
ago." 

This  was  written  ten  years  ago.  The  process  of  purification 
and  reformation  has  gone  steadily  on  ;  and,  though  the  infini- 
tive has  not  yet  returned  from  its  emigration,  the  aorist  is  re- 
stored to  perfect  health.  In  short,  the  usage  of  the  language 
may  now  be  considered  as  established.  Several  of  the  recent 
grammars,  those  now  of  the  highest  authority  in  Athens,  are 
admirable  specimens  of  philological  skill.  The  course  of  nature 
has  not  been  violated  by  forcing  upon  it  the  ancient  construc- 
tions ;  while  Turkish  wrords,  like  the  Turks  themselves,  have 
been  unceremoniously  turned  out  of  dooi's.  In  the  mean  time, 
the  natural  growth  of  the  language,  and  its  application  to  the 
larger  range  of  thought  required  by  the  superior  civilization  of 
the  age,  have  made  it  necessary  to  enlarge  its  vocabulary  by 
copious  drafts  from  other  sources.  Whence  should  these  drafts 
be  made  ?  Obviously  not  from  English,  French,  or  Italian  ; 
but  naturally,  as  the  Greek  scholars  have  instinctively  decided, 
from  the  abundant  wealth  of  the  ancient  Greek.  Thus  the 
word  for  steamboat  was  made  of  the  two  ancient  words  which 
signify  steam  and  boat,  —  arfiofrXotov,  instead  c£  vapore,  —  as 
the  people  at  first  called  it.  The  post  is  called  ra^vSpofielov, 
instead  of  posta.  A  cigar-shop  is  appropriately  called  Kairvo- 
TrwXelov,  —  a  place  for  selling  smoke.  A  barber's  shop,  as  in 
ancient  Athens,  is  called  a  teovpelov.  A  merchant  tailor  fig- 
ures on  his  sign  as  an  efju-rropos  pdirr'q'i.  A  hotel  is  a  %evoho- 
X^ov.  Pantaloons,  formerly  known  as  to  TravrakovL,  are  now 
Treptcr/ceXtSe?  ;  and  so  on  through  all  the  articles  and  estab- 
lishments relating  to  daily  life. 

To  illustrate  the  progress  of  the  language,  one  of  the  mission- 
aries told  me  that  they  had  been  obliged  to  make  four  transla 
Lions  of  the  Bible  in  twenty  years  ;  and  on  examination  tht 


LANGUAGE   AND   PRONUNCIATION.  509 

differences  were  very  curious.  I  found,  too,  that  several  books 
tvhich  I  had  been  in  the  habit  of  studying  at  home,  and  others 
that  I  had  bought  in  Europe,  were  pronounced  by  the  Atheni- 
ans decidedly  vulgar ;  and  more  than  once  I  came  near  being 
guilty  of  the  grossest  solecisms,  by  relying  on  the  authority  of 
books  a  dozen  years  old. 

This  state  of  things,  natural  as  it  is,  presents  some  whimsi- 
cal aspects,  and  leads  to  amusing  misunderstandings.  A  Scotch 
friend  of  mine,  who  had  long  been  in  Athens,  studying  Greek, 
went  into  a  shop  one  day  to  buy  an  umbrella,  seeing  some  in 
the  window.  He  naturally  inquired  for  the  article  under  the 
name  known  among  scholars  as  aXe^i^poyelov.  The  shop- 
keeper looked  aghast,  and  not  only  protested  that  he  had  no 
such  article  in  the  shop,  but  that  nothing  of  the  kind  was  to  be 
found  in  all  Athens.  My  friend  pointed  to  it  in  the  window. 
"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  the  shopman,  in  a  tone  of  immense  relief, 
" ofifipeWa,  6fi/3pe\\a"  I  had  a  similar  difficulty  in  coming 
to  an  understanding  with  my  washerwoman  on  the  delicate 
subject  of  under- waistcoats.  I  had  made  out  the  list  of  articles 
with  the  most  brilliant  success,  except  in  this  particular  case. 
The  word  I  employed  was  a  very  superior  word,  as  old  as 
Plato,  and  I  called  in  the  waiter  to  see  if  all  was  right ;  but  my 
excellent  friend,  not  being  a  Platonist,  had  not  the  slightest  con- 
ception of  the  thing  in  question ;  but  when  I  pointed  to  it  in  the 
bundle,  "  O,  flanella,  flanella  !  "  was  his  instant  reply.  There 
is  an  Irishwoman  living  in  Athens  married  to  a  bath-house 
keeper.  She  has  been  there  many  years,  and  speaks  a  kind  of 
Hibernian  Greek.  Her  son,  a  bright,  intelligent  lad,  goes  to 
one  of  the  public  schools ;  but  she  complains,  with  a  good  deal 
of  humor,  that  the  boy  came  home,  the  first  day,  and  asked  for 
^8a>p,  instead  of  vepov, — water.  She  thought  it  was  some  in- 
toxicating liquor  he  had  just  heard  of.  The  shopmen  are  not 
ilways  the  best  spellers.  One  day,  as  I  was  going  to  a  dinner 
party,  I  noticed  a  sign  over  a  wine-shop,  with  the  words,  Xap.- 
Travia  T77?  Trpa>TT)<;  TrioTrjros  (ttchot^tos),  intended  to  mean 
Champagne  of  the  first  quality,  but,  one  letter  being  omitted 


510  MODERN    GREECE. 

in  the  last  word,  really  meaning,  of  the  first  drinkability ; 
which  was  not  so  bad. 

In  general,  one  gets  on  very  well  with  good  Greek  words, 
provided  he  pronounces  them  intelligibly.  One  evening  I  had 
some  experience  of  the  difference  between  ancient  and  mod- 
ern usage.  As  I  was  returning  to  my  lodgings  rather  late, 
soon  after  my  arrival  in  Athens,  I  came  near  getting  drawn 
into  a  scrape  with  a  watchman.  The  night  patrols  are  armed 
with  loaded  muskets,  and  they  always  hail  the  passer-by 
with  the  question,  T/s  ec ;  the  same  question,  by  the  by,  that 
Anacreon  puts  to  the  dove,  Who  art  thou  ?  I  had  been  told  by 
my  friends  the  proper  answer,  Ka\o<;.  Now  tea\o<s,  in  ancient 
Greek,  means  a  handsome  fellow.  Well,  I  met  one  of  the 
watchmen,  and,  sure  enough,  the  question  was  roared  out.  I 
hesitated,  having  some  scruples  of  conscience ;  but  when  I 
saw  a  certain  dangerous  movement  of  the  gun,  I  hastily  re- 
viewed the  arguments  of  Paley  in  justification  of  lying  under 
the  pressure  of  circumstances,  —  as,  for  instance,  when  you  are 
required  to  subscribe  a  creed  that  you  do  not  more  than  half 
believe,  or  when  attacked  by  robbers,  and  the  like.  Consider- 
ing, too,  that  it  was  midnight  and  no  moon  was  shining,  that 
nobody  would  be  the  wiser,  and  that  perhaps  life  itself  was  at 
stake,  I  said,  Kakos.  Like  Mrs.  Malaprop,  "  I  did  confess  the 
soft  impeachment,"  and  was  allowed  to  pass  on.  Some  time 
afterward,  I  was  returning  from  a  party,  in  company  with 
Lord  John  Hay,  the  commander  of  a  British  man-of-war  then 
lying  at  the  Peiraeus.  We  were  hailed  in  the  usual  way, 
and  I  answered,  KaXoc.  "  What  does  that  mean  ?  "  said  my 
companion.  "  It  means,"  said  I,  "  that  you  and  I  are  a  couple 
of  handsome  fellows  ;  and  as  I  have  already  gone  through  with 
all  the  wear  and  tear  of  conscience,  I  thought  it  would  be  an 
economy  of  fibbing  if  I  answered  for  both." 

Athenian  society,  as  a  stranger  sees  it,  consists  of  very  va- 
rious elements.  There  are  two  or  three  American  families 
belonging  to  the  missions  ;  a  few  English  families,  including  the 
mrrt  excellent  and  interesting  ladies  at  the  British  Legation 


SOCIETY.  511 

>>ome  French,  German,  and  Swiss  residents,  or  visitors ;  and 
*ome  of  the  principal  families  of  the  Greeks.  Generally  speak- 
ng,  the  Greeks  are  not  accustomed  to  the  European  forms. 
They  expect  to  entertain  their  friends  on  festivals,  when  they 
iress  in  holiday  attire,  and  receive  and  make  numerous  calls. 
tiut  evening  parties  and  dinner  parties  are  not  customary,  ex- 
cept among  the  class  I  have  just  specified.  Nevertheless,  they 
^re  very  kind  and  social  in  other  ways.  I  had  the  good  fortune 
o  carry  letters,  voluntarily  offered  me,  in  London,  Paris,  and 
Munich,  by  Mr.  Tricoupi,  Mr.  Mavrocordatos,  and  Mr.  Schinas, 
;he  Greek  Ministers  in  those  cities,  to  the  principal  persons 
•.onnected  with  the  government,  the  University,  and  in  other 
valks  of  life  ;  so  that  I  had  every  opportunity  to  see  men  and 
nings  that  I  could  desire,  and  more  than  I  was  able  to  make 
ise  of  during  my  limited  stay  in  the  country.  I  deem  it  only 
justice  to  say,  that  in  no  other  city  I  ever  visited  have  I 
-bund  more  agreeable  and  accomplished  society  than  the  so- 
ciety, both  native  and  foreign,  which  I  had  the  happiness  of 
jaeeting  in  Athens ;  nowhere  have  I  received  so  many  kind- 
nesses, or  so  much  assistance  and  co-operation  in  the  execution 
>f  my  plans  of  study  and  travel ;  and  this,  too,  from  all  classes 
>f  people.  I  should  naturally  have  expected  it  from  the  Pro- 
'essors  in  the  University  ;  though,  from  my  experience  in  some 
countries  claiming  to  rank  much  higher  than  Greece,  I  might 
lave  been  justified  in  anticipating  quite  a  different  course.  But 
rrom  other  classes  of  people,  to  whom  I  was  a  stranger,  without 
the  slightest  claim  upon  their  thoughts  for  a  single  moment,  I 
received  more  disinterested  kindness  certainly  than  I  shall  ever 
be  likely  to  repay. 

In  speaking  on  this  subject,  I  may  be  allowed  to  mention 
rhat  King  Otho  and  Queen  Amelia  manifested  great  interest 
n  our  country.  When  I  had  the  honor  of  being  presented  to 
:heir  Majesties,  out  not  on  any  suggestion  of  my  own,  their 
questions  all  related  to  the  state  of  literature,  science,  and 
education  in  the  United  States,  and  especially  to  the  studies 
.nd  students  in  Harvard  University,   which  I  was  enabled  to 


512  MODERN   GREECE. 

inform  them  is  about  as  large  as  the  University  of  Athens. 
Afterwards  the  king  placed  his  yacht  at  my  disposal  for  a 
voyage  among  the  Greek  islands;  and  the  excursion  I  made 
to  Sunium,  JEgina,  and  Salamis,  with  two  English  gentlemen 
whom  I  received  permission  to  invite,  is  among  the  most  agree- 
able reminiscences  I  brought  with  me  from  Greece.  It  was 
amusing,  too;  for  at  Athens  everything  is  attributed  by  the 
quidnuncs  to  a  political  motive.  My  two  friends  and  I  said 
nothing  to  the  other  guests  who  were  living  at  the  hotel ;  but  it 
was  soon  noised  abroad  that  the  American  had  gone  off,  and 
not  only  so,  but  had  taken  two  Englishmen  with  him,  in 
the  royal  yacht.  "  What  can  this  extraordinary  transaction 
mean  ?  Ah  !  we  have  it.  There  is  an  American  influence 
forming  here.  We  have  already  a  French  party,  a  Russian 
party,  an  English  party,  and  now  we  are  going  to  have  an 
American  party,  got  up  by  this  man,  who  pretends  to  be  a  pro- 
fessor, but  is  undoubtedly  a  secret  political  agent.  This  matter 
must  be  looked  after."  When  we  returned,  I  was  closely  and 
very  ably  cross-questioned  by  a  Russian  general,  who  sat  next 
to  me  at  table.  I  told  him  the  simple  truth,  and  it  deceived 
him  more  utterly  than  the  most  ingenious  lie.  "  That  is  all 
very  well,"  said  he,  with  a  shrug  and  a  knowing  look  ;  "  but 
such  things  do  not  fall  from  the  sky."  And  I  have  no  doubt 
that  this  little  voyage  was  the  subject  of  the  next  secret  de- 
spatch to  the  Czar. 

Next  to  the  palace,  the  residences  of  the  foreign  ministers 
are  the  centres  of  social  attraction.  I  ought  to  specify  particu- 
larly the  hotel  of  Mr.  Wyse,  the  honorable  and  distinguished 
Minister  of  Great  Britain.  This  gentleman,  belonging  to  a 
conspicuous  family  in  Ireland,  is  connected  by  marriage  with 
the  Emperor  of  the  French.  He  is  one  of  the  ablest  and  most 
accomplished  persons  I  have  ever  had  the  happiness  of  meeting. 
His  knowledge  of  ancient  letters  and  art  is  as  extensive  and 
accurate  as  that  of  a  German  professor,  while  with  the  litera- 
ture of  modern  Europe  he  has  a  most  familiar  acquaintance, 
speaking  most  cf  the  languages  with  extraordinary  grace  an<j 


SOCIETY.  513 

fluency.  His  conversation  is  enriched  with  the  spoils  of 
learning  gathered  from  all  time.  A  Greek  lady,  speaking  to 
me  of  the  universality  of  his  acquirements,  described  it  by  a 
proverb  of  Crete,  her  native  country,  "  Whatever  stone  you 
turn  over,  you  find  him  under  it."  He  is  a  philanthropist,  and 
an  enlightened  one  ;  a  lover  of  his  country,  but  a  generous 
sympathizer  with  American  principles  of  liberty,  and  a  hopeful 
prophet  of  the  future  triumphs  of  America  in  arts  and  letters,  — 
looking,  as  so  many  noble  spirits  in  Europe  do,  from  the  dark- 
ness that  seems  to  be  descending  over  the  Old  World  to  the 
culminating  light  of  the  New.  He  was  long  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  a  member  of  her  Majesty's  government.  When 
Mr.  Webster  visited  England,  Mr.  Wyse,  out  of  his  enthusias- 
tic admiration  for  our  illustrious  statesman,  and  his  desire  to 
show  his  friendship  towards  our  country  through  him,  was 
among  the  foremost  Englishmen  to  do  him  honor.  With  all 
his  exquisite  culture,  he  has  always  been,  what  so  many  schol- 
ars have  failed  to  be,  an  earnest  friend  of  popular  education. 
No  man  in  England  has  looked  more  deeply  into  that  all-im- 
portant interest.  The  best  book  ever  written  on  the  subject  in 
the  English  language  has  been  written  by  Mr.  Wyse.  The 
best  college  of  an  unsectarian  character  in  the  British  domin- 
ions—  with  the  most  comprehensive  and  most  liberal  system  of 
scientific  and  literary  training — is  the  college  founded  by  him 
in  Ireland,  and  of  which  he  is  still  a  Visitor.  If  Great  Britain 
is  ever  to  enjoy  the  inestimable  blessing  of  a  national  system  of 
nsectarian  instruction,  she  will  owe  it  to  the  noble  labors  and 
generous  devotion  of  Thomas  Wyse,  —  and  Thomas  Wyse  is  a 
Catholic.  It  is  well  to  remember  such  facts  as  these  when  we 
seem  to  be  forgetting  that  our  country  achieved  her  indepen- 
dence by  the  powerful  aid  of  a  Catholic  alliance  ;  that  among 
the  signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  one  of  the  fore- 
most was  a  Catholic  gentleman,  who  imperilled  his  life  and  the 
largest  fortune  in  America  for  the  cause ;  and  that  the  name 
most  entitled  to  our  gratitude,  next  to  Washington,  for  services 
too  great  to  be  repaid,  is  that  of  a  foreign  Catholic  nobleman. 


514  MODERN   GREECE. 

My  sense  of  obligation  to  Mr.  Wyse,  for  the  genial  hospital 
ities  to  which  I  was  welcomed  at  his  house,  and  for  the  delight 
and  instruction  I  drew  from  his  conversation,  in  which  I  had  the 
privilege  of  sharing  largely  during  my  whole  stay  at  Athens, 
has  led  me  a  little  aside  from  the  topic  I  was  discussing.  At  his 
house  the  best  people  of  Athens — I  mean,  the  most  cultivated 
and  liberal-minded  of  the  Athenian  gentlemen,  and  the  most 
amiable  of  the  Athenian  ladies  —  were  often  assembled  ;  and  I 
look  back  to  those  reunions,  presided  over  with  noble  dignity 
by  the  high-bred  and  most  accomplished  niece  of  the  Minister, 
who  spoke  French  with  Frenchmen,  Italian  with  Italians,  Ger- 
man with  Germans,  Greek  with  Greeks,  and  manifested  a  re- 
fined, sincere,  and  generous  nature  in  her  intercourse  with  all 
alike,  —  I  look  back  upon  the  evenings  so  passed,  under  the 
auspices  of  Miss  Wyse  and  the  goddess  of  Wisdom,  almost  in 
the  shadow  of  the  Parthenon,  as  Attic  Nights  in  every  sense  of 
the  phrase,  too  charming  to  be  forgotten,  and  too  rare  in  en- 
joyment to  hope  for  their  repetition. 

To  return  to  King  Otho  :  perhaps,  after  mentioning  my 
obligations  to  him,  I  shall  be  thought  to  have  been  bribed  by 
unusual  acts  of  courtesy  to  a  stranger  ;  but  as  I  have  already 
spoken  with  strong  disapprobation  of  the  course  of  his  govern- 
ment, I  will  venture  to  say,  in  the  face  of  the  European  press, 
that  great  injustice  has  been  done  him  as  a  man,  if  not  as  a 
king.  In  the  first  place,  his  private  life  is  without  a  stain.  He 
has  a  strong  sense  of  religious  obligation.  No  vice,  no  dissi- 
pation, no  profligacy,  has  ever  dishonored  his  youth,  or  been 
allowed  to  enter  his  court.  In  this  respect,  he  sets  an  example 
to  his  subjects  which  could  not  be  improved.  In  the  next 
place,  he  is  an  intelligent  and  accomplished  prince.  I  do  not 
mean  that  he  is  a  man  of  brilliant  talents,  or  of  great  sagacity. 
I  do  not  think  he  is  ;  but  he  is  a  man  of  considerable  knowl- 
edge, speaking  four  languages  fluently,  of  great  industry,  an<^ 
attentive  personally,  in  no  common  degree,  to  the  public  busi- 
ness. I  will  add  to  this,  that  I  believe  him  to  be  a  conscien- 
tious  man,  and  devoted  heart  and  soul  to  the  country  over 


SOCIETY.  515 

which  he  is  called  to  ruL'.  He  is  charitable  to  the  poor,  who 
are  never  turned  from  the  palace-doors  by  the  sentinels  stationed 
there.  I  never  entered  the  palace  without  seeing  twenty  or 
thirty  poor  women,  or  disabled  men,  waiting  in  the  great  corri- 
dor until  the  king  could  attend  to  their  petitions  or  the  king's 
physician  could  prescribe  for  their  complaints  ;  and  I  was  told 
by  one  in  the  confidence  of  his  Majesty,  that  these  poor  people 
are  never  allowed  to  go  away  without  words  of  kindness,  and 
that  no  small  part  of  the  king's  revenue  is  expended  for  their 
relief.  He  was  not,  indeed,  well  fitted  for  his  place.  He  did 
not  comprehend  the  peculiar  political  character  of  the  Greeks, 
nor  the  unsuitableness  of  the  Bavarian  system  to  their  history, 
genius,  expectations,  and  hopes.  But  he  has  had  bitter  experi- 
ence of  the  fruits,  not  only  of  his  own  errors,  but  of  the  evil 
counsels  by  which  he  has  been  misled.  Affairs  have  now  come 
to  a  crisis  which  has  forced  him  to  place  in  power  the  best 
and  most  honest  men  among  his  subjects.  He  is  not  yet  forty 
years  old,  and  may  still  have  a  long  and  prosperous  reign. 
But  whatever  be  his  fate,  Greece  herself  must  certainly  ad- 
vance, and  at  no  distant  time  become  a  considerable  power 
among  the  nations  of  Europe. 

In  speaking  of  Athens,  perhaps  I  ought  not  to  omit  the  Maid 
of  Athens,  immortalized  by  Byron,  —  now  Mrs.  Black,  of  the 
Peiraeus.  The  maiden  name  of  this  lady  was  Theresa  Maria. 
She  was  one  of  three  sisters,  all  of  whom  were  famous  beauties 
in  their  day.  One  of  them  is  the  wife  of  Mr.  Pittakys,  the 
well-known  Superintendent  of  Antiquities  at  Athens.  The 
third,  I  believe,  is  not  living.  Lord  Byron's  lines  were  written 
in  1810,  —  forty-four  years  ago  ;  and  forty-four  years  make  a 
considerable  difference  in  the  appearance  both  of  man  and  wo- 
man ;  so  that  the  language  of  the  noble  poet  cannot  be  expect- 
ed to  apply,  in  all  respects,  at  the  present  day.  It  is  a  common 
thing  for  travellers  in  Greece  to  call  on  Mrs.  Black,  with  no 
other  introduction  than  Zcor)  ftou,  era?  ayairw.  Not  thinking 
this  accidental  celebi  ity  any  ground  for  so  impertinent  a  pro- 
reeding,  it  was  a  long  time  before  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meet 


516  MODERN   GREECE. 

ing  this  lady,  as  she  lives  in  the  Peiraeus,  and  now  seldom 
makes  her  appearance  in  Athens.  But  I  was  invited  one  even- 
ing to  take  tea  and  pass  the  night  at  the  house  of  a  friend  in 
Peirseus.  I  found,  on  arriving  there,  that  the  family  of  Mr. 
Black  were  expected,  and  no  other  guests.  They  soon  came 
in,  —  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Black  and  their  daughter,  a  young  lady 
of  eighteen  or  twenty  ;  and  I  had  the  felicity  of  sitting  the 
whole  evening  on  a  sofa  between  the  old  Maid  of  Athens  and 
the  young  Maid  of  Athens,  —  a  highly  poetical  situation,  as  it 
seemed  to  me,  with  the  beauty  of  the  past  on  one  hand,  and  the 
beauty  of  the  present  on  the  other.  Certainly  Mrs.  Black 
shows  traces  of  the  loveliness  which  inspired  the  Muse  of  By- 
ron ;  and  if  she  did  not,  the  magnificent  beauty  of  the  daugh- 
ter is  a  sufficient  and  most  satisfactory  demonstration  that  it 
once  existed  in  the  mother.  Let  me  add,  that  Mrs.  Black  is 
an  excellent  housekeeper,  her  house  being  one  of  the  best  or- 
dered in  all  Greece.  But  if  there  is  one  thing  in  which  she 
surpasses  the  rest  of  her  sex,  it  is  the  art  of  pickling  olives. 
The  first  time  I  tasted  one  of  her  olives  at  the  house  of  a 
friend,  I  could  not  restrain  an  exclamation  of  surprise  at  their 
delicious  flavor.  "  Those  olives,"  responded  my  entertainer, 
"  were  pickled  by  the  fair  hands  of  the  Maid  of  Athens." 
A  day  or  two  afterward  I  received  a  jar  of  the  fruit  from 
the  Maid  of  Athens,  which  I  keep  as  a  precious  memorial, 
with  a  fragment  of  the  Parthenon,  and  a  cane  cut  from  the 
olive-grove  of  Plato. 

Perhaps,  after  all,  the  most  striking  feature  of  Hellenic 
society  is  the  inextinguishable  zeal  for  education  which  has 
always  characterized  the  people,  and  now  is  more  ardent  than 
ever.  We  have  seen  that  one  of  the  preparations  for  the 
Revolution  was  a  rapid  improvement  in  the  schools,  and  a  large 
increase  of  their  number.  During  the  war,  the  provisional 
governments  never  lost  sight  of  this  subject ;  and  Count  Capo 
d'Istria  gave  to  it  much  of  his  attention.  The  regency  o* 
Otho  organized  the  system  of  public  education  more  thorough- 
ly than  had  previously  been  done.      The  Greeks  also  raised 


EDUCATION.  517 

large  sums  by  private  subscriptions  and  by  local  taxes.  Prince 
Demetrius  Ypselantf  left  his  whole  fortune  to  found  a  school 
in  Nauplia,  which,  when  I  visited  it  last  year,  contained  three 
or  four  hundred  scholars.  Several  schools  for  girls  have  been 
established  in  different  parts  of  Greece.  There  are  two  or 
three  in  Athens,  —  one  under  the  charge  of  a  sister  of  Mavro- 
cordatos ;  another,  the  justly  famous  missionary  school  of  our 
countryman  Dr.  Hill,  which  during  the  last  twenty-five 
years  has  been  of  incalculable  service  to  the  women  of 
Greece.  There  are  many  other  private  schools  all  over 
Greece.  But  doubtless  the  most  characteristic  feature  in  the 
scheme  of  public  education  as  it  now  exists  is  the  system  of 
public  schools.  The  schools  under  this  system  are  :  —  1.  Those 
of  mutual  instruction,  in  which  are  taught  reading,  writing, 
and  arithmetic,  with  the  elements  of  history,  geography,  and 
natural  philosophy,  to  both  boys  and  girls ;  2.  The  Hellenic 
schools,  in  which  are  taught,  in  addition  to  the  further  study 
of  the  above  enumerated  branches,  the  elements  of  the  ancient 
Greek  grammar,  translation  from  ancient  into  modern  Greek, 
and  the  Latin  and  French  languages  ;  3.  The  Gymnasia,  in 
which  the  Latin  and  Greek  are  continued,  with  philosophy, 
logic,  ethics,  physics,  general  history,  mathematical  geography, 
and  the  French,  German,  and  English  languages ;  4.  The 
University  of  Otho,  which  is  organized  with  four  departments 
or  faculties,  —  philosophy,  theology,  medicine,  and  law.  In  the 
schools  of  mutual  instruction,  more  than  forty  thousand  children 
and  youth  were  taught  last  year ;  in  the  Hellenic  schools, 
more  than  five  thousand ;  in  the  Gymnasia,  two  thousand ;  in 
the  University,  above  six  hundred :  in  all  amounting  to  about 
fifty  thousand.  If  we  add  the  pupils  of  the  numerous  private 
schools,  this  number  will  be  greatly  increased.  There  were, 
last  year,  three  hundred  and  ten  schools  of  mutual  instruction, 
eighty-five  Hellenic  schools,  and  seven  Gymnasia.  Besides 
these,  there  are  a  Teachers'  School,  a  Naval  School,  an  Agri- 
cultural School,  and  a  Polytechnic  School.  The  University 
has  a  "orps  of  nearly  forty  professors,  and  an  excellent  library 


518  MODERN   GREECE. 

of  eighty  thousand  volumes.  For  a  country  small  and  poor  as 
Greece,  I  think,  this  state  of  things  shows  that  not  a  little  of 
the  old  intellectual  spirit  still  survives.  Among  the  professors 
are  men  who  would  do  honor  to  any  European  university. 
The  venerable  Asopios  expounds  Homer  with  the  vivacity  of 
a  Nestor.  The  lectures  of  Philippos  Johannis  on  Moral  Philoso- 
phy are  admirable  for  purity  of  style  and  clearness  of  method. 
Rangabes  expounds  the  Fine  Arts  with  learning  and  taste. 
Manouses  lectures  eloquently  on  History.  Pericles  Argyro- 
poulos,  now  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  is  a  most  able 
Professor  of  Law.  Professor  Kontogones  is  profoundly  versed 
in  Biblical  literature,  and  expounds  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  to 
numerous  and  attentive  classes.  Many  others  might  be  men- 
tioned in  terms  of  just  commendation. 

While  in  Athens  I  was  in  the  habit  of  frequently  visiting 
the  schools,  and  remaining  through  the  exercises.  I  have  heard 
Demosthenes  on  the  Crown  explained  to  eager  classes  of 
coarsely  dressed  but  bright-eyed  youths,  within  a  stone's  throw 
of  the  spot  where,  two-and-twenty  centuries  ago,  that  marvel- 
lous oration  was  delivered ;  and  not  only  this,  but  the  aisles 
were  crowded  with  young  men,  and  sometimes  old  men,  who, 
\iaving  an  hour  to  spai'e  from  their  daily  labors,  would  come 
in  to  pick  up  the  crumbs  of  instruction  that  were  falling  from 
the  tables  of  their  more  favored  juniors.  Not  once  did  I  enter 
a  school-house,  during  a  three  months'  residence  in  Athens, 
without  witnessing  this  extraordinary  spectacle.  In  the  Uni- 
versity, where  I  constantly  attended  three  or  four  courses  of 
lectures,  I  saw  the  same  spirit  manifesting  itself.  The  vener- 
able Professor  Asopios,  now  over  seventy,  was  expounding  the 
Iliad  to  a  numerous  class,  all  of  whom,  including  many  theo- 
ogical  students,  were  busily  engaged  in  taking  notes.  Profes- 
sor Philippos  Johannis,  one  of  the  most  admirable  of  men,  gave 
a  course  on  Moral  Philosophy,  and  his  lecture-room  was  always 
crowded ;  and  I  will  say,  that  I  never  listened  to  a  more  excel- 
lent and  high-toned  course  in  that  branch  of  science,  and  that 
I  never  knew  a  man  who  better  illustrated  the  purity  of  hi* 


PREACHING.  519 

doctrines  by  the  purity  of  his  life.  I  might  go  on  with  other 
proofs  of  the  intellectual  receptivity  of  the  people  and  the  rapid 
progress  they  are  making ;  but  I  will  merely  add,  on  this  head, 
that  the  Church  already  feels  the  benefit  of  this  increasing 
culture  quite  as  much  as  the  laity.  Professor  Kontogones  and 
Professor  Pharmakides  are  inspiring  the  younger  clergy  with  a 
liberal  and  scholarly  spirit,  which  will  speedily  disarm  of  all  its 
force  the  already  waning  fanaticism  of  the  old  school. 

It  is  strangely  asserted  by  an  English  writer,  who  has  recent- 
ly visited  Greece,  that  preaching  forms  no  part  of  the  religious 
services  of  the  Greek  Church,  and  that  in  a  visit  of  two  months 
at  Athens,  so  far  from  hearing  a  sermon,  he  never  could  hear 
of  such  a  thing  as  a  sermon.  I  cannot  explain  so  monstrous  a 
blunder,  except  by  supposing  that  the  writer  carried  with  him 
the  English  habit  of  lying  in  bed  till  nine  or  ten  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  The  Greeks,  like  their  ancestors,  are  early  risers. 
As  the  old  Athenians  went  to  the  theatre  by  the  dawn  of  day, 
so  the  moderns  go  to  church  by  sunrise.  Before  an  English- 
man gets  his  breakfast,  the  longest  service,  including  an  excel- 
lent sermon,  is  over  in  Athens.  I  can  only  say,  that,  so  far 
from  the  sermon's  forming  no  portion  of  the  Greek  services,  the 
Holy  Synod  set  apart  a  certain  number  of  the  priests  —  those 
who  show  a  special  gift  for  sacred  eloquence,  called  Iepotcrjpoice<; 
—  for  the  expi'ess  work  of  preaching;  but  they  allow  no  others 
to  preach  ;  and  this  limitation,  I  think,  is  not  unworthy  the 
attention  of  some  other  ecclesiastical  bodies.  I  have  myself 
risen  very  early  to  hear  a  sermon  from  Mr.  Metrophanes,  the 
most  eloquent  preacher  in  Athens,  and,  I  will  add,  one  of  the 
most  agreeable,  liberal,  and  scholarly  men  in  that  profession 
anywhere.  On  one  occasion  I  went  to  hear  him  on  the  day 
of  St.  Demetrius.  The  church  was  crowded  to  overflowing 
when  the  sun  was  scarcely  peering  above  Hymettus ;  but  see- 
ing a  stranger,  and  hearing  from  one  who  knew  me  that  I  was 
an  Ufiept«ai/o9,  they  made  way  for  me  to  enter,  and,  with  that 
courtesy  which  I  always  and  everywhere  experienced,  placed 
tne  in  a  very  convenient  proximity  to  the  pulpit,  that  I  might 


520  MODERN   GREECE. 

hear  to  the  best  advantage.  The  clearness  of  the  style  and 
the  distinctness  of  the  enunciation  enabled  me  to  follow  the 
discourse  without  the  slightest  difficulty ;  and  I  have  seldom 
listened  to  a  better  sermon,  or  one.  more  practically  applicable 
to  the  condition  of  the  hearers.  So  much  for  the  assertion 
that  the  Greeks  have  no  preaching. 

I  have  said  a  few  words  upon  the  present  condition  of  the 
language.  I  must  barely  touch  upon  the  current  literature. 
There  are  published  in  Athens  about  thirty  newspapers,  two 
or  three  literary  journals,  and  a  Journal  of  Antiquities,  —  most 
of  them  written  with  talent,  and  some,  as  the  "Panhellenian," 
which  was  commenced  while  I  was  there,  quite  equal  in  ele- 
gance of  style  and  power  of  argument  to  the  best  journals  of 
Paris  and  London.  Professor  Paparregopoulos  has  written  an 
excellent  summary  of  the  history  of  Greece  ;  and  Spiridon 
Tricoupi  is  now  publishing  a  history  of  the  Revolution,  which 
will  take  its  place  among  the  classics  of  his  country.  Parlia- 
mentary eloquence  is  at  least  respectable.  I  have  listened  to 
debates  in  the  legislature  which  would  ha'7e  done  no  discredit 
to  much  older  senates. 

With  regard  to  the  poetical  development  of  the  nation,  there 
is  a  distinction  to  be  made  between  the  cultivated  poetry  and 
the  popular  poetry.  The  latter  has  not  yet  attained  its  com- 
pleted growth.  Yet  the  works  of  Rangabes  ;  the  Tragedies, 
on  the  death  of  Karaiskakes  and  other  national  subjects,  by 
Zampelios  ;  the  poetical  works  of  Soutsos  ;  two  or  three  pieces 
by  a  young  poet  named  Zalocostas,  especially  one  on  Meso- 
longi,  which  was  crowned  in  1851  with  the  prize  offered  for 
annual  competition  by  Mr.  Ralles,  a  distinguished  Greek  mer- 
chant in  Trieste  ;  and  the  poems  of  others  still,  of  rising  talent, 
—  give  rich  promise  for  the  future. 

At  present,  the  most  characteristic  feature  in  the  poetical 
literature  of  the  Greeks  is  the  popular  poetry,  including,  in  this 
designation,  the  works  of  Christopoulos,  who,  though  a  man  of 
education,  has  written  in  the  popular  dialect  the  most  naive 
and  charming  songs,  depicting  the  festive  side  of  Hellenic  pop- 


POETRY.  521 

alar  life  with  infinite  grace  and  picturesque  effect.  I  now  refer, 
however,  more  especially  to  the  poetry  of  the  people  them- 
selves. Like  the  ancients,  the  present  Hellenic  race  have  a  vein 
of  natural  poetry,  which  crops  out  on  all  the  occurrences  of  life, 
—  birth,  death,  separation,  departure  for  a  foreign  country,  — 
in  the  most  simple  and  unpremeditated  style.  A  large  propor- 
tion of  this  poetry  exists  only  on  the  lips  of  the  people,  most 
of  it  having  never  been  reduced  to  writing  at  all.  The  first 
collection  ever  made  was  by  Fauriel,  published  in  1824  and 
1825.  It  excited  great  attention  in  Europe.  Goethe,  then  the 
undisputed  monarch  of  Continental  literature,  pronounced  it 
the  most  natural  and  genuine  poetry  of  artless  feeling  and  un- 
sophisticated nature  which  had  been  given  to  the  world  in  our 
times.  Much  has  since  been  added  commemorative  of  the 
events  of  the  war,  and  several  collections  have  been  made. 
Other  collections  are  now  making.  I  have  in  my  possession  a 
few  pieces  that  have  never  been  published.  Mr.  Wyse,  to 
whom  no  subject  of  letters  or  art  is  indifferent,  employs  some 
of  his  leisure,  it  is  understood,  in  gathering  up  these  scattered 
leaves.  It  will  not  be  long,  however,  before  this  period  of 
popular  poetry  will  have  passed,  and  the  dialects  in  which  they 
are  composed  will  have  become,  through  the  general  diffusion 
of  education,  obsolete  curiosities  for  the  researches  of  the  mous- 
ing antiquarian.  They  ought,  therefore,  to  be  at  once  placed 
beyond  the  search  of  casualty.  The  old  women  in  the  moun- 
tain villages,  whose  memories  are  the  exhaustless  treasuries  of 
this  rythmical  lore,  will  not  live  forever,  though  some  of  them 
look  as  though  they  might. 

The  popular  life,  to  which  I  have  alluded,  includes  that  of 
the  Klephts  and  Armatoles ;  life  on  the  islands,  as  well  as  on 
the  mainland  ;  life  in  the  valleys,  as  well  as  on  the  mountains ; 
and  these  poems,  which  depict  it,  run  back  indefinitely  into 
the  Turkish  times.  Love  and  marriage,  funerals,  feasts,  the 
death-scene,  the  sorrows  of  absent  love,  the  joys  of  victory 
and  revenge,  the  fortitude  which  bears  torture  without  a 
groan,  and  the  courage  which  defies  and  dauntlessly  enco-an- 


522  MODERN   GREECE. 

ters  an  overwhelming  array  of  foemen,  —  these  and  every 
feature  in  every  scene  of  popular  Hellenic  life,  and  every 
feeling  of  the  simple,  fresh  Hellenic  heart,  are  rhythmically 
embodied  in  the  poetical  literature  of  the  nation.  In  these 
songs  we  sometimes  find  strange  echoes  of  old  Greek  poetry, 
still  reverberating  among  the  mountains.  Charon,  the  ferry- 
man of  the  Styx  among  the  ancients,  has  become  a  mysterious 
minister  of  death,  hanging  invisibly  over  the  doomed,  or  sweep- 
ing like  a  storm  over  the  mountains,  on  horseback,  with  the 
ghosts  of  the  dead  at  his  saddle-bow.  The  birds,  whose  voices 
and  flight  were  full  of  omens  to  the  ancients,  and  of  whom 
Aristophanes  quotes  the  proverb,  "  No  one  knows  except  the 
birds,"  in  modern  poetry  are  endowed  with  speech,  and  with 
supernatural  powers  of  vision,  and  often  appear  as  collocutors 
in  the  abruptly  changing  dialogue.  The  measure  in  which 
most  of  these  poems  are  composed  is  the  accented  iambic  of 
fifteen  syllables ;  every  second  syllable  being  accented,  and  the 
final  one  unaccented. 

I  close  this  sketch  with  a  few  short  specimens  on  different 
subjects.  I  have  carefully  abstained  from  adding  ornaments, 
and  have  translated  them  line  for  line,  with  the  same  rhythm 
as  the  original.  The  brevity  and  abruptness  of  the  style, 
the  rapidity  of  the  narrative,  and  the  racy  simplicity  of  the 
dialectic  peculiarities,  can  scarcely  be  reproduced  in  another 
language  ;  and  the  charm  they  possess,  when  read  or  heard  in 
the  open  air,  on  the  mountains  of  Greece,  with  the  life  they 
embody  all  around,  and  the  scenery  that  suggested  their  color- 
ing meeting  the  eye  at  every  turn,  can  scarcely  be  imagined 
where  these  accessories  —  the  background  of  the  picture  — 
are  wanting. 

The  first  I  shall  give  is  called 

"LOVE  DETECTED. 
"Maiden,  we  kissed,  but  'twas  at  night ;  and  who,  think'st  thou,  beheld  cj 
The  night  beheld,  the  morn  beheld,  the  moon  and  star  of  evening ; 
The  star  dropped  earthward  from  the  sky,  and  told  the  sea  the  story  ; 
The  sea  at  once  the  rudder  told,  the  rudder  told  the  sailor  j 
The  sailor  sang  it  at  the  door,  where  sat  his  sweetheart  listening  " 


ADVENTURES   OF  TRAVEL.  523 

My  second  specimen  describes  the  death-scene  of  a  Klepht, 
tvho,  for  a  wonder,  lived  to  old  age,  and  died  without  a  bullet. 
It  combines,  in  a  curious  way,  the  strong  contrasts  and  oppo- 
site feelings  of  the  Klephtic  character.  It  is  a  strange  com- 
pound of  piety,  gunpowder,  and  the  simple  love  of  nature. 
Its  hero  is  resolved,  after  death,  to  have  a  shot  now  and  then 
at  the  Turks.  To  understand  its  simple  allusions,  we  must  re- 
member that  such  a  family,  living  for  the  most  part  in  the  open 
air,  would  always  select  the  bank  of  a  moving  stream  for  their 
supper-table,  and  would  drink  water — when  they  had  no  wine. 
It  is  called 

"THE   DYING   CHIEF. 

"  The  sun  was  setting  in  the  west  when  Demos  gave  his  orders  : 
'  Hasten,  my  children,  to  the  brook,  to  eat  your  bread  at  evening ; 
And  then,  Lampsakis,  nephew  mine,  come,  take  thy  seat  before  me. 
Here  !  wear  the  arms  that  now  I  wear,  and  be  a  valiant  captain. 
And  ye,  my  children,  take  my  sword,  deserted  by  its  master, 
And  cut  green  branches  from  the  trees,  and  spread  a  couch  to  rest  me  ; 
And  hither  bring  the  holy  man,  that  he  may  haste  to  shrive  me, 
That  I  may  tell  him  all  the  sins  I  ever  have  committed 
While  thirty  years  an  Armatole,  and  twenty-five  a  robber. 
But  now  the  conqueror  Death  has  come,  and  I  for  death  am  ready. 
Build  me  a  broad  and  spacious  tomb,  and  let  the  mound  be  lofty, 
That  I  may  stand  erect  and  fire,  then  stoop  and  load  the  musket ; 
And  on  the  right  hand  of  the  tomb  a  window  leave  wide  open, 
That  swallows  in  their  flight  may  come,  the  early  spring  announcing, 
And  nightingales  of  lovely  May  in  morning  song  may  tell  me." 

To  these  sketches  I  will  add  one  or  two  illustrations  of 
Grecian  life,  from  my  own  experiences,  in  the  ups  and  downa 
of  a  horseback  journey  of  twenty-one  days  through  the  most 
historical  and  poetical  parts  of  Greece.  I  did  not  set  out  until 
about  the  middle  of  November,  being  desirous  of  studying 
Athens,  and  accustoming  my  ear  as  much  as  possible  to  the 
lauguage  before  visiting  the  interior.  An  English  gentleman 
arriving  from  Constantinople  at  that  time,  we  joined  company. 
We  took  a  guide,  Strattis  the  Lesbian,  a  good-natured,  honest 
fellow,  very  familiar  with  the  country  ;  a  cook,  named  Yanni 
Bulgari ;  three  donkeys  to  carry  the  provisions  and  luggage ; 


024  MODERN   GREECE. 

Panaghiotti,  in  charge  of  the  horses ;  another  Yanni,  to  take 
care  of  the  donkeys  ;  a  boy,  with  no  name  in  particular,  to 
help  him  ;  and  a  little  dog  named  Walnut,  who  picks  up  an 
honest  living  by  going  with  parties  of  travellers,  and  whose 
name  —  he  having  made  the  tour  of  Greece  several  times  — 
we  changed  from  Walnut  to  Pausanias.  The  plan  of  our 
journey  was  laid  out  beforehand.  The  day  before  we  started, 
I  dined  at  the  British  Minister's,  in  company  with  General 
Church.  He  inquired  the  route  by  which  we  intended 
to  go  to  Thebes  ;  and  when  I  told  him,  by  the  Pass  of 
Phyle,  he  advised  me  to  take  another  route,  as  not  only  was 
the  Pass  of  Phyle  very  rough,  but  within  a  few  days  reports 
had  been  circulated  of  depredations  committed  by  robbers. 
This  was  not  altogether  pleasant ;  but  after  due  considera- 
tion, we  made  up  our  minds  that,  robbers  or  no  robbers, 
we  must  see  the  fortress  where  Thrasybulus  gathered  the 
exiles  who  overthrew  the  government  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants. 
We  started,  with  all  our  train,  on  the  15th  of  November. 
Just  as  we  had  crossed  the  Plain  of  Athens,  and  were  entering 
the  rugged  mountain  path,  we  met  four  robbers,  who  were 
inarching  down  to  Athens,  under  the  guard  of  a  strong  body  of 
police,  with  their  hands  tied  behind  them.  We  were  led  by 
this  spectacle  to  moralize  on  the  importance  of  selecting  the 
fitting  moment  for  the  execution  of  any  human  project,  since 
it  was  quite  obvious  that  the  difference  was  very  great  between 
meeting  these  hang-dog  looking  villains  the  day  after  and 
meeting  them  the  day  before  their  arrest. 

The  view  from  the  fortress  of  Phyle  was  considered  by 
Byron  the  most  beautiful  in  Greece.  It  is  difficult  to  say 
which  is  the  most  beautiful ;  so  many  of  them  seem,  as  you 
come  in  sight  of  them,  to  surpass  all  you  have  seen  before. 
The  ascent  was  wild  and  rugged  ;  but  from  the  old  Hellenic 
walls  you  look  back  through  the  wooded  gorge,  over  the  plain 
and  city  of  Athens,  and  take  into  the  range  of  vision  a  variety 
of  objects  whose  natural  beauty  and  associated  interest  almost 
make  the  senses  ache  with  beholding  them.    The  pine  grove  or 


ADVENTURES   OF    TRAVEL.  525 

the  mountain  heights  responded  to  the  freshly  blowing  breezes 
in  melancholy  music,  and  the  swift  clouds,  sweeping  over  the 
distant  cliffs,  well  explained  the  imagery  of  Charon  and  the 
ghosts.  The  next  day  we  descended,  by  a  rough  and  rocky 
path,  into  the  rich  plains  of  Boeotia,  with  Mounts  Cithseron, 
Helicon,  and  Parnassus  all  in  sight,  and  the  citadel  of  Thebes 
rising  gradually  on  the  view.  As  we  approached  the  city,  it 
was  impossible  not  to  recall  the  old  mythical  renown  of  Laius 
and  (Edipus,  their  doomed  house,  and  all  the  tragic  woes  of 
which  yonder  Cadmeia  was  the  scene  ;  the  historical  greatness 
of  Epaminondas  and  Pelopidas ;  the  poetic  glories  of  Pindar ; 
and,  finally,  the  alphabetic  immortality  of  Cadmus,  who  here 
first  introduced  the  knowledge  of  letters  to  the  European  world. 

Busy  with  these  thronging  memories,  I  approached  the  bank 
of  the  consecrated  Ismenus,  a  beautiful  stream  flowing  east  of 
the  city.  I  let  my  horse  follow  his  own  way,  and  his  own  way 
led  him  into  the  middle  of  the  current.  I  noticed  the  course  he 
was  taking ;  but  supposing  he  wanted  merely  to  drink  of  the 
sacred  river,  and,  approving  his  taste,  I  did  not  interfere.  But 
while  I  was  thinking  of  Sophocles  and  Antigone,  my  horse 
was  thinking  of  a  cold  bath,  and,  suddenly  rolling  over,  rolled 
me  over  with  him  into  the  water.  As  I  emerged  dripping  from 
the  involuntary  plunge,  my  ears  were  saluted  by  the  most 
unearthly  roars,  which  I  took  at  first  to  be  from  the  chorus  of 
maidens  in  the  "  Seven  against  Thebes."  It  proved,  however, 
to  be  a  troop  of  a  dozen  or  twenty  Theban  washerwomen,  who 
paused  in  their  labors,  a  few  feet  off,  at  the  Dircean  fountain, 
and  made  the  air  vocal  with  peal  upon  peal  of  inextinguishable 
laughter.  I  was  obliged  to  ride  several  hours  in  the  condition 
described  by  Mr.  Mantalini,  —  "  a  damp,  disagreeable  body"; 
but  consoled  myself  with  the  reflection,  that,  if  I  had  incurred 
a  ducking,  it  was  a  highly  classic  one. 

In  Greece  the  winter  is  called  %€ifjka)v,  —  the  pouring  sea- 
son. This  commences  generally  in  November ;  and  here  "  it 
never  rains  but  it  pours."  It  is  not  the  time  usually  selected 
by  travellers  for  an  inland  tour;   but  it  has  its  advantages. 


526  MODERN   GREECE. 

There  is  no  land  in  the  world  so  smiling  in  sunshine  or  s*j 
frowning  in  storm.  The  traveller  who  has  seen  Hellas  only 
in  fair  weather,  has  seen  but  one  aspect  of  the  country,  —  most 
beautiful,  indeed,  but  not  more  characteristic,  and  not  so  grand 
and  imposing,  as  when  Zeus  the  Showery  rules  the  hour, 
especially  among  the  mountains.  The  wild  appearance  of 
the  clouds,  the  roar  of  the  wind,  the  sudden  leaping  forth  of 
the  torrents,  which  seem  in  a  moment  to  spring  from  their 
mountain-beds  and  dash  down  the  channelled  slopes,  sweeping 
all  before  them  precisely  as  Homer  describes  them,  the  crash- 
ing thunder  and  the  curled  lightning,  present  a  picture  of 
elemental  warfare  such  as  I  had  nowhere  else  seen.  This  was 
the  weather  we  encountered,  with  intervals  of  the  loveliest  sun- 
shine, the  lovelier  by  the  contrast.  After  crossing  the  Boeotian 
plains  and  the  field  of  Leuctra,  visiting  Thebes,  and  galloping 
over  Plataea,  we  reached  and  ascended  one  of  the  acclivities 
of  Helicon  on  the  third  day.  Here  we  were  delighted  with  a 
succession  of  scenes  of  the  rarest  beauty,  and  could  well  under- 
stand why  the  Muses  found  these  lovely  heights  so  attractive  a 
resort.  The  sides  of  the  ridges  were  covered  with  myrtles, 
oaks,  and  plane-trees,  splendidly  colored  with  the  hues  of  au- 
tumn ;  and  the  fountain  of  Aganippe  sent  forth  its  sweet  waters 
to  refresh  the  thirsty  traveller,  and  to  fill  his  mind  with  the 
most  delightful  associations  of  other  days. 

We  were  on  the  slope  of  Helicon,  with  Parnassus  full  in 
sight.     Gray  says, 

"  From  Helicon's  harmonious  springs 
A  thousand  streams  their  mazy  courses  take." 

One  of  these  streams  had  worn  a  deep  gully  directly  across  our 
path.  My  Thessalian  charger  was  generally  sure-footed ;  but 
in  attempting  to  leap  across,  down  he  went,  and  pitched  me  head 
foremost  upon  the  opposite  bank.  I  was  a  good  deal  bruised ; 
and  my  hat,  which  had  long  ceased  to  be  the  Xafiirpov  Trpaypa 
it  was  described  by  the  shopman  when  I  bought  it  in  Athens, 
came  out  of  this  adventure  a  good  deal  the  worse  for  wear, 
But  the  most  irreparable  damage  was  done  by  making  a  terri- 


ADVENTURES   OF  TRAVEL  527 

ble  rent  in  the  elbow  of  my  coat.  A  bruise,  a  scratch,  a  torn 
skin,  Nature  repairs;  but  who  can  mend  a  garment  in  those 
tailorless  solitudes  ?  And  think  of  being  out  at  the  elbows  on 
the  side  of  Helicon  and  in  sight  of  Parnassus  !  But  as  I  re- 
membered that  those  unfortunate  gentlemen  who  spend  their 
lives  in  dancing  attendance  upon  the  Muses,  and  in  attempting 
to  climb  the  Heliconian  and  Parnassian  heights,  are  out  at  the 
elbows  in  their  normal  condition-,  I  consoled  myself  with  the 
thought  that  there  was  a  dash  of  the  poetical  in  the  situation, 
and  that  perhaps  I  was  destined  to  write  an  epic.  With  various 
aches  and  contusions,  I  climbed  again  into  the  saddle.  We 
journeyed  on  through  scenes  of  incomparable  beauty.  The 
many-colored  trees  shone  as  brilliantly  as  an  American  forest  in 
autumn ;  the  marble  summits  of  the  mountains,  rising  on  either 
side  above  the  zone  of  cedars  that  encircled  their  waists  with  a 
belt  of  green,  closed  in  the  picture  as  with  a  sculptured  frame. 
But  in  a  short  time  the  picture  changed.  The  clouds,  which 
had  been  hanging  at  a  distance  all  day,  now  thickened,  and 
Showery  Zeus  became  more  ominous  and  threatening.  The 
thunder  rolled  and  the  lightning  played  along  the  summits  of 
Helicon  and  Parnassus.  We  had  just  time  to  reach  a  hamlet 
of  a  few  huts,  called  Cotumala,  and  take  shelter  from  the 
deluge  that  suddenly  descended. 

One  more  passage  of  travel  will  finish  all  I  propose  to  say 
upon  this  head.  Two  or  three  days  after  the  Heliconian 
storm,  we  reached  the  Pass  of  Thermopylae,  so  magnificent  in 
its  surrounding  scenery,  so  interesting  in  its  historical  associa- 
tions. Descending  from  the  precipitous  mountains  which  shut 
it  in  by  the  path  which  the  immortal  Leonidas  followed  with 
his  three  hundred  Spartans,  we  visited  the  mound  where 
their  bodies  were  buried,  and  galloped  over  the  ground  of  the 
battle,  admiring  the  wild,  varied,  and  most  appropriate  sublimity 
of  the  scene.  What  sound  strikes  on  the  ear  ?  What  sight 
meets  the  eye  ?  The  hot  springs,  from  which  the  pass  takes 
its  name,  now  turn  a  miu,  grinding  night  and  day  corn  for 
the  five-and«twenty  villages.      I  tnought  Leonidas   and   his 


528  MODERN   GREECE. 

three  hundred  would  have  broken  loose  from  yonder  mound, 
and  razed  such  a  desecration  of  the  place  to  the  earth.  We 
found  there  Demakedes,  the  owner,  the  eldest  of  the  four 
unmarried  brothers  of  whom  I  spoke  in  the  last  Lecture. 
He  received  us  with  great  hospitality,  and  baked  a  huge  loaf 
of  wheaten  bread  ;  and  when  I  saw  it  taken  smoking  from 
the  embers,  I  was  glad  Leonidas  and  his  three  hundred  slept 
quietly  where  they  were.  The  building  was  of  composite  or- 
der, made  up  of  a  grist-mill  and  a  castle  of  the  Middle  Ages ; 
the  lower  part  being  the  mill,  and  the  upper  room,  to  which 
we  ascended  by  a  ladder,  being  furnished  with  pistols,  guns, 
and  yataghans,  and  pierced  with  portholes  commanding  ev- 
ery approach.  I  almost  hoped  there  would  be  a  descent  of 
robbers  from  the  neighboring  mountains,  the  means  of  de- 
fence seemed  so  ample,  and  the  mill,  below,  furnished  such 
an  iridefinite  supply  of  provisions.  I  think  we  might  have 
stood  a  siege  of  many  months.  We  were  at  least  as  strong 
as  Sebastopol. 

Our  host  invited  us  to  stay  over  the  following  day  and  par- 
take of  a  Klephtic  feast.  The  invitation  was  too  tempting  to 
be  resisted.  Now  a  Klephtic  feast  is  the  most  classical  and 
Homeric  tiling  that  has  come  down  from  past  ages,  and  is  to 
be  had  nowhere  except  in  the  wilder  and  more  primitive  re- 
gions of  Greece.  One  of  the  men  went  up  into  the  mountains, 
and  procured  a  kid.  The  kid  was  spitted  on  a  long  pole  — 
with  extemporaneous  sausages  made  out  of  himself,  and  filled 
with  his  own  liver  and  lights,  twisted  round  his  body  —  and 
then  roasted  by  an  enormous  wood-fire,  two  men  holding  the 
ends  of  the  pole.  Other  men  brought  in  huge  armfuls  of 
myrtle-branches  freshly  gathered,  which,  being  spread  out, 
formed  the  table.  The  sausages —  airXayxva,  as  Homer  calls 
them  —  were  first  served  up,  about  three  inches  being  distrib- 
uted to  each  guest.  Next  came  the  kid,  piping  hot,  on  the 
spit.  It  was  "skilfully  divided"  with  a  kind  of  sword,  and 
"laid  in  order  due"  upon  the  myrtle-branches ;  and  all  things 
being  prepared,  we  stretched  forth  our  hands  —  literally,  aj 


ADVENTUKES   OF   TRAVEL.  529 

Homer  says  (we  would  not  have  used  our  knives  and  forks 
for  the  world)  —  to  the  meat  that  was  placed  before  us,  while 
our  host  poured  out  copious  libations  of  Hellenic  wine.  The 
feast  was  followed,  again  in  strict  Homeric  fashion,  by  the 
singing  of  songs.  Half  a  dozen  wild-looking  fellows  were 
called  in,  and  for  two  hours  chanted  in  their  peculiar  manner 
a  series  of  poems  on  various  subjects,  —  battle-songs,  lamen- 
tations for  the  dead,  one  for  Marco  Botzares,  and  love-songs. 
It  was  a  piquant  circumstance  in  the  entertainment  of  the 
evening  that — the  Coryphaeus,  or  leader  of  the  band,  show- 
ing a  peculiar  animation  in  singing  one  of  the  pieces,  which 
describes  the  robbers  of  Mount  Olympus  —  I  was  led  to  ask 
an  explanation  of  his  apparently  excited  feelings,  and  was  told 
that  he  had  been  himself  for  eleven  years  a  robber  on  Mount 
Olympus,  though  he  was  now  a  peaceable  miller ;  and  the 
poem  which  rekindled  this  spark  of  Klephtic  feeling  in  my 
honest  friend,  Basilios,  the  son  of  Christopoulos,  was  one 
which  1  had  myself  translated  three  years  before 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


GENERAL    INDEX  . 


A bdul  Medjid,  Sultan  of  Turkey,  His 
character  and  his  treatment  of  Chris- 
tians, II;  270. 

Aberdeen,  George  Hamilton-Gordon, 
Earl  of,  II.  480,  484.  A  despatch 
of,  quoted,  269,  270. 

Academy,  Purchase  of  the,  H.  30, 
31. 

Achilles  Tatius,  cited,  I.  178,  338, 
392. 

Acropolis,  Description  of  the,  II. 
140,  141. 

Adamantius,  cited,  I.  281. 

Adams,  Dr.  Francis,  quoted,  I.  409, 412. 

,<Elian,  cited,  I.  172. 

jEmiliub  Paulus  and  Olympian  Zeus, 
I.  454. 

^Eolians,  I.  76,  77,  149.  Their  char- 
acter, I.  286. 

iEolic  poetry,  I.  147,  149,  166-182. 

jEschines,  II.  78,  206.  His  father,  I. 
282.  His  attack  on  Demosthenes,  I. 
361,  495-497;  II.  124,  229,  233- 
245.  His  classification  of  govern- 
ments, 1. 474.  Quoted,  II.  86.  Ac- 
count of,  212-215. 

jEschyltjs,  I.  74,  129,  158,  198,  202- 
205,  218,  242,  243,  470,  503,  508, 
509 ;  II.  278.  Beaten  by  Simon- 
ides,  I.  157.  A  soldier,  190;  H. 
118,  122.  Account  of,  and  extracts 
from  the  "Oresteia,"  I.  206-213. 
Compared  with  Sophocles  and  Eurip- 
ides, 214,  232.  His  plays  brought 
out  at  Constantinople,  253 ;  copies 
of  them  in  the  Athenian  archives,  II. 
209.  Quotations  from  the  "  Seven 
against  Thebes,"  I.  390 ;  from  the 
Agamemnon,  L  J>08f  II.  31., 

African  languages,  I.  26,  27. 

Aoacle,  I.  180. 

Aoatharchus,  compelled  to  paint  the 
house  of  Alcibiades,  I.  339. 

Agathiab,  II.  375. 


Agathon,  Feast  of,  I.  357,  364,  367, 
372,  433. 

Agesilaus  II.,  King  of  Sparta,  Say- 
ings of,  I.  184. 

Agis  II.,  King  of  Sparta,  Sayings  of, 
I.  422. 

Agis  IV.,  King  of  Sparta,  II.  63. 

Agoeatus,  Speech  of  Lysias  against, 
H.  177-179. 

Alceus,    II.   284.     Account  of,   and 
•  extracts  from  his  poems,  1. 168-171. 
Cited,  177,  284. 

Alcibiades,  I.  364,  367,  372,  II.  109, 
150,  161,  167,  196.  Compels  Aga- 
tharchus  to  paint  his  house,  I.  339. 
His  praise  of  Socrates,  461. 

Alciphbon,  Extract  from,  on  his  bar- 
ber, I.  386.   Letter  of  Menander,  503. 

Alcman,  Account  and  poem  of,  I.  186, 
187.  His  poems  learned  by  heart  in 
the  Spartan  schools,  I.  421. 

Alexander  the  Great,  I.  386,  II.  238. 
And  Pindar,  1. 190.  And  Aristotle, 
I.  432,  479,  II.  276.  His  influence 
on  Asia,  275,  276.  His  career  and 
death,  I.  367,  II.  206,  207. 

Alexandria,  II.  276-278,  298,  299. 

Alexis,  comic  poet,  I.  244.  Verses  of, 
on  fishmongers,  377,  378  Quota- 
tion from,  405. 

Alfieri,  Vittorio,  Count,  compared 
with  Euripides,  I.  242. 

Ali  Pacha,  H.  394,  395,  413,  436. 

Alphabet,  Origin  of  the,  I.  40- 
54.  Basque,  13,  46.  Chinese,  43- 
46.  Egyptian,  40,  46-49.  Cunei- 
form, 50-52.  Zend  and  Sanskrit, 
52,  53.     Phoenician,  13,  52-54. 

Alypios,  I.  141. 

Amelia,  Princess  of  Oldenburg,  Queen 
of  Greece,  II.  473-475,  495,  511. 

Amphion,  I.  76,  277. 

Amphis,  Verses  of,  on  fishmongers,  I 
377 


534 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Anacreon,  Odes  of,  1. 163.  His  char- 
acter, 164.     Not  a  lover  of  Sappho, 

175,  176.     Cited,  361,  391. 
Anaxagobas,  I.  433,  II.  126.     Philos- 
ophy of,  1. 459.     Prosecuted,  II.  135. 

Andocides,  Charge  of,  against  Alci- 
biades,  I.  339.  Account  of,  II.  167 
-170. 

Androuzos,  II.  412,  413. 

Animals,  Language  of,  I.  9. 

Anna  Comnena,  II.  385.  Account  of, 
and  extract  from  her  "Alexias,"  LT. 
375-379. 

Antalcidas,  Saying  of,  I.  184.  The 
Peace  of,  II.  172. 

Anthology,  Song  from  the,  I.  368. 
Quoted,  454. 

Antioch,  II.  298,  300,  301. 

Antiphanes,  cited,  I.  370. 

Antiphon,  the  orator,  II.  150.  Ac- 
count of,  II.  162-167. 

Anyte,  I.  180. 

Apicius,  Anecdote  of,  I.  146. 

Apollo,  Oracles  of,  I.  448-450. 

Apollodorus,  of  Phaleron,  II.  200. 

Apollonius  Rhodius,  I.  251,11.  288. 

Aratus,  I.  251. 

Archestratus,  quoted,  I.  360,  374. 

Archilochus,  I.  169,  172.  Account 
of,  and  extracts  from  his  poems,  1 52 
-155.     Nottheloverof  Sappho,  175, 

176.  Quoted,  283. 

Archons,  II.  93,  100. 

Archytas,  inventor  of  the  child's  rat- 
tle, I.  426. 

Areopagus,  II.  97,  101,  110,  128. 

Argos,  Congress  at,  II.  468. 

Argyropodlos,  Joannes,  II.  388. 

Argyropoulos,  Pericles,  II.  497,  518. 
Quoted,  249. 

Ariphron,  Poem  of,  I.  281. 

Aristeidbs  the  Just,  I.  306,  II.  108, 
109.     His  conservatism,  114,  119. 

Aristeides,  Publius  JElius,  surnamed 
Theodorus,  1.441. 

Aristeides  Quintilianus,  1.141, 440. 

Aristodemus,  I.  372. 

Aristogeiton,  Translation  of  the  Ode 
to,  I.  371. 

Ariston,  Saying  of,  I.  185. 

Aristophanes,  I.  139,  204,  284,  327, 
361,  372,  II.  152,  174,  522.  And 
Moliere,  I.  242.  Ridicules  Euripi- 
des, 215;  Socrates,  II.  197.  Ac- 
count of,  and  extracts  from  his  plays, 


I.  228-240.  Analysis  of  "The 
Wasps,"  II.  103-106;  "The 
Knights,"  156-161.  Quotations 
from  the  "  Lysistrata,"  I.  183,  401. 

II.  66 ;  "  The  Birds,"  I.  276,  323, 
456 ;  "  The  Clouds,"  424,  425,  436, 
"The  Acharnians,"  II.  130.  His 
political  allusions,  I.  509  -511.  The 
slaves  in  his  plays,  II.  32. 

Abistotle,  I.  386,  407,  438,  442,  II. 
15,  60,  174,  220,  279,  379.     Cited 

I.  58,  60,  130,  141,  172,  276,  282. 
360,  403,  473,  505,  H.  25,  56,  58, 
101,  107.  On  slavery,  I.  486,  II.  40 
-45.  On  Spartan  women,  67.  His 
"Polity,"  I.  476,  479-484,  II.  204. 
His  "  Rhetoric,"  125.  His  "  Logic," 
346.     Contrasted  with  Plato,  I.  479, 

II.  41.     His  library,  I.  499,  501. 
Aristoxenus,  I.  141. 
Armansperg,  J.  L.,   Count  von,  II 

470. 
Armatoli,  H.  403-407. 
Armor,  I.  389-391. 
Arnold,  Professor  A.  N.,  II.  506. 
Arrian,  II.  288. 
Art,  Grecian,  1.391,  II.  136,  sqq. ; 

Byzantine,  H.  345. 
Artemisia,  of  Halicamassus,  I.  173. 
Arvieux,  Laurent  d',  quoted,  H.  395. 
Asclepiades,  I.  140.     Industry  of,  I. 

394. 
Asopios,  Professor,  II.  518. 
Aspasia,   I.  234,  433.      Accused,  II. 

135. 
Astarloa,  P.  P.  de,  I.  13. 
Astronomy,  I.  456. 

ASTYDAMAS,  I.  243. 

Athanasids,  II.  309.  Account  of,  II. 
321. 

Atheneus,  I.  293.  His  "  Deipnoso- 
phistffi,"  145,  146,  367,  371.  Cited, 
140,  177,  281,  341,  360,  370,  371, 
374,  393,  394,  404,  487. 

Athens,  I.  150,  188.  Deserved  the 
eulogy  of  Pericles,  306-309.  Its 
early  history,  I.  221,  II.  72,  sqq. ; 
later  history,  I.  196,  197.  Its  pov- 
erty after  the  fall  of  Constantinople, 
315-317.  Dukedom  of,  260,  312- 
315,  II.  357-359.  The  Turks 
driven  from,  in  1687,  392,  393.  Uft 
der  the  Turks,  400  -  402.  Captured 
by  Reschid  Pacha,  445-450.  De 
scription  of,  by  Dicsearchus,  I.  289, 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


535 


290.     Topography  of,  I.  485,  II.  73. 

Description   of,   in  1853,  498-500. 

Topography  of  modern,  138-145. 

Note.  —  Other  matters  concerning  Ath- 
ens are  referred  to  under  special  heads, 
as  Drama,  Dress,  Finance,  etc. 
Atlantis,  Story  of,  II.  72,  82,  86. 
Atmosphere  of  Greece,  II.  10. 
Attica,  Political  relation  to   Athens 

of,  II.  99. 
Attila,  II.  307. 
Aurispa,  II.  387. 
Austria,  II.  418,  419,  453. 
Avakim,  Execution  of,  II.  266  -  268. 
Aztec  language,  I.  24,  25. 

Baccheius,  I.  141. 

Bacchtlides,  I.  158. 

Bachelors,  I.  346,  347. 

Ballads,  I.  77-79,  87. 

Barbers,  I.  386,  387. 

Barlaam,  the  monk,  teaches  Petrarch 
Greek,  II.  386. 

Basil  the  Great,  St.,  II.  305,  348.  On 
slavery,  47. 

Basilia,  The  story  of,  II.  401,  402. 

Basque  language,  I.  12-14.  Alpha- 
bet, 46. 

Bavarians  at  Athens,  II.  472,  473, 
477  _  484. 

Bayle,  Pierre,  cited,  I.  177. 

Beauty  of  the  Greeks,  I.  280,  281. 

Beds  ,  I.  340,  341. 

Beggars,  I.  404. 

Ben  is  tun  inscription,  I.  51-53, 
58,  59. 

B«W,  I-  8. 

Bessarion,  of  Trebizond,  II.  387. 

Beule,  C.  E.,  II.  145. 

"Bhagavat-Gita,"  Extracts  from 
the,  I.  68. 

Bible,  Translations  of  the,  into  Mod- 
ern Greek,  II.  508. 

Binet,  Etienne,  II.  323. 

Bion,  I.  57. 

Birds,  II.  522.    Omens  from,  I.  447. 

Black,  Mrs.  T.  M.,  the  Maid  of 
Athens,  II.  515,  516. 

Blackie,  Professor  J.  8.,  II.  506. 
Considers  Greek  a  living  language, 
I.  318. 

Blaquiere,  Edward,  II.  432. 

Boccaccio,  Giovanni,  II  360, 386, 387. 

Bockh,  August,  I.  141  403.  Cited. 
485,  486,  501,  II.  25,  96. 

Bceotia.  I.  290  -  293. 


Books,  1.497-501. 

Bopp,  Franz,  I.  69. 

Botzares,  Costa,  II.  429,  468,  471. 

Botzares,  Marco,  II.  439,  529.  His 
death,  428,  429.     Letter  of,  436. 

Botzares,  Nothi,  II.  429,  468. 

Bowen,  Professor  in  the  University  oj 
Corfou,  II.  506. 

Brasidas,  Saying  of,  I.  386. 

Brienne,  Walter  de,  II.  357,  360. 

Bryant,  W.  C,  Criticism  of  the  trans- 
lation of  the  Danae  of  Simonides  by, 
I.  158. 

Buchon,  J.  A.,  I.  314.  Quoted,  II. 
507. 

Burger,  G.  A.,  265  -  267. 

Burnouf,  Eugene,  I.  50,  58. 

Byron,  Lord,  II.  419,  524.  Quoted, 
I.  174,  II.  10,  402.  His  services  to 
Greece,  II.  435  -  442. 

Byzantine  Empire,  II.  340  -  367  : 
art,  344,  345  ;  women,  345,  346  ; 
education,  346  -  348  ;  physicians, 
348,  349 ;  slavery,  353,  354 ;  the 
Crusades  and  the  Frankish  princes, 
355  -  361  ;  the  Turkish  conquest, 
361  -369  ;  the  Empire  of  Trebizond, 
369  -  372  ;  literature,  252  -  260  ; 
a.  Fathers,  373,  b.  Historians,  374 
-381,  c.  Poets,  381-383;  govern- 
ment, art,  literature,  church,  vindi- 
cated, 390. 

Cabasilas,  quoted,  I.  316,  317. 
Callias,  Peace  of,  II.  173. 
Callimachus,  I.  250  ;    II.  288,  387. 

Quoted,  56. 
Callinus,   of  Ephfisus,  War-elegy  of, 

I.  151. 

Calliphanes,  a  diner-out,  I.  374. 
Callistbatus,  the  Athenian  orator,  ex- 
cites the  emulation  of  Demosthenes, 

II.  221. 
Callistus,  II.  389. 
Canares,  Gallantry  of,  II.  428. 
Canes,  I.  388. 

Canning,  Sir  Stratford.  See  Strat- 
ford de   Redcliffe. 

Capo  d'Istria,  Augustine,  Count,  at 
the  head  of  the  Provisional  Govern- 
ment, II.  467,  469. 

Capo  d'Istria,  John,  Count,  Presi- 
dent, II.  447,  453,  454,  457-459. 
476-478,  516.  His  unpopularity 
and  assassination,  461  -  467. 


536 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Capo  d'Istria,  Viaro,  Count,  II.  467. 

Caps,  I.  388. 

Capsalks,  Heroic  death  of,  IL  443. 

Carrey,  Jacques,  II.  143. 

Catalan  Company,  The  Grand,  II. 

357. 
Cervantes    Saavedba,    Miguel   de, 

Contradictions  in  Don  Quixote,  I. 

84. 
Chjeremon,  the  tragic  poet,  quoted,  I. 

326,  327. 
Chalcis,  I.  293. 

Chalcocondyles,  Demetrius,  H.  389. 
Chalcocondyles,  Laonicus,  Account 

of,  and  extract  from  his  description 

of  England,  II.  379-381. 
Champollion,  J.  F.,  I.  48. 
Chandler,  Richard,  cited,  II.  411. 
Chapman,  George,  I.  102. 
Chares  feasts  the  Demos,  I.  404. 
Charinus,  a  diner-out,  I.  374. 
Charmides,  I.  372. 
Charon,   Modern   Greek   superstition 

concerning,  II.  522 ;  a  ballad  found- 
ed on  it,  I.  263. 
Charondas,  II.  67. 
Chaucer,  Geoffrey,   I.  80,   101,  260, 

II.  360. 
Cheilon,  Precepts  of,  I.  458. 
Cherokee  language,  I.  24. • 
Chezy,  A.  L.  de,  cited,  I.  69. 
Chi  an  ballad,  "The  Night  Ride," 

I.  265. 

Chi  Id -tax,  II.  397,  398. 

Children,  Language  of,  I.  21 . 
Treatment  of  at  Sparta,  I.  421.  At 
Athens,  I.  425  -  427. 

Chimneys,  I.  339. 

Chinese  alphabet,  I.  43  -  46.  Lit- 
erature, 54.     Language,  11. 

Christianity  and  slavery,  II.  45 
-51.  Christianitv  in  Greece,  289 
-  292. 

Christopoulos,    Athanasios,  I.  261, 

II.  520. 

Chrysippus,  on  beauty,  I.  281. 

Chrysoloras,  Manuel,  II.  387. 

Chrysostomus,  Joannes,  II.  298,  305, 
310.  On  slavery,  II.  47,  48.  Ac- 
count of,  and  extracts  from  his  hom- 
ilies, II.  324  -  333. 

Church,  General  Sir  Richard,  II. 
434,  447  -  450,  468,  483,  524. 

Cicero  and  the  statue  of  Demosthe- 
nes, II.  244. 


Cimon,  II.  109,  127,  128.      Generosity 

of,  I.  404. 
Citizenship  at  Athens,  I.  487. 
Classes   of  the  Athenians,  II.   74 

80. 
Cleanthes,  a  diner-out,  I.  374. 
Clearchus,  of  Soli,  I.  341,  342. 
Cleinias,  the  Pythagorean,  I.  140. 
Cleisthenes,  The  Constitution  of  I 

474,  II.  92-110. 
Clemens    of  Alexandria,    I.    47,    54. 

Quotation  from,  399.     Extract  from 

the  "  Paedagogus  "  of,  II.  336. 
Cleobulus,  quoted,  I.  432.     Precepts 

of,  458. 
Cleomenes,   King  of  Sparta,  I.   185, 

n.  in,  112. 

Cleon,  Account  of,  II.  153  -  161. 

Climate  of  Greece  healthy,  II.  11  - 
13. 

Clubs,  I.  401  -  403. 

Clytemnestra,  I.  208  -  212. 

Cochrane,  A.  T.,  Lord,  afterwards 
Earl  ofDundonald,  II.  447,  449,  450. 

Codrington,  Sir  Edward,  U.  452. 

Coleridge,  H.  N.,  Version  from  Cal- 
linus  by,  I.  151. 

Colettes,  John,  leader  of  the  Roume- 
liotes,  II.  468,  469.  Vice-President, 
485. 

Colocotrones  family,  IJ.  412. 

Colocotrones,  Theodore,  LI.  412 
His  disagreement  with  the  govern- 
ment, 428.  Conspiracy  of,  473. 
Opposed  to  Zaines,  482. 

Colonies,  I.  149,  II.  52,  53,  112,  275, 
276. 

COLUTHUS,  I.  251. 

Comedy,  Attic,  I.  227,  sqq. 
C  o  m  m  e  r  c  e  ,  I.  395  -  397. 
Comparative  philology,    I.   18 - 

40.     Sketch  of  its  history,  15  -  17. 
Conduriotti,  II.  463. 
Confederacies,  I.  475,  476,  II. 

129. 
Confucius,  cited,  I.  22. 
Conon  feasts  the  Demos,  I.  404. 
Constantine  the  Great,  Character  of, 

II.  293,  294. 
Constantinople,  Description   of,  H. 

342-344.    Injured  by  the  Crusaders, 

356.     Captured  by  the  Turks,  36    - 

369,  384. 

CONSTANTINUSPORPHYROGENITUS,  I] 

351,  375.     Quoted,  I.  311. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


537 


Constitutions  of  ancient  Greece, 
II.  3-110.  Of  modern  Greece: 
of  1822,  425-427;  of  1927,  447; 
under  Otho,  472;  of  1844,  482- 
488. 

CONTABLACUS,  II.  389. 
CONTOSTAVLOS,  II.  444. 

Conundrum  of  Sappho,  I.  370. 
Cooks,  I.  373,  374,  11.32. 
Cooper,  Sir  Astfey,  and  Hippocrates, 

I.  412. 

Coraes  (Coray),  Adamautios,  I.  258, 

II.  507.     Account  of,  416  -  418. 
Oorax,  II.  125. 

Corinna,  I.   180,  189.     Account  and 

fragment  of,  181. 
Corinth,  II.  112.     Sacked,  355. 
Corneille,  Pierre,  I.  241. 
Cosmetics,  342. 
Cottabos,  a  game,  I.  370. 
Court    de    Gebelin,  Antoine,   "  Le 

Monde  primitif,"  I.  14. 
Courts  of  justice,  I.  488  -  491,  II. 

89,    97,    98,    101  -  103,    110,    123, 

124. 
Cowper,  William,  I.  102. 
Cbatinus,  I.  228. 
Crete,    II.    392.      Constitution   and 

character  of,  II.  55-57. 
Critobulus,  I.  372,  II.  200.      Style 

of  living  of,  I.  356  -  358. 
Criton,  II.  200. 

Crow  carried  by  beggars,  I.  404. 
Crusades,  II.  355,  356. 
Ctesiphon,  II.  214,  237,  241. 
Cuneiform  writing,  I.  50  —  52. 
Curtius,  Ernst,  on  the  ♦emple  of  Zeus 

at  Olympia,  I.  453. 
Cyclic  poets,  I.  128. 
CyLON,  II.  76. 
Cyprus,  II.  392. 
Cypselus,  II.  54. 
Cyril,  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  answers 

Julian,  II.  297. 

Dacier,   Madame   A.   L.,    quoted,   I. 

177. 
Dairies,  I.  324. 
Dalzel,  Professor  Andrew,  quoted,  I. 

i77. 
Damon,  II.  126. 
Danae,   Poem   of  Simonides   on,    I. 

158,  159. 
Dante   Alighieri,  I.  260,   II.  360. 

Quoted,  279. 


Darius,  King  of  Persia,  I.  51,  58,  59, 
II.  113. 

Deinarchus,  II.  239. 

Delaware  language,  I.  24,  26. 

Delos,  Confederacy  of,  II.  119. 

Delphi,  Oracle  of,  I.  448,  449,  II.  58. 

Demades,  LI.  209. 

Demagogues,  I.  482,  486,  II.  152 
-161. 

Demakedes,  the  brothers,  Patriotic 
celibacy  of,  II.  494,  528. 

Demos,  Demoi,  I.  485,  486,  II.  92, 
93. 

Demetrius  Phalereus,  cited,  I.  358. 

Democedbs,  Salary  of,  I.  407. 

Democharis,  Poem  by,  I.  256,  257. 

Democritus,  I.  408. 

Demoi.     See  Demes. 

Demos,  The,  caricatured  by  Aristoph- 
anes, II.  155-161. 

Demosthenes,  the  general,  II.  139,  154, 
156. 

Demosthenes,  the  orator,  I.  284,  328, 
438,  467,  II.  15,  174,  190,  215. 
Cited,  I.  206,  252,  450,  489,  II.  27, 
137.  His  opposition  to  Philip,  I. 
244,  477,  II.  205,  341.  A  water- 
drinker,  I.  361.  His  father,  435. 
487,  II.  26,  99.  His  oration  against 
^schines,  I.  495-497,  II.  124,  212, 
213.  His  household  expenses,  I.' 501. 
Kansoms  slaves,  II.  29.  Compared 
with  Isocrates,  183.  After  the  death 
of  Alexander,  207  -  209.  Account 
of,  and  extracts  from  his  orations, 
219-246.  Studied  at  the  University 
of  Athens,  518. 

Dexippls,  Speech  of,  to  his  soldiers, 
II.  287. 

Diakos,  Courageous  death  of,  II. 
298. 

DiCiEARCHUS-,  I.  332,  335,  375.  Ac- 
count of,  and  extract  from  his  "  Life 
of  Hellas,"  289  -  293. 

Dicasts,  II.  103  -  105. 

Dl  uers-out,  L  374. 

Diodorus  Periegetks,  on  Sepul- 
chres, I.  465. 

Diodorus  Sicdlus,  i.  47,  51,  II. 
387. 

Diogenes,  the  Cynic,  enslaved,  II.  29. 

Diogenes  Laertius,  quoted,  I.  432, 
471. 

Dion  Chrysostomus,  I.  440,441,  IL 
288.     On  Archilochus,  1.  153. 


638 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


1 


Dionysiac  festivals,  I.  504,  sqq. 

Dionysius  of  Haliearnassus,  I.  158. 
His  comparison  of  Lysias  and  Isaeus, 
II.  190-194.     Cited,  225. 

Diopeithes,  I.  459. 

Diotima,  I.  432. 

Diphilus,  Verses  of,  in  praise  of 
wine,  I.  362. 

Divination,  I.  446  -  451 . 

Dorians,  I.  76,  77,  148.  Their  char- 
acter, I.  182-185,  286.  Manners 
and  customs,  398-401.  See  also 
Sparta. 

Doric  language  and  literature,  I. 
185  -  187.     Poetry,  147,  149. 

Dowry.L  347. 

Draco,  "i.  304,  393,  474.  Legislation 
and  death  of,  II.  75,  76,  80. 

Drama,  I.  196  -  247  :  trilogy,  201  ; 
divisions  of  a  tragedy,  202  ;  chorus, 
202  ;  number  and  subjects  of  plays, 
203,  204,  508 ;  ^schylus,  206  -  213 ; 
Euripides,  214  -  217  ;  Sophocles, 
217  -227  ;  Aristophanes,  227-240 ; 
the  later  drama,  240  -  247  ;  political 
allusions,  509. 

Drapery,  I.  391,  392. 

Dress,  I.  379  -  389.  Inferiority  of 
modern,  378,  380.     At  Sparta,  399. 

Drinking,  I.  169,  170.  At  feasts, 
366,  367.     See  also  Wine. 

Duponceau,  P.  S.,  I.  45. 

Eastern   Church.     See  Greek 

Church. 
E  c  c  1  e  s  i  a ,  II.  94. 
Echinus,  The,  and  the  Spartan,  I. 

360. 
Eclipse,  Poem  by  Pindar  on  a,  I. 

195,  196. 
Education,  I.  417-442.    Ideas  of 

Aristotle  on,  I.  483.      Spartan,"  II. 

64,   65,   68.      Byzantine,   II.   346- 

348.      In  Modern   Greece,  II.  263, 

413,414,516-519. 
Edwards,  Jonathan,   the  younger,   on 

the  Delaware  language,  I.  24. 
Egypt,  I.  75.   Influence  of,  on  Greece, 

I.  297,  298. 
Egyptian  writing,   I.  40,  46  -  49. 

Literature,  54-56. 
Election  by  lot,  II.  100,  102. 
Ele-isinian  mysteries,  I.  469  -471. 
England,  Account  of,  about  1450,  by 

Chalcocondyles,  LI.  380. 


English  language,  I.  38  -  39. 

Epaminondas,  LT.  137,  173.  Liberates 
the  Messenians,  23. 

Epeirus,  Insurrection  in,  LT.  493  - 
495. 

Ephippus,  I.  341. 

Ephors,   II.  61,  62. 

Epicharmus,  I.  228. 

Epicurus,  I.  244,  329. 

Epigrams,  I.  247. 

Epimenides,  of  Crete,  an  impostor,  II. 
76. 

Epitadeus,  II.  63. 

Erasmus,  Desiderius,  "Sancte  Socra- 
tes, ora  pro  nobis,"  I.  462. 

Eratosthenes,  accused  by  Lysias,  LI. 
175-177. 

Erinna,  I.  180.     Account  of,  181. 

Erro  y  Aspiroz,  J.  B.  de,  I.  13,  46 

Eryximachus,  I.  372. 

Eteoneus,  Character  of,  I.  441. 

Euclid,  I.  141. 

Eudamidas,  Saying  of,  I.  184. 

Eugenios,  the  Bulgarian,  II.  414. 

Eugenios,  St.,  Popularity  of,  II.  871. 

Eupatrid.e,  II.  74,  75. 

Euphorion,  I.  243. 

Eupolis,  I.  228. 

Euripides,  I.  201,  203-205,  242, 
243,  433,  II.  152.  Account  of,  and 
extracts  from  the  "Alcestis,"  I.  214 
—  217.  Ridiculed  by  Aristophanes, 
232,  233,  242,  509.  His  plays  per- 
formed at  Constantinople,  I.  253. 
Copies  of  them  in  the  Athenian  ar- 
chives, I.  503,  II.  209.  His  verses 
repeated  by  Athenian  slaves  in  Sici- 
ly, 29.     Quoted,  31. 

Euripides,  the  younger,  I.  243. 

Expenses  of  the  Athenian  state, 

I.  501.     Of  Athenians,  356  -  358. 

Fabvier,  Colonel,  II.  434,  445,  446. 
Fallmerayer,  J.  P.,  I.  315,  H.  371 
388.     Slavonic  theory  of,  disputed, 

II.  313-315. 
Farming,  I.  319-330. 
Fathers  of  the  Church,   The,  II 

308.     Byzantine,  373.     On  slavery 

47-49. 
Fauriel,  C.  C,  His  "  Chants  popu 

lakes  de  la  Grece  moderne,"  I.  262 

II.  521. 
Feasts,  1.  363  -  374. 
F  i  g  s  ,  I.  405,  406. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


539 


biLELFO,  Francesco,  honored  at  Flor- 
ence, II.  387. 

Finances  of  Athens,  I.  205,  206, 
501. 

Finlay,  George,  1. 31 5,  II.  434.  Quot- 
ed,  282,  345,  352. 

Fiedusi,  quoted,  II.  367. 

Fish-market,  I.  377,  378. 

Flies,  that  is,  parasites,  I.  364. 

Food,  I.  359-361. 

Fowl,  I.  323. 

France  and  Greece,  II.  451  -  453, 
480. 

Frere,  J.  H.,  quoted,  II.  157. 

Funeral  orations,  I.  467.  Rites, 
463-468. 

Furniture,  I.  340 - 342. 

Future  1  i f e ,  I.  462,  469,  470. 

Galen,  I.  145  Quoted,  140,  409. 
Gallatin,  Albert,  cited,  I.  23,  24. 
Games,  National,  I.  191-193,  445, 

446. 
"Ganges,  Descent  of  the,"  quoted,  I. 

66.  It  resembles  the  Battle  of  Achilles 

with  the  Rivers,  I.  110. 
Gardens,  I.  329. 
Gaudentius,  I.  141. 
Gaza,  Theodore,  IL  387. 
Gell,  Sir  William,  I.  334. 
Gemistus,  or  Pletho,  Georgius,  II. 

388. 
Geology,  I.  457. 
George,  St.,  of  Cappadocia,  II.  321. 

Account  of,  298  -  300. 
George,  the  Pisidian,  Account  of,  I. 

257. 
George  of  Trebizond,  II.  388. 
Georgius  Scholarius  or  Gennadios, 

Patriarch,  II.  367,  368. 
Gerbel,  Nicolas,  quoted,  I.  316. 
Germanos,  Archbishop  of  Patras,  II.  421 . 
Gibbon,  Edward,  II.  374,  381. 
Gliddon,  G.  R.,  cited,  I.  55. 
finomic  poetry,  I.  247. 
Soethe,  J.  W.  von,  I.  232.    His  opin- 
ion of  modern  Greek  popular  poetry, 

II.  521. 

JORDON,   Col.,  II.  434. 

Gorg-as,  I.  192,  282,  408,431,  II.  125, 
181.  And  Socrates,  I.  461.  His 
death,  II.  12. 

Goths,  Invasion  of  the,  II.  287,  288. 

Gouras,  besieged  in  Athens,  II.  445, 
446.     His  family  slain,  447. 


Government,  I.  473  -  492.  In  the 
Byzantine  Empire^  II.  350. 

Gray,  Thomas,  quoted,  II.  526. 

Great  Britain,  II.  431,  444,  451  - 
453,  480. 

Greece,  ancient,  Early  history  of,  I. 
71,  sqq.,  277,  sqq.,  II.  5.  Physical 
geography  of  I.  274-276,  II.  8-12. 
Decline  of,  I.  310.  Christianized, 
II.  316-339.     See  also  Byzantine. 

Greece,  Modern,  I.  317-319.  The 
War  of  the  Revolution,  H.  253  -  258, 
408-430.  Northern  boundary  of, 
458. 

Greek  church,  II.  334  -  339,  399, 490, 
492,  519.  Influence  on  Greek  litera- 
ture of  the,  I.  252. 

Greek  language,  ancient,  Accentua- 
tion of  the,  I.  37.  Pronunciation  of 
the,  II.  503,  504. 

Greek  language,  Modern,  I.  260,  261,     1^--' 
II.  501-510. 

Greek  literature,  Ancient,  a.  Poetry, 

I.  71-196,  247-258;  contrasted 
with  Sanskrit  poetry,  130 ;  b.  Drama, 
196-247,  253.  Decline  of,  247,  sqq. 
Studied  in  Italy  and  Germany,  II. 
384-390 

Greek  literature,  Modern,  I.  258-267, 

II.  520  -  523.  The  earliest  poem,  I. 
258. 

Greek  religion,  The  ancient :  the  gods, 

I.  300-302;  ode  by  Pindar  on  fu- 
ture punishment,  195. 

Greeks,  The  ancient,  contrasted  with 
other  nations,  I.  74,  75,  473,  II.  3-7, 
14.  Their  intellectual  and  moral 
character,  I.  282-288.  Influence  of 
Egypt  on  their  culture,  297,  298. 
Their  physical  type,  II.  7.  Their 
varied  excellence,  15. 

Greeks,  the  modern,  Character  of,  II.      \Z^ 
256-263.    Poor  and  dirty,  261, 479. 
Not  Slavonians,  311  -315. 

Gregory  of  Naziqnzus,  II.  295.  On 
slavery,  47.     Quoted,  348. 

Gregory  ofNyssa,  on  slavery,  H.  47. 

Gregory,  Patriarch  of  Constantinople, 

II.  422. 

Ghivas,  Michael,  H.  462. 
Griziotes,  II.  484. 
Gbote,  Grote,  approves  of  ostracism, 
II.  108.    Cited,  62. 196, 229,  230,  239 
Guizot,  F.  P.  G.,  II.  268,  270,  480. 
Gymnasia,  I.  430,  431. 


540 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Hadrian,  Ii.  285. 

Hair,  I.  386,  387. 

Harmodius,  Translation  of  the  ode  to, 
I.  371. 

Hastings,  F.  A.,  II.  434. 

Hats,  I.  388. 

Hat,  Lord  John,  II.  510. 

Health,  highly  valued  by  the  Greeks, 
I.  281. 

Hebrew  poetry,  I.  55  -  58. 

Heeren,  A.  H.  L.,  cited,  I.  58. 

Heideck,  Col.,  II.  469,  470. 

Helen,  Empress  of  Trebizond,  her  mis- 
fortunes, II.  372. 

He  lias  tic  court,  II.  97,  98,  198. 

Helicon,  Mt.,  Night  passed  on,  II. 
261-263. 

Hellas  and  Hellenes,  I.  279,  280. 

"  H  e  1 1  e  n  ,"  used  in  the  sense  of  "  Pa- 
gan," n.  306. 

H  e  1  o  t  s  ,  II.  23,  24,  39,  62. 

Heracleitus,  Philosophy  of,  I.  458. 

Herder,  J.  G.  von,  I.  10,  55. 

Hermann,  I.  84.     Quoted,  283,  285. 

Hermesianax,  Fragment  of,  I.  175. 

Hermontmus,  II.  389. 

Herodes  Atticus,  his  love  of  extem- 
porizing, 1. 440.    Account  of,  II.  286. 

Herodicus,  I.  408. 

Herodotus,  I.  47,  494,  II.  14.    Cited, 

I.  8,    172,    204,   331,   386,   439,   II. 
84. 

Hesiod,I.  132-137,  2S2,319,  320,  345. 
Hess,  Capt.,  II.  483. 
Hetairia,  The,  II.  415,421. 
Hieroglyphics,  I.  41,  42. 
Hill,  Dr.,TL  465,  517. 
Hipparchus,   I.   157.      Assassinated, 

II.  85. 

Hippias, son  of  Peisistratus, exiled,  II.  85. 

Hippias,  tlw  Sophist,  II.  181. 

Hippocrates,  cited,  I.  2€2.  Account 
of,  and  extracts  from,  408-415.  On 
climate,  473. 

Hipponax,  I.  175,  176. 

Historians,  Byzantine,  II.  374- 
381. 

Hobhouse,  Sir  J.  C,  quoted,  II.  411, 
419. 

Homer,  I.  62,  142,  172,  225,  246,  247, 
301,  342,  364,  386,  II.  7,  14,  31,  278, 
284,  526,  528.  Quoted,  I.  319,  321, 
325,  333,  334,  391,  406,  454,  II.  18- 
20,  39,  256,  387.  His  existence  as- 
serted, I.   82-88,  97,   118.      Imag- 


inary sketch  of  his  life,  90-9D 
Text  of  his  poems,  106,  107.  The 
Iliad,  its  origin,  93-95;  ito  sto- 
ry, 96  -  97  ;  deities  in,  98 ;  char 
acters  in,  98  - 101 ;  lov«  of  Na- 
ture in,  102 ;  translations  of,  102  - 
105.  The  Odyssey,  compaxed  with 
the  Iliad,  107  —  111 ;  its  story,  111  — 
118.  The  Margites,  120.  The  Ba 
trachomyomachia,  120-125.  The 
Hymns,  126-128.  Compared  with 
■  other  poets,  128-130;  with  Archil- 
ochus,  152,  154,  155.  His  poems 
used  in  education,  421,  429,  432,  II. 
518 ;  collected  by  Peisistratus,  85 ; 
eloquence  in,  121. 

Homerid^;,  I.  95,  106. 

Horace,  I.  153,  227,  426,  II.  284. 

Horapollo,  I.  47. 

Horse-racing,  I.  436. 

Houses,  I.  332-340. 

Howe,  S.  G.,  II.  254,  434.  Quoted, 
450. 

Humboldt,  K.  W.  von,  I.  13,  22,  24. 
Quoted,  II.  278,  279. 

Htdriotes,  The,  resist  Capo  d'Istria. 
11.462-464.     At  Argos,  468. 

Htperbolus,  II.  109. 

Htperides,  or  Htpeheides,  II.  124. 
207,  208,  209,  236-240.  Quotedj 
I.  487.  Oration  of,  recovered,  499. 
Account  of,  and  extracts  from  an 
oration  by,  II.  215-218. 

Ibrahim  Pacha,  II.  432,  445,  451, 

452.     Captures  Mesolopgi,  442  -444, 

Retires  from  fireece,  454. 
Image-worship,  II.  352,  353. 
Indians,  American,  Languages  of 

the,  22  -  26.     Writing  among  the,  I. 

40. 
Indo-European  languages,  1. 32 - 

40. 
Inheritance,  II.  222. 
Ink,  1.498. 

Interest,  Rate  of,  I.  501. 
Ion  wins  the  tragic  prize,  I.  404. 
Ionians,    I.    76,    77,    148,    303,    304 

Their  language  and  literature,  78  - 

81,  85,  89,  sqq.     Lyric  poetry,  145 

165.     Their  character,  286,  287. 
Iophon,  I.  243. 
Is^eus,  I.  347,  II.  124,  174,  220.     Ae 

coun^t  of,  and  extract  from  an  ora 

tion  by,  190-194. 


GENERAL  LNDEX 


541 


Isagoras,  the  rival  of  Cleiithenes,  II. 
92,  111. 

Ischomachus,  I.  349  -  359,  466. 

Isocrates,  I.  470,  477,  494,  499,  II. 
124,  174.  Cited,  I.  375,  396.  His 
school  of  rhetoric,  431,  II.  220.  In- 
structor of  Lycurgus,  209 ;  of  De- 
mosthenes, 215,  220.  Account  of, 
and  extracts  from  his  orations,  180- 
190.     His  old  age  and  death,  11. 

Jacobs,  C.  F.  W.,  cited,  I.  81,  83, 303. 

Janizaries,  II.  397,  398. 

Jasmin,  Jacques,  Recitation  of,  n.  275. 

Jewelry,  I.  342. 

Joannina,  School  of,  II.  413,  414. 

Job,  Book  of,  I.  57,  58,  204. 

Johaxxis,  Prof.  Philippos,  II.  518. 

John  of  Saxony,  II.  456. 

Joxes,'  Sir  William,  I.  16,  171,  272, 

II.  190.     Cited,  I.  62. 
Julian,  the  Emperor,  H.  322.    Account 

of,  295  -  303. 
Juries,  I.  488-491,  U.   101,  103- 

105. 
Jury,  Trial  by,  II.  202. 
Justin  Martyr,  on  slavery,  II.  47. 
Justinian,  the  Emperor,  Eeign  of,  II. 

310. 
Juvenal,  I.  227.     "  Graecia  mendax," 

II.  256. 

Kalergi,  Gen.,  II.  497.  Account  of, 
481  -  483. 

Kalvos,  I.  261. 

Kanakares,  Athanasius,  II.  427. 

Kara  Ali,  II.  428. 

Karaiskakes,  H.  446, 447.  His  death, 
448. 

King,  Dr.  Jonas,  H.  249,  474.  Perse- 
cution of,  489  -  493,  496. 

Kings,  II.  18, 19.    At  Sparta,  59 -61. 

Kintahi.     See  Reshid  Pacha. 

Klephts,  I.  262-265,  II.  403-407, 
420,  523.     Klephtic  feast,  528,  529. 

Kontogones,  Prof.,  II.  518,  519. 

Koijdas,  the  Klepht,  II.  406. 

La  Gcilletiere,  de,  pseudon.,  quoted, 
II.  400. 

Lamfrob,  the  Lebadeian,  II.  413. 

Language,  Origin  of,  I.  3-17. 
Marvellousness  of,  5.  The  primitive, 
12-15.  A  universal,  undesirable,  39. 

Languages,  Classification  of,  1.18- 


31.  Geographical  distribution  of,  28 

32,  33.     Indo-European,  32,  etc. 
Lascaris,  Constantine,  Account  of,  II. 

389. 

Laughing,  The  power  of,  lost  and 
recovered,  I.  369. 

Laurenberg,  quoted,  I.  316. 

Lawyers,  II.  123,  124,306. 

Leake,  Col.  W.  M.,  cited,  II.  396. 

Legislature,  I.  487,  488,  II.  80, 
94-96.     Spartan,  59,  60. 

Leo  the  Isaurian,  II.  340.  His  reforms. 
351  -  353. 

Leo  of  Thessalonica,  II.  375. 

Leo  X.,  II.  389. 

Leo  Sguros,.I.  313. 

Leocrates,  II.  210,  211.  Club-debts 
of,  I.  403. 

Leopold,  Prince,  afterwards  King  of 
Belgium,  II.  456, 477.  The  crown  of 
Greece  offered  to,  II.  451  ;  and  re- 
fused, 456-461. 

Lepanto,  Battle  of,  II.  391. 

Leptines,  II.  225. 

Lesbos  the  seat  of  iEolian  culture,  I. 
167,  sqq. 

Leschae,  clubs,  I.  401  -403. 

Levides,  arrested,  II.  496. 

Libanics,  I.  441.  Account  of,  H. 
303  -  305. 

Libraries,  I.  497-500.  Of  Athens 
not  burned  by  the  Goths,  II.  288. 

Linus,  I.  126,  419. 

Liturgies  of  the  Greek  Church,  II. 
336  -  339. 

Livy,  quoted,  I.  454. 

Local  government,  II.  480. 

Londos,  H.  419,  483,  485. 

Longevity  of  the  Greeks,  II.  Il- 
ls. 

Longfellow,  H.  W.,  I.  253.  Quoted, 
103. 

Longinus,  I.  94,  152.     Quoted,  172. 

Louis,  King  of  Bavaria,  aids  Greece, 
II.  469,  470. 

Louis  Philippe,  The  crown  of  Greece 
offered  to  his  son,  II.  451. 

Louriottes,  II.  431. 

Love,  Platonic  theory  of,  I.  372. 

Lucian,  I.  186,  231,  341,  454,  II.  288. 
Quoted,  I.  344,  345,  441. 

Lycophron,  I.  251,  II.  288. 

Lycurgvs,  the  Spartan  legislator,  I.  148, 
II.  22  Collects  the  poems  of  Ho- 
mer, L  83.     Contrasted  with  Solon, 


642 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


424,  II.  87-89.       Life  of,   58,  59 

Constitution  of  Sparta,  59,  sqq. 
Ltccrgus,  the  Athenian  orator,  I.   157; 

403.     Honesty  of,  503.    Account  of, 

II.  209-212. 
Lysias,  I.  337,  467,  II.  124.     Account 

of,  and  extracts  from   his  speeches, 

174-180.     Compared  with    Isaeus, 

190-194. 
Lysicrates,  Choragic  monument  of, 

II.  140. 
Lysippus,  quoted,  I.  290. 
Lytton,  Sir  E.  G.  E.  L.  Bulwer,  "  The 

New  Timon,"  I.  85. 

Macedon,  Supremacy  of,  IL_2J6. 

Machaon,  I.  406,  418. 

Machatas  Leucopetras,  I.  173. 

"Mahabharata,"  Extracts  from 
they  I.  67  -  69. 

Mahomet  II.  captures  Constantinople, 
II.  362  -  369,  394,  400. 

Mahomet  Ali,  II.  432. 

Maid  of  Athens,  The,  II.  515,516. 

Maina,  II.  463,  464,  467. 

Manasses,  Constantine,  I.  258. 

Manetho,  I.  49. 

Manouses,  Prof.,  quoted,  II.  315. 

Manufactures,  I.  392-396. 

Marathon,  II.  113. 

Marcy,  W.  L.,  II.  249,  250. 

Market,  Athenian,  I.  375  -  378. 

Marriage,  I.  343-349.  Proper 
age  for,  282.  Wedding-dress,  385. 
At  Sparta,  401. 

Marsh,  G.  P.,  investigates  the  case  of 
Dr.  King,  II.  492,  493. 

Massachusetts  Indians,  Language 
of  the,  I.  25. 

Masson,  Prof.  Edward,  II.  465,  506. 

Masurus,  II.  389. 

Maurer,  G.  L.  von,  II.  470,  473. 

Mavrocordatos,  Alexander,  Drago- 
man of  the  Porte,  Account  of,  II.  415. 

Mavrocordatos,  Alexander,  II.  425, 
431,  437,  463,  464,  470,  477.  His 
sister,  517.  Vice-president,  485.  At 
the  head  of  the  Cabinet,  497.  Min- 
ister at  Paris,  511. 

Mavrocordatos,  Nicholas,  Hospodar 
of  Wallachia,  H.  415. 

Wavromichales,  Constantine,  H.  464. 
Assassinates  Capo  dTstria,  465. 

Mavromichales,  George,  II.  464. 
Assassinates  Capo  dTstria,  465,  466. 


Mavromichales,  Petros,  II.  427,  42* 
463. 

Maximds  Tyrius,  quoted,  I.  177,  344, 
450. 

Mazure,  cited,  I.  9. 

Meals,  I.  362-375.  At  Sparta,  399, 
401. 

Medicine,  I.  406-416. 

Meidias,  prosecuted  by  Demosthenes, 
II.  228,  229. 

Meletios,  the  Patriarch,  II.  412. 

Menander,  I.  386,  503.  Account  and 
fragments  of,  244-246,  174,  363, 
II.  33. 

Menedemus,  Industry  of,  I.  394. 

Mesolongi,  Death  of  Lord  Byron  at, 
II.  438  -440.     Siege  of,  442* - 444. 

Metaxas,  II.  485. 

Metrodords,  H.  40. 

Metrophanes,  the  preacher,  II.  519. 

Meyer,  II.  434. 

Miaoules,  Andreas,  II.  471.  Com- 
mands the  fleet,  428.  At  the  siege 
of  Mesolongi,  442.  Joins  the  male- 
content  Hydriotes  and  burns  the 
"  Hellas,"  463,  464. 

Michael  Apostolius,  II.  389. 

Milionis,  Christos,  the  Klepht,  II. 
406. 

Miller,  II.  434. 

Milman,  H.  H.,  I.  68.  His  transla- 
tion of  the  "  Descent  of  the  Ganges," 
66.     Quoted,  II.  318. 

Miltiades,  II.  114^  124. 

Milton,  John,  I.  8VT36, 198.  Quoted 
140,  190,  428,  II.  11. 

Mimnermus,  I.  57.  Account  of,  and 
extracts  from  his  poems,  I.  155-157 

Minos,  II.  55. 

Modern  Greece.  See  Greece,  Mod- 
ern. 

Mohican  language,  I.  24. 

Moliere,  J.  B.  P.,  I.  231.  Compared 
with  Aristophanes,  242. 

Monboddo,  Lord,  I.  48.     Cited,  8,  9. 

Moore,  Thomas,  quoted,  I.  174. 

Mosaic  floors,  I.  339. 

Moschus,  H.  389. 

Mourouzes,  H.  415,  421.     , 

M  p  o  n  g  w  e  language,  I.  26,  35. 

Muller,  K.  O.,  I.  400,  n.  61. 

MUMMIUS,  H.  281. 

Munford,  William,  I.  102. 
Muntaner,  quoted,   I.  313,  314,  D 
357-359. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


543 


Mure,  William,  I.  118.     Cited,  176, 

186. 
Murray,  Alexander,  I.  14. 
Mus^eus,  I.  126,  251,  361. 
M  u  s  i  c ,  I.  138  - 144,  437,  420. 
Myko,  I.  180. 
Mtrtis,  I.  189.     Censured  by  Corin- 

na,  181. 
Myrto,  I.  180. 

N  a  m  e  s  ,  I.  424,  425. 

National  life,  its  growth  and  decay, 
I.  294  -  297. 

Nature,  Love  of,  in  the  ancient  po- 
ets, I.  102,  330. 

Navarino,  Battle  of,  II.  452,  453. 

Negris,  Theodore,  II.  425,  427. 

Nero,  the  Emperor,  II.  285. 

"New  Timon,  The,"  I.  85. 

Nicephorus  Bryennius,  Account  of, 
and  extract  from  his  history,  II. 
375-377. 

Nicias,  the  Athenian  general,  II.  26. 
Procures  the  ostracism  of  Hyperbo- 
lus,  109.  Peace  of,  150,  169.  Re- 
signs his  generalship  to  Cleon,  154. 
In  "  The  Knights  "  of  Aristophanes, 
15§. 

Nicias,  the  Syracusan  rhetorician,  II. 
175 

NlCOMACHUS,  I.  141. 

Niebuhr,  B.  G.,  I.  130,  II.  374. 
Nonnus,  quoted,  II.  347. 
Normann,  Gen.,  II.  439. 
Norton,  Prof.  Andrews,  Translation 

of  the  "  Danae  "  of  Simonides  by,  I. 

158,  159. 
Nossis,  I.  180. 
Notaras,    Grand  Duke,  Execution  of 

the,  II.  367. 
Notaras,  John,  II.  482. 
Notaras,  Panayotoki,  II.  482. 
Notaras,   Panoutsos,   II.   485.      One 

hundred  and  seven  years  old,  12. 
Nurses,  I.  421,  425. 

Occupations,  Daily,  of  an  Athe- 
nian, I.  358,  359. 

Odysseus,  a  modern  Greek,  treacher- 
ous and  betrayed,  II.  445,  446. 

Olen,  I.  126,  277. 

"Olympus  and  Kissavos,"  I.  264. 

Olynthus,  II.  232,  233. 

Omens,  I.  447,  448. 

Omer  Vriunes,  II.  258. 


Oracles,  I.  448,  449,  II.  58. 
Oratory  and  orators,  II.  120,  sqq. 

Origin  of  Attic  eloquence,  II.  120- 

125. 
Oriental  literature,  I.  54  -  70. 
Oriental  nations  contrasted  with  the 

Greeks,  I.  74,  75. 
Origen,  II.  323. 
Oropus,  I.  290,  292. 
Orpheus,  I.  76,  126,  167,  217,  277, 

419. 
Orthagoras,  II.  54. 
Ostracism    condemned,    II.    107- 

109. 
Otho,   King  of  Greece,  II.  470,   sqq. 

Faults  of  his  government,  476  -480. 

His  interest  in   the  United  States, 

511.     His  character,  514. 
Ovid,  I.  174.     Quoted,  177. 

Pachas,  Power  of  the,  II.  394  -  396 
Paicos,  Minister  of  Foreign   Affairs, 

II.  492,  493,  496. 
Palamedes,  Rhegas,  II.  483. 
Paley,  William,  I.  459. 
Pallecaria,  II.  403  -  407. 
Palmerius  derives  the  Irish  from  the 

Arcadians,  I.  326. 
Palmerston,  Lord,  detested  in  Greece, 

H.  489. 
Pamphilus,  a  diner-out,  I.  374. 
Panagiotaki,  II.  415. 
Panaretus,  I.  315,  II.  388. 
Paparregopoulos,  Prof.,  II.  520. 
Papias,  II.  386. 
Papyrus,  I.  500. 
Parasites,  I.  364. 
Paris,  France,  praised  by  the  Emperor 

Julian,  II.  302. 
Parrhasius  paints  the  picture  of  the 

Demos,  II.  155. 
Parthenon,   Description  of  the,  II. 

141  -  145,  250. 
Parties,  II.  115,  116. 
Paul  the   Silentiary,  Account  of,  and 

extracts   from   his    poems,    I.   255, 

256. 
Pau8anias,  the  Athenian,  I.  372. 
Pausanias,  King  of  Sparta,  II.  61,  70. 
Pausanias,  the  traveller,  I.  293.    Cited, 

85,  181,  188,  444,  II.   54,   151,  209. 

His   description   of   the   temple   of 

Zeus  at  Olympia,  I.  452. 
PEiRiEus.  The,  I.  396. 
Peisi9TRAtus,  I.  148,  157,  329.     Col 


544 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


lects  Homer's  poems,  83.  His  usur- 
pation, 163,  196,  344,  D  55,  83- 
86. 

Pelasgians,  I.  73.  Their  language, 
279. 

Peloponnesian  war,  II.  146-154. 

Pennethorne,  George,  notices  the  in- 
clination of  the  columns  of  the  Par- 
thenon, II.  144. 

Penrose,  F.  C,  on  the  inclination  of 
the  columns  of  the  Parthenon,  H. 
144,  145. 

Pens,  I.  498. 

Pekdicares,  Michael,  I.  261. 

Periander,  I.  185. 

Pericles,  I.  182,  234,  329,  409,  459, ' 
495,  H.  97,  221,  223.  His  charac- 
ter, eloquence,  and  policy,  125- 
136.  His  domestic  trials,  134.  His 
son,  150.  His  eulogy  of  Athens,  I. 
306,  307,  434.  His  eloquence  com- 
pared with  that  of  Socrates,  461. 
Funeral  oration  by,  467, 468.  Trans- 
fers the  treasury  from  Delos  to 
Athens,  205,  443.  The  Peloponne- 
sian War,  H.  146,  147.  His  public 
works  at  Athens,  I.  393,  485.  Su- 
perintends building  the  Parthenon, 

11.  251. 

Perrh2ebos,   Gen.  Chris tophorus,  II. 

12,  462. 

Persia,  Sketch  of  the  wars  with,  II. 
112-120. 

Petrarca,  Francesco,  ignorant  of 
Greek,  II.  386,  387. 

Ph^drus,  the  son  ofPythocles,  I.  372. 

Phaon-,  I.  173. 

Pharmakides,  Prof.,  II.  519. 

Pheidias,  His  statue  of  Zeus  at  Olym- 
pia,  I.  453,  454.  Charged  with  pil- 
fering, II.  135.  Account  of,  136, 
137. 

Phemonoe,  inventor  of  the  hexameter, 

I.  76. 

Pherecrates,  quoted,  I.  293. 

Philemon,  I.  504.  Description  of  a 
cook  quoted  from,  373.  Fragments 
of,  II.  31. 

Philesion,  editor  of  the  "Aion,"  arrest- 
ed, II.  495. 

Philip  of  Macedon,  I.  432,  476,  477, 

II.  11,  174,  182,204-206,  213-215, 
2".r>,  341.  And  Demosthenes,  229- 
238,  241  -  244.  Offers  a  talent  for  a 
collection  of  jokes,  I.  369. 


Phillips,  Ambrose,  I.  180. 

Philocles,  I.  243. 

Philodemcs,   treatise   on   music   by 

recovered,  I.  499. 
Philolaus,  Astronomical  theories  of, 

I.  456. 

Philosophers,  Greek,  1. 456-462 

Their  conception  of  music,  143,  144 

Philostratos,  I.  441.     Quoted,  4*3, 

II.  138. 

Philoxenus,  the  "  fly,"  I.  365,  374. 

Phocion,  I.  477. 

Phocylides,  Poems  of,  used  in  schools, 
I.  429.     Quoted,  482. 

Phoenician  alphabet,  I.  13,  52  - 54 
Literature,  56. 

Ph«enicians,  I.  72,  75,  91,  92. 

Phormion,  II.  225. 

Photids,  cited,  H.  374. 

Phrynichus,  I.  206.  Fined,  204,  II 
113. 

Phrynnis,  I.  139. 

Phya  personates  Athene,  H.  84. 

Phyle,  View  from  the  fortress  of,  II. 
524. 

Physicians,  I.  406-416.  Byzan- 
tine, II.  348,  349. 

Pickering,  John,  I.  45,  318.  Cited, 
46. 

Pilatus,  Leontius,  H.  387. 

Pindar,  I.  158,  446,  II.  387.  Quoted, 
I.  140,  362.  The  music  to  his  First 
Pythian  Ode  tried,  141, 142.  Beaten 
by  Myrtis  and  Corinna,  181,  182. 
Account  of,  and  extracts  from  his 
odes,  188,  196. 

Pinet,  quoted,  I.  316. 

Pithyllus,  I.  374. 

PlTTACCS,  I.   148. 
PlTTAKYS,  II.  515. 

Plapoutas,  Demetrius,  II.  471,  473. 

pLATiEA,  I.  291. 

Plato,  I.  139,  145,  229,  234,  327,  346, 
361,  438,  442,  460,  499,  n.  15,  174, 
346,  379,  387.  Cited,  I.  8,  54,  58, 
60,  172,  177,  281,  282,  301,  339, 
341,  342,  394,  408,  436,  487,  493, 
502,  503,  II.  72,  73,  180,  349.  Quo- 
tation  from  the  Protagoras  on  edu- 
cation, I.  427  -  429.  On  Athenian 
courts,  491.  On  slavery,  II.  34-40 
His  scheme  of  government,  36,  sqq 
His  opinion  of  Solon,  86.  His  ac- 
count of  the  trial  of  Socrates,  199 
200.      His   "  Symposium,"  I.  8f»" 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


545 


372.  His  "  Republic,"  I.  477,  478 ; 
criticised,  203,  204.  And  Homer, 
129.  And  Christianity,  II.  289. 
Contrasted  with  Aristotle,  I.  479, 
II.  41.  Enslaved,  30.  A  teacher 
of  the  orator  Lycurgus,  209 ;  of  De- 
mosthenes, 215;  of  Aristotle,  220. 
His  will,  I.  471,  472. 

Pliny,  the  elder,  cited,  I.  40,  329,  II. 
155. 

Pliny,  the  younger,  quoted,  II.  336. 

Plutarch,  I.  141,  441,  II.  130.  Cited, 

I.  HO,  1 77, 1 79,  206,  363,  393, 422,  II. 
59,  65,  135,  138,  210,  221,  224,  229. 
His  "  Conviviales  Disputationes,"  I. 
367.  His  account  of  the  equality 
of  property  at  Sparta  incorrect,  H. 
63. 

Podaleirius,  I.  406,  418. 

Poetry,  Ancient  Greek,  II.  381  -383. 

Poetry,  Modern  Greek,  Account  of, 
with  specimens,  H.  520  -  523. 

Polemon,  I.  440. 

Political  societies,  leschae,  I.  401  - 
403. 

Pollux,  Julius,  Enumeration  of  masks 
by,  I.  200,  201. 

Polybius,  I.  282.  Quoted,  284.  Epi- 
gram of,  II.  281. 

POLYCBATES,  I.  148. 

Polygamy   first    discarded   by   the 

Greeks,  II.  4,  5. 
Polyzois,  Poem  of,  II.  420. 
Pompey  the  Great,  H.  283. 
Poor,  The,  cared  for,  I.  403,  404. 
Pope,  Alexander,  I.  102,  174,  227. 
Poseidippus,  the  comic  poet,  I.  204. 
Praxilla,  I.  180. 
Praxiteles,  I.  317. 
Preaching   in  the  Greek   Church, 

II.  519. 
Priests,  I.  444,  445. 
Procopius,  Writings  of,  II.  374. 
Prodicds,  I.  234,  431,  H.  181. 

PROMACHU8,  I.  367. 

Property,  Equality  of,  at  Sparta, 

II.  63. 
Protagoras,  I.  234. 
Prytaneis,  II.  95,  96. 
Psammetichus,  Linguistic  experiment 

of,  I.  8. 
Psellus,  Michael,  Writings  of,  II.  875. 
Psychomancy,  I.  450. 
Psyllas,  called  Aristeides  the  Just,  II. 

497. 

vol.  ii.  35 


Ptochoprodromus,  Theodorus.  Set 
Theodorus. 

Pythagoras,  I.  140, 442.  Philosophy 
of,  458. 

Pythagoreans,  The,  become  phy- 
sicians, I.  415. 

Pythocleides,  II.  126. 

Quintilian,  quoted,  I.  140,  454 
Quintus  Smyrn^eus,  I.  252. 

Rabelais,  Francois,  and  Aristophanes, 
I.  231. 

Racine,  Jean,  I.  233,  241. 

Ralles,  II.  520. 

"Ramayana,"  Extracts  from  the, 
I.  62-67. 

Rangabes,  Prof.,  II.  518,  520. 

Raven  carried  by  beggars,  I.  404. 

Rawlinson,  Sir  H.  C,  I.  50,  51 . 

Religion,  I.  442-456. 

Renouard,  P.  V.,  quoted,  I.  416. 

Reshid  Pacha,  Kintahi  or,  II.  270. 
Besieges  Athens,  445  -  450. 

Rexjchlin,  Johann,  n.  388,  390. 

Revolution  of  1843,  IL  482- 
484. 

Rhenius,  quoted,  I.  5. 

Rhigas,  Constantinos,  I.  461.  Ac- 
count of,  with  translations,  II.  418  - 
420. 

Rhodes,  Demosthenes  on  the  freedom 
of,  II.  232. 

Ricord,  Russian  Admiral,  II.  464. 

Rings,  I.  388.    - 

Rizos,  The  plays  of,  I.  261. 

Roads  in  ancient  Greece,  I.  331- 
332.  Roads  planned  by  the  Regency 
of  1833,  II.  478. 

Roeser,  Dr.,  II.  505. 

Romania,  Empire  of,  I.  312,  314. 

Romans,  Greece  under  the,  II.  279- 
292. 

R  o  s  e  1 1  a  Stone,  I.  48. 

Roumeliotes,  Successful  insurrection 
of  the,  H.  468,  469. 

Rural  life,  I.  319-330. 

Russia,  Policy  of,  towards  Greece,  II. 
314,  451  -  453,  485,  498.  Its  treach- 
ery and  intrigues  in  Greece,  409,410, 
412,  432,  493,  511. 

Ryoaut,  Sir  Paul,  II.  393. 

St.  John,  J.  A.,  quoted,  I.  322,  324 
344,  t*6,  436. 


646 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


St.  Sophia,  'the  Church  of,  Legend 
about,  II.  266  ;  sacked,  366. 

Sais,  founded  by  Neith,  II.  72,  82. 

Salamis,  II.  117-118. 

Salomos,  I.  262. 

Sandys,  George,  quoted,  I.  317. 

S  a  n  s  k  i  i  t  alphabet,  I.  52,  53.  Lan- 
guage, 33-37,  78,  80,  279.  Lit- 
erature, 60-69.  Sanskrit  poetry 
contrasted  with  Greek,  130. 

Sappho,  I.  256,  II.  284.  Account  of, 
and  extracts  from  her  poems,  1. 171  — 
180.  Defended  against  the  charge 
of  having  committed  suicide,  173- 
175;  of  immorality,  175,  176;  of 
being  ugly,  176,  177.  Her  conun- 
drum 370. 

Schinas,  Minister  at  Munich,  II.  511. 

SCHLEGEL,    A.    W.    VON,    I.    66.       His 

condemnation  of  the  French  drama 
questioned,  242. 

Schlegel,  K.  W.  Fr.  von,  I.  17,203. 

Schleicher,  August,  cited,  I.  20,  30. 

Scholl,  M.  S.  F.,  Error  of,  II.  186. 

Schoolcraft,  H.  E.,  I.  24,  40,  55. 

Scio,  Massacre  of,  II.  427. 

Scolia,  I.  370,  371. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  Bart.,  II.  103. 
Contradiction  in  "  The  Antiquary," 
I.  84. 

Scribe,  A.  E.,  and  Aristophanes,  I. 
243. 

Senate,  II.  94-96,  101. 

Sepulchres,  I.  464 - 466. 

Seyffarth,  Gustav,  cited,  I.  55. 

Shadwell,  L.,  Extract  from  his  ver- 
sion of  the  Iliad,  I.  104. 

Shakespeare,  I.  228,  229,  260,  302, 
369,  II.  361.  And  Homer,  I.  80,  87, 
132.  Quoted,  140.  Lady  Macbeth 
compared  with  Clytemnestra,  210. 
"  The  Winter's  Tale  "  similar  to  the 
"Alcestis  "  of  Euripedes,  216.  Sticho- 
mythy  of,  222.  The  most  classical 
of  modern  dramatists,  222,  241 ,  242. 

Shepherds,  I.  324,  325. 

Shoes,  I.  380,  385. 

Simonides,  I.  227,  446.  Account  of, 
and  extracts  from  his  poems,  157  — 
159,281.  His  poems  used  in  schools, 
429.     Ode  on  Thermopylae,  H.  117. 

Simonides,  Constantine,  slanders  Dr. 
King,  II.  490. 

Slavery,  II.  20-51.  Permanence 
of,  21 .    Spartan,  22  -  24.    Athenian, 


1. 486,  II.  24,  sqq.  SouiceB  of  slaves, 
26,  29.  Witness  of  slaves,  27,  165 
166.  Plato  and  Aristotle  on,  34-45 
And  Christianity,  45-51.  Abol- 
ished by  the  Modern  Greeks,  50,  51. 
Forbidden  in  the  Constitution  of 
1844,  486. 

Slavonians,  Invasion  of  Greece  by, 
II.  311,  312.  The  Modern  Greeks 
not  Slavonians,  313-315. 

Society,  Modern  Athenian,  II.  510- 
516. 

Socrates,  I.  329, 337, 339, 431,  II.  174. 
Quoted,  I.  180,  181.  Eidiculed  by 
Aristophanes,  230,  509.  His  philos- 
ophy, 282,  284,  307,  442,  II.  289. 
His  habits  and  manner  of  life,  I.  336, 
361,  375,  433.  His  conversation  with 
Ischomachus,  349-355.  Amount  of 
his  property,  356-358.  At  Aga- 
thon's  banquet,  364,  367,  372,  385. 
His  argument  on  the  existence  of 
God,  459.  His  eloquence,  his  in- 
fluence, his  trial  and  death,  460- 
462,  491,  II.  196-202.  Reversal 
of  his  sentence,  110. 

Solon,  I.  156,  172.  Account  of,  and 
extracts  from  his  poems,  162,  163, 
140,  155,  II.  86,  87.  Admires  a 
poem  of  Sappho,  I.  196.  Life  and 
legislation  of,  II.  78  -  92,  1. 148,  304, 
346,  393,  402,  424,  427,  474,  487,  II. 
24,  55. 

S  o  p  h  i  s  1 8  ,  I.  229,  II.  125,  197. 

Sophocles,  I.  74,  142,  198,  202,  203- 
205,  232,  243,  483,  503,  508,  509,  II. 
152,  fS8.    Compared  with  iEschylus, 

I.  214.  Account  of,  and  extracts 
from  his  plays,  217-227.  His 
plays  performed  at  Constantinople, 
253.  Quoted,  II.  31.  A  general, 
120.  Copies  of  his  plays  in  the 
Athenian  archives,  209. 

Sophocles,  the  younger,  I.  243 

Sophocles,  E.  A.,  revises  Fauriel's 
"  Chants  populaires  de  la  Grece 
moderne,"  I.  263. 

Sothebt,  William,  I.  102. 

Sodtsos,  Alexander,  I.  262,  II.  520. 
The  "  Exoristos  "  of,  463. 

Sparta,  II.  228.  Sends  away  Archi 
lochus,  I.  153.  Receives  Tyrtaeus 
160.  A  leader  of  Greece,  476.  At 
tempts  to  establish  a  tyrant  at  Athens 

II.  Ill,  112.     Resists  the  Persians 


GENERAL   INDEX. 


116.  Her  selfish  policy,  118.  De- 
feats the  plan  of  a  Grecian  confeder- 
ation, 129.  The  Peloponnesian  war, 
1 46  - 1 54.  Oration  of  Andocides  on 
a  peace  with,  169,  170.  Her  ascend- 
ency, 171.  Her  decline,  69,  70. 
The  subject  towns  made  independ- 
ent, 285.  Her  government,  I.  474, 
II.  57-70;  admired  by  Plato,  35. 
Contrasted  with  Athens,  1. 182, 304 -, 
308.  Manners  and  customs,  398- 
401,  II.  63-70.  Houses  in,  335. 
Education  in,  I.  421  -423,  II.  64,  65, 
68.  Slavery  at,  22-24.  Women 
of,  I.  183,  II.  66,  67.  Marriage,  I. 
346,400,401.  Dress  at,  381.  Terse- 
ness of  speech,  184,  185,  II.  123. 
The  Spartan  and  the  echinus,  I.  360. 

Spiritualism,  I.  451,  II.  145. 

Stackelberg,  O.  M.,  Baron  von,  I. 
464,  465.      Quoted,  462. 

Stael-Holstein,  A.  L.  G.  N.,  Baron- 
ess de,  quoted,  I.  177,  484. 

Stesimbrotus,  quoted,  II.  130. 

STOB2EU8,  I.  251,  II.  216. 

Strabo,  I.  293.  Cited,  40,  438.  Fish- 
story  related  by,  378. 

Stratford  de  Redcliffe,  Stratford 
Canning,  Viscount,  H.  265,  267,  269, 
271,  447,  451,  468. 

Stbato,  Fragment  of,  I.  246. 

Scidas,  cited,  I.  244,  II.  127. 

Sulla  captures  Athens,  II.  282. 

Sulpicius  Lemonia  Rufus,  Servius, 
quoted,  H.  284. 

Superstitious  man,  Character  of 
the,  by  Theophrastus,  I.  455. 

Surgery,  I.  412. 

Swift,  Jonathan,  I.  227.  And  Aris- 
tophanes, 231. 

Swiss  Republic,  Constitution  of  the, 
II.  107. 

Symposia,  I.  363 - 374. 

Sykebius,  Account  of,  and  extract  from 
his  first  hymn,  I.  254,  255.  Anoth- 
er extract,  II.  381. 

Talfourd,  Sir  T.  N.,  I.  198. 
Tanagra,  Description  of,  L  290  -  292. 
Telesilla,   I.  180.     Her  poetry  and 

her  courage,  185,  II.  68. 
T  e  m  p  1  e  s  ,  I.  443  -  445,  452,  453. 
Tennent,  Sir  J.  Emerson,  quoted,  I. 

315,  II.  307,  396,  401. 
Terence  translates  Menander,  I.  245 


Terpander,  I.  167,  168/  His  music, 
»      139,  140. 

Thales,  Philosophy"  of,  I.  457. 

Thaletas,  I.  l/*uV/ 

Thamyris,  L/27Y,  419. 

Theatre/1.501-511.  Description 
of,  199  ;)  costume,  200  ;Nlistribution 
of  the^cWacters,  200,  221,  222;  ex- 
penses how  borne,  202,  205,  ,501, 
502 ;  chorus,  202.  Attendance  of 
women,  503.  Dionysiac  festivals, 
504,  508. 

Thebes,  I.  182,  390,  II.  205,  206.  De- 
scribed by  Dicaearchus,  I.  291,  292. 
A  leader  of  Greece,  310,  476,  II. 
1 72, 1 73.  Not  the  capital  of  Bceotia, 
16.  Alliance  of,  with  Athens,  236. 
Destroyed  by  Alexander,  I.  190,  H. 
206,  238.  Plundered  by  Roger  of 
Sicily,  354. 

Themistius,  I.  441. 

Themistocles,  H.  109,  114,439,449. 
At  Salamis,  117,  118.  Ostracism 
and  death  of,  119.  Inscription  over, 
120. 

Theocritus  and  the  Song  of  Solomon, 
I.  57.  Account  of,  250,  251.  Quot- 
ed, 326,  341,  425.     And  Virgil,  II. 

284,  288. 

Theodectes,  I.  204.     Quoted,  II.  43. 

Theodorus  Ptochoprodromus,   n. 

502.     Account   of,  and   verses   by, 

I.  258,  259. 

Theodorus  Studita,  quoted,  II.  50, 
353.  Account  of,  and  extracts  from 
his  poems,  381-383. 

Theognis,  I.  230.  Quoted,  284.  His 
poems  used  in  schools,  429. 

Theological  controversy,  Evils  of, 

II.  308,  309,  319. 
Theophrastus,  I.  282.     Quoted,  140, 

285,  506,  II.  11,  26.  A  teacher  of 
Menander,  I.  244,  245.  His  Char- 
acter of  the  Superstitious  Man,  455. 

Theotokios,  Nicephoros,  II.  414. 
Thermopylae,  II.  116,  494.     Ode  of 

Simonides  on,  117.     Mill   at,  527, 

528. 
T  h  es  e  i  u  m ,  The,  IL  139. 
The8pis,  I.  197,  198. 
The8salt,  Insurrection  in,  H.  493- 

495. 
Thiersch,  Prof.  F.  W.,  II.  469. 
Thirlwall,  Connop..  Bp.,  quoted,  I 

469. 


548 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Thbasvmedes,  I.  344. 
Thresholds,  Superstition  concern-' 

#ng,  I.  337. 
Thuctdides,  II.  14,  166,  388.    Cited, 

I.  71,  182,  331,  422,  439,  II.  22,  55, 
62,  70,  "3,  123,  130,  131,  153,  161- 
163,  404  Longer  quotations,  I. 
467,  468,  II.  132,  147-150.  His 
description  of  the  plague  .compared 
with  that  of  Hippocrates,  I.  409. 
The  "  Peloponnesian  War  "  studied 
by  Demosthenes,  H.  221. 

TlMACHIDAS,  I.  374. 
TlMABCHTJS,  II.   213. 

Tisias,  II.  125,  175,  181. 

Torture  of  witnesses,  II.   27,  165, 

166. 
Trade,  I.  394,  395, 
Travel   in    Greece,    Adventures   of, 

II.  523-529. 

Trebizond,  Empire  of,  II.  369  -  372. 

Trials,  I.  488-491,  II.  198-202. 

T  r  i  b  e  s  ,  II.  92,  93. 

Tricoupi,  Spiridon,  H.  431,  449,  471, 
520.  Quoted,  422  -  424.  His  broth- 
ers, 444.  His  funeral  oration  on 
Lord  Byron,  440,  441.  Secretary 
of  State,  454.  Minister  at  London, 
511. 

Trojan  war,  I.  76,  93-105,  204,  207, 
208,  219,  220,  252,  302,  303. 

Tbyphiodoeus,  I.  252. 

Tsaba,  Nico,  II.  405. 

Tubkey  in  Europe,  Organization  and 
government  of,  II.  394,  sqq. 

Turkish  language,  I.  23. 

Tubks,  Character  of  the,  II.  264. 
Their  fanaticism,  266-271.  Cap- 
ture of  Constantinople  by  the,  361  - 
369,  384.  Greece  under  the,  369, 
391-407. 

Tyrannies,  II.  53-55. 

Tybt^ds,  I.  140,  151,11.  86.  Account 
of,  and  poem  by,  159-162.  His 
poems  learned  by  heart  in  the  Spar- 
tan schools,  I.  421. 

Tzetzes,  Account  of,  I.  258. 

Tzinos,  II.  484. 

Umbrellas,  I.  388. 
United    States,    sympathy   for   the 
Greeks  in  the,  II.  249-255, 444, 450. 

Valmiki,  The  "Ramayana"  of,  ana- 
lyzed and  quoted,  I.  62-67,  69. 


Venice,  II.  391-393. 
Vico,  Battista,  I.  82. 
Vineyards,  I.  322,  323. 
Viegil,  I.  84,  130,  II.  284.     Quoted, 

I.  103,  II.  280.  His  Eclogues,  L 
251. 

Vitbuvius,  I.  336. 
Volgeb,  H.  F.  M.,  I.  175,  176. 
Vyasa,  The  "  Mahabharata  "  of,  quot. 
ed,  I.  67  -  69. 

Ward,  F.  De  Ward,  Translation  from 
the  "Ramayana"  by,  I.  65. 

Washington,  George,  Statue  of,  I, 
392. 

Websteb,  Daniel,  II.  227,  513.  Quot- 
ed,  I.  468. 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  his  want  of 
sympathy  with  Greece,  II.  255,  454 

Whbeleb,  or  Wheleb,  Sir  George,  I. 
317,  II.  142,  143.  Quoted,  410, 
411. 

Wills,  I.  471,  472. 

Wilson,  John,  Prof,  at  Edinburgh,  I. 
157.  His  translation  of  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  dog  Argos,  quoted,  118  - 
120. 

Wine,  I.  361, 362.  In  modern  Greece. 

II.  92.     See  also  Drinking. 
Wolf,  F.  A.,  I.  82  -  88. 
Women,  I.  363.     Satirized  by  He. 

siod,  134,  135.  In  the  "  Ecclesia- 
zousse"  of  Aristophanes,  234-240 
Dress,  364,  381,  383-385.  Educa- 
tion, 432.  Female  dancers  at  sym- 
posia, 367.  Aztec,  25.  Lesbian,  167 
173.  Spartan,  183,  399-401,11.  66, 
67.  Athenian,  I.  343  -  349,  432, 433 
II.  82.     Byzantine,  345,  346. 

Wobdswoeth,  William,  quoted,  I. 
158. 

W  o  r  s  h  i  p ,  I.  442  -  446. 

Wreaths,  I.  376,  388,  389. 

Writing,  I.  420.  Origin  of,  40- 
54.  In  Greece  at  the  time  of  Homer 
83,  85,  95.  Materials  for,  497, 
500. 

Wyman,  Dr.  Morrill,  quoted,  I.  408. 

Wyse,  Thomas,  II.  489,  497,  521 
His  character,  512-514. 

Wyse,  Miss,  II.  514. 

Xanthippe,  I.  356,  358,  433. 
Xenabchus,  Verses  of,  on   watering 
fish,  I.  378. 


GENERAL  LNDEX. 


549 


Xenocrates,  I.  140.  And  Eudamidas, 
184. 

Xenon,  quoted,  I.  290. 

Xjrnofhanes,  Philosophy  of,  I.  458. 
Geological  theories  of,  547. 

Xenophon,  I.  330,  339,  358,  II.  172. 
Cited,  I.  282,  320,  396,  429,  459, 
460,  II.  25,  58,  66.  His  estate  near 
Elis,  I.  328.  Sketch  of  a  house- 
keeper from  his  "  CEconomicus,"  349  - 
365.  His  "  Symposium,"  367,  369, 
371,  429.  His  admiration  of  Sparta, 
I.  477,  II.  63.  "  To  the  victors  be- 
long the  spoils,"  252. 

Xerxes,  H.  116. 

Young,  Dr.  Thomas,  I.  48. 
Ypselanti,  Prince  Alexander,  II.  421, 

422,  454. 
Ypselanti,  Prince  Demetrius,  II.  425, 


427.      Victorious    in    Bceotia, 
Founds  a  school,  517. 


454. 


Zachakias,  the  Capitanns,  II.  405. 

Zaines,  H.  482. 

Zalooostas,  II.  520. 

Zampelios,  II.  404,  520. 

Zend  alphabet,  I.  52,  53.  Literature 
58  -  60. 

Zeno,  II.  126. 

Zeus,  Statue  of,  by  Pheidias,  I.  453, 
454.  Temple  of  the  Olympian,  II. 
139. 

Zinkeisen  disputes  Fallmerayer's  Sla- 
vonic theory,  II.  313.     Quoted,  467 

Zonaras,  cited,  II.  288. 

Zoroaster,  I.  58,  60. 

Zosimus  on  the  Roman  conquest,  II 
281,  283.     His  stjie,  374. 

Ztgomala,  quoted,  I.  316. 


Jl&isu  IN  UrUEAL  ^± 

LOS  AKGEOOS.    •    ;,A 


the  *m. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 

NO  HHUNb  KENLWALS 


JANO 
arm  \  n-UKi 


1984 


I  fllillll 

3  1158  00146  5961 


i 


*IA 


